by Rita Herron
After all, he had a big advantage over his half brothers. He wasn’t personally attached to Jim McKinney or anyone else in town.
A BLOODCURDLING SCREAM pierced the air and forced thirteen-year-old Joey from her peaceful sleep.
Her mother.
She threw the covers aside, jumped up and ran to the door. But when she swung it open, a thick plume of smoke curled through the hallway. The scent of charred wood and fabric hit her. Oh God, the house was on fire!
Her father…no, daddy was at his house.
She had to get to her mother…but where was she?
And little Justin?
His room was downstairs next to her mother’s.
Joey ran through the fog of smoke, feeling for the banister to help guide her, coughing and choking as she made her way to the door of the nursery. Flames licked the walls in the kitchen and crawled along the floor in the den. The curtains erupted into a ball of fire and sparks flew from the ceiling. Wood crackled and popped, splintering as the table collapsed into flames.
Her mother was already awake, standing at the crib.
Joey’s eyes stung from the smoke. “We have to get out of here!”
Her mother spun around, eyes wild with terror, a crazed expression on her face. “Where’s my baby? What did you do with him? You were supposed to watch him for me!”
Joey’s heart pounded as she rushed forward to check the crib. Little Justin was not inside. Panic stabbed at her chest, robbing her of air. Where was her baby brother? Had he crawled out? Could he be somewhere in the house?
No, please no, the fire…it might have gotten him already. Or he might have inhaled too much smoke…
Her mother jerked her by her pajama shirt and shook her. “Where is he, Joey? Where’s my baby? What did you do with him?”
“Mom! I don’t know. Let me go.” She yanked her mother’s fingers away. “I’ll look for him.”
The scent of liquor permeated her mother’s breath. “Tell me what you did with him!”
Joey’s heart wrenched. “I put him to bed…he was here.” A sob racked her, and heat scalded her face. The fire was slipping toward the hall. They had to get out.
“Please, Mom, call the fire department. I’ll hunt for Justin!”
Her mother threw her hands in the air. “No! He’s gone—he’s not here! Someone took him, I know it!”
“Mother, call the fire department. We need help! And get Rosa!” Joey frantically searched the room and closet to see if Justin might have hidden inside. But no Justin.
Outside, a siren wailed, indicating that someone had phoned the firemen. Probably Rosa. Thank heavens. Now, if she could just find her little brother…
But she couldn’t search with her mother in hysterics, so she dragged her into the hallway. The kitchen was engulfed in flames. She couldn’t go that way. The front door was smoky, the flames licking at the wall casing and rippling a path of fire in front of it. Her heart racing, she glanced around the room for her baby brother, but didn’t see him. Maybe he was in the playroom upstairs.
Suddenly Rosa raced into the hallway, a stricken look on her face. “Hurry! Out the window in my room!”
“We can’t, we have to find Justin!” Joey screamed. “Take Mom outside. I’ll look for him!”
She shoved her mother toward Rosa, and her mother crumbled in Rosa’s arms. Joey lurched toward the steps to search upstairs, but firemen crashed through the front, spraying water. Chaos erupted. One of the firemen grabbed Rosa and her mother, and another one ran toward her.
“Come on, this house is going down!” he yelled. “You can’t go upstairs! No time to save your things!”
“My baby brother…we can’t find him!” Joey cried.
The fireman gently coaxed her toward the other man. “Get out of here now! We’ll find the boy!”
JOEY JERKED AWAKE and sat up, sweating and shaking. Tears rained down her face, the familiar guilt and terror gripping her full force.
The chaos. The firemen hacking away the window, breaking glass. Pushing her mother, Rosa, then her outside. Them collapsing on the lawn and watching in abject shock as the flames engulfed room after room and the house collapsed in front of them.
The firemen eventually appearing through the haze of smoke and debris, looking dazed, frustrated, sorrowful.
Their arms empty. They hadn’t found Justin.
Then her father had driven up, frantic and acting like a madman as he discovered the horror.
For the next forty-eight hours, she and her mother had moved on autopilot. Her mother had had to be sedated. Her father had stalked the police for a report.
Joey had blamed herself. And in every waking or sleeping moment she’d heard her little brother’s cry.
Then finally a small amount of relief. The reports proved that Justin had not been in the fire.
He had disappeared instead.
The theory was that he’d been kidnapped. The fire had been a ruse to distract them.
And then a new kind of terror had seized them. Fear that a monster had Justin. A sexual predator. A child killer. They’d imagined the worst. And then the horrible wait. Hoping and praying for a phone call. A ransom note.
But the note and call had never come.
Which had made them all suspect that something had gone wrong with the kidnapping.
And that Justin was dead after all.
The nightmare had magnified tenfold after that. The police had turned on the family. Questioned them all. Donna. Her father. Even Joey and Rosa.
And eventually they’d accused her father of planning the kidnapping/murder for the insurance money.
Joey swiped tears from her eyes and headed to the shower. Although it had been sixteen years since that day, she still smelled the smoke and sweat on her skin. Still felt the flames singeing her skin, heard her mother’s cries of terror and the accusations she’d hurled. And the image of her father breaking down had been etched in her mind.
