The Secret (Butler Ranch Book 3)

by Heather Slade

What was wrong with him? He heard Brodie’s words, understood the plan, but he couldn’t think.

  “No one saw her?” he asked.

  “No one. Alex and Peyton had everyone looking for her. There were only two places she could’ve been, Naughton.”

  Maddox turned right out of Los Cab and took Adelaida Trail all the way to the highway.

  “Anything yet?” Maddox asked Brodie.

  “Not yet,” he answered. “Wait! I just got something from Gabe,” he shouted. “He said they caught sight of a black Suburban, no plates, on Hidden Valley!”

  Maddox slammed on the brakes and spun the SUV around. “Where is he now?”

  “Near Vineyard Road.”

  “They’re headed to Tablas Creek!” said Naughton, snapping back to reality.

  “You’re right, Naught. Brodie, call Charlie,” Maddox barked. “Have him take Tablas Road.”

  If the SUV was headed to Tablas Creek Winery, this would mean, between the three of them, they’d box the SUV in.

  “Where’s Joaquin?” Maddox asked.

  “Hang on,” said Brodie.

  “Who else is out looking for her?” Naughton asked while they waited.

  “Everyone, Naughton.”

  When they pulled into Tablas Creek, Naughton saw Charlie and Edgar were already there. Mad’s SUV hadn’t come to a complete stop before Naughton jumped out.

  Charlie walked toward him. “Gabe got here first. The sheriff’s on his way.”

  “Where is she?”

  “In there.” Gabe pointed to a storage building next to the winery. “He’s got a gun, Naught.”

  Naughton charged forward, but Maddox stopped him with a tight grip. “What the fuck?” he yelled. “Let me go.”

  “Listen to me, Naughton! Did you hear Gabe? Whoever has Bradley has a gun.”

  Naughton heard his brother’s words, but he couldn’t process them. Who had her? How did they know there was a gun? Why was everyone standing around doing nothing? He stood, unable to move, staring into his brother’s eyes, willing him to give him answers.

  “We think it’s Calder who’s got her,” said Charlie, motioning to where Trey Deveux stood, pacing frantically, talking on his cell phone.

  When Naughton made a move toward Trey, Maddox grabbed hold of his arm again. “Wait,” he said, only loud enough for Naughton to hear.

  The sheriff pulled up behind Mad’s truck. “The SWAT team is on their way,” he told them. “They know there’s a hostage situation.”

  “I know nothing about this,” Naughton heard Deveux say to the sheriff. “This is all on Rory. Things got out of hand. I tried to stop him.”

  “From doing what?” Naughton seethed. “Setting our vineyard on fire? Or kidnapping Bradley?”

  Trey shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

  Maddox stepped forward. “What way was it supposed to go, Deveux?”

  “It was all about money. That’s it. Like what went down at Los Cab. The plan was to uncover vulnerabilities, and then leverage them to get owners to sell. That’s it.”

  “Bullshit,” Naughton spat.

  Maddox put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “They’re here,” said the sheriff, pointing toward the tactical vehicles that were pulling up in the driveway. “Sergeant Akins is the unit commander. I need to brief him on what we know so far.” The sheriff motioned for both Gabe and Trey to follow him.

  “Naughton,” Maddox said. “Come on. Let them do their job.” Naughton followed his brothers back to the barricade the team had just put into place.

  “The hostage negotiator is trying to reach him now,” the sheriff explained when he came back to where they stood.

  “What does he want?” Maddox asked.

  “That’s unclear at the moment.”

  Naughton paced, clenching and unclenching his fists. If something didn’t happen soon, he’d explode, and when he did, he’d charge into the building where Calder held Bradley and kill the sonuvabitch with his bare hands.

  Bradley’s head was pounding, and her mouth felt as though she hadn’t had hydration in weeks. The last thing she remembered was coming out of the ladies’ room and finding Jason Calder waiting just outside the door. He must’ve hit her over the head with something because she didn’t remember anything after that.

  From where she lay on the concrete floor, her hands and feet bound, she could see Jason pacing as he yelled into his phone.

  “She recognized me. What the fuck was I supposed to do?” she heard him yell. “Get your ass over here and help me straighten this mess out.”

  She wouldn’t have realized who he was if someone at the meeting hadn’t mentioned that Trey’s sister had married Rory Calder’s brother. She’d met them both briefly and had completely forgotten their connection.

  “None of us would be in this mess if you hadn’t fucked up in the first place. Dad sent me here to fix things, so the way I see it, this is your problem.”

  Bradley heard a door open near the back of the winery and watched as Jason spun around, leveling the gun in the direction of the noise she’d heard.

  “Drop it or I’ll shoot you, and I don’t miss,” she heard a deep voice say. There was an eerie calmness to the man’s words that chilled her to her core. She couldn’t get a good look at whoever was speaking but heard a quick succession of cracks before she saw Jason Calder fall to the ground.

  “No!” she tried to scream, but no sound came out.

  Seconds later, she heard doors burst open again and could see people in tactical attire run into the winery from the opposite direction.

  Two men ran straight to her while two others checked Calder. “He’