Had his tears been real? Or had he planned the disappearance of her brother and his grief had been an act?
Had her brother not disappeared, would her parents ever have reconciled? Not with Lou Anne in the picture…
The very motive the police had attached to her mother years ago.
Donna had cloaked herself in bitterness after the divorce. Mentally Joey recognized the fact that the problems between her parents had driven the family apart long before the kidnapping/murder. But Justin’s disappearance had ended any chance they’d had of reclaiming a normal, civilized relationship.
She would never be free of the guilt.
Her stomach twisted into a knot. She was here to help find the answers.
But heaven help her, she was afraid of what the grand jury might find.
IT HADN’T OCCURRED TO COLE when he’d entered the café that the owner of the Main Street Diner was Joey’s mother. But with her flaming red hair, he’d recognized her instantly from old news photos. Dressed in an immaculate pantsuit with pearls around her neck, she greeted the customers while an Hispanic woman she called Rosa bustled around filling coffee mugs and serving breakfast.
Donna had given him the once-over when he’d first entered, as if she thought she should recognize him but didn’t. And she’d glanced at him with hooded eyes a dozen times since, trying to figure him out.
He hadn’t offered up his identity. Right now his anonymity might play in his favor.
“More coffee?” Rosa asked.
He nodded and thanked her for topping up his cup. “Those biscuits were the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Gracias, señor.” She strode away with a smile of pride, although when she joined Donna, they disappeared into the back room speaking in hushed voices.
He reread the notes on the kidnapping/murder investigation while he polished off his steak and eggs. Donna Hendricks’s drinking problem, coupled with her husband’s affairs, had led to a bitter divorce and custody battle. Both Joey, thirteen at the time, and Donna’s toddler son,
Justin, were caught in the war, but Leland had won custody. Then one night, when Joey and Justin were at Donna’s, a horrible fire had broken out. Rosa Ramirez had been the caretaker/nanny and housekeeper for Donna when Justin had been kidnapped.
Cole had been a teenager himself, but news of the fire and kidnapping/murder of the toddler had been all over TV.
In the police reports, he skimmed Donna’s statement. Then Leland’s. Donna had been despondent over her son’s disappearance and the possibility of his death. She’d nearly had a breakdown and had been treated for depression. Leland had appeared to be distraught, had vowed to find his son and pay for his return, no matter the cost. Both had vehemently denied allegations that they were involved in a kidnapping/murder scheme.
Joey’s interview had been the tale of a traumatized teenager. A kid who’d tried to save her drunken mother and find her baby brother in the midst of a blazing fire. A kid who probably still had nightmares of that night.
Then the speculations had started. Leland, the big oil baron, had been broke. He’d allegedly concocted a fake kidnapping/murder in order to collect on a life insurance policy. Donna had testified against her ex.
Leland had blamed Donna, and claimed that if she’d been sober, she might have heard someone break in and take their toddler.
They’d waited on a ransom note, one that hadn’t arrived. The police had grown suspicious, then finally they’d decided the fake kidnapping/murder had turned sour.
More details on the family dynamics had been disclosed. Lou Anne Wallace, Leland’s second wife, had been spoiled and supposedly married Leland for his money. She had her own kids, Anna and Sarah, and didn’t want custody of Joey or Justin. She especially hadn’t wanted a screaming two-year-old. And she’d never given up her affairs.
Cole grimaced. He imagined how miserable Joey must have felt, then clenched his jaw—he had to stop thinking about Joey Hendricks.
But her mother, Donna, was another story. She’d hated Lou Anne Wallace for marrying Leland. Donna had speculated that since Lou Anne hadn’t wanted the kids around, she had helped Leland with his scheme. Others suspected Leland murdered Lou Anne because she intended to go to the police about his illegal plan.
But no one knew the truth.
Then Sarah Wallace had come to town a few days ago, supposedly with new evidence, but she’d been murdered before revealing the details.
All roads led back to the kidnapping/murder of Justin Hendricks. If they found out the truth about that night, they’d find the answers to the Wallace women’s murders.
The door creaked open, and he froze with his coffee cup midway to his mouth as Joey walked in. She looked gorgeous and sexy as hell. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a clip at her nape, and she wore jeans that outlined those long legs and her tight butt, and a soft, feminine blouse that gaped above her cleavage. His mouth watered.
Last night she had admitted she hadn’t spoken to her parents in years. He wondered what kind of fireworks would fly this morning between her and Donna.
What exactly did Donna Hendricks know about her son’s disappearance and the murders of the Wallace women?
JOEY HAD BRACED herself to see her mother, but the sight of Donna holding a coffeepot, looking so domestic, nearly bowled her over.
She didn’t know this woman at all.
Her mother had been a sloppy drunk. Joey had rescued her from brawls, helped her stagger inside the house when she’d passed out on the lawn, cleaned up her messes and put her to bed.
She’d also dragged her away from the nasty fights with her father, Donna screaming that her father was a lying, cheating bastard, Leland shouting back that Donna was a drunken whore.
Her mother glanced up at the door, then saw her and visibly paled.
Joey’s throat constricted. What had she expected? For her mother to race toward her with open arms and a welcoming hug? For forgiveness for not taking better care of Justin? For the unconditional love she’d never offered?
The room grew quiet, tension vibrating through the diner that smelled of hot sausages, coffee and cinnamon rolls. Her stomach roiled. Steeling herself against the small-town gossip and whispers, she glanced across the room, searching. For what she didn’t know. A familiar face? An old friend?
Not that she had any here.
Then she spotted Cole McKinney. In a sea of strangers, he looked like the least vicious of the sharks.
Heaven help her, but she headed straight for his table. Her legs felt shaky, and she clutched the table edge, then slid into the chair across from him without waiting for an invitation. He cocked one dark brow, then offered her a sideways smile of understanding. Her heart fluttered wildly, and she felt like kissing him.
Ridiculous.
Then again, she’d struggled with that same feeling the night before. A temptation she had resisted.
For good reason, too. She had no time for a fling or romantic entanglement, especially with Cole McKinney.
Although the first part of the night she’d spent fantasizing about what might have happened if she had relented. One hot kiss would have led to another. Then tawdry, naked, wild sex.
“Good mornin’,” he said in a sexy drawl.
Was it? She wanted to growl. She’d heard him next door tossing and turning and pacing the floor the night before, as well.
She had to inform the Mathesons that the inn walls needed better insulation against the noise.
She nodded anyway, though, unable to speak. Her voice was lost somewhere in between fantasies of Cole, the tremors remaining from her nightmare this morning and the stunned look on her mother’s face.
Donna slowly walked toward her.
Joey swallowed, then noticed the files that Cole shoved into a folder. Files about the murders. Files about her missing brother. An old photo of her and her parents at the police station being questioned after Justin’s disappearance.
His solemn look told her he understood her discomfort.
He had no idea. She was behaving irrationally. Running to him as if he was her friend. As if he could save her from herself and her family when he’d come here to investigate every last one of them.
Cole McKinney had no real connections to the town or her family. If he found any dirty secrets hiding in the closet, he would have no qualms about exposing them.
No, he wasn’t her friend. Couldn’t help her.
No one could.
Chapter Four
Donna Hendricks’s heels clicked ominously in the sudden stillness of the room. Cole watched, scrutinizing every movement. The other patrons craned their necks and their conversations quieted. Apparently they were as interested in the unfolding drama between mother and daughter as he was.
Although Joey tried to camouflage her nervous reaction, her breath rattled in the quiet tension as Donna paused beside the table.
“Joey…when did you get to town?”
Joey turned a steady, unemotional gaze on her mother. “Last night.”
Donna placed a coffee mug on the table, filled it for her daughter and glanced at Cole in question as if to ask if they were together. “Where are you staying?”
“I reserved a room at the Matheson Inn.”
Donna wet her ruby-red lips with her tongue. “And who’s your friend here?”
A small smile curved Joey’s mouth as if she was taking some perverse pleasure in watching her mother squirm. Or maybe in being seen with him in a town that lived for the rumor mill.
“This is Cole McKinney,” Joey said. “Sergeant Cole McKinney, Texas Rangers.”
Donna’s mouth widened into a shocked O, then she narrowed her penciled eyebrows. “You’re Jim McKinney’s other son?”
Cole gritted his teeth at her condescending tone and gave a clipped nod. He would never call the man his father.
Donna pressed a shaky hand to her throat. “Then you’re here about the investigation into Sarah Wallace’s murder?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Donna angled her
head toward her daughter. “And what about you, Joey? Did you come to see me or your father?”
Joey cradled the coffee mug between her hands. “The governor sent me to oversee the case, and handle the media.”
Disappointment mingled with some other troubled emotion on Donna’s face. Pain? Guilt? Fear of being exposed? “I see. Have you talked to Leland yet?”
Joey’s look turned more strained. “No, but I’m sure I will. The Rangers will undoubtedly question him again. And I plan to sit in on all the interrogations.”
Donna studied her daughter for a full minute without a reply. Then as if disappointed in Joey’s comment, she gestured toward the menu. “Rosa will come and take your order.”
With a blistering look, she strode back to the breakfast counter, then disappeared behind the doors leading to the back. Rosa frowned and rushed toward Joey, although when she reached the table, she hesitated as if she wasn’t sure how Joey would accept her overture.
But Joey stood, sporting the first sincere smile he’d seen on her face. “Rosa…it’s nice to see you.”
Sadness tinged Rosa’s eyes as she hugged Joey.
“Let me get you some breakfast.” Rosa patted Joey’s shoulder like a doting mother. “How about one of Rosa’s famous Mexican omelets, the ones you loved when you were a little niña, sí?”
Joey shook her head. “No, thanks, Rosa. I…don’t have time.”
Cole removed some bills from his wallet and laid them on the table, uncomfortable with the private moment. Time to meet his brothers and get to work. “I have to go now. Breakfast was great, Rosa.”
She nodded and whispered, “Gracias, señor.” But her dark eyes also reflected a wariness that made him wonder if she was hiding something, as well.
He would find out sooner or later. A second later Joey caught up with him. “You’re on your way to the briefing?”
“Yes.”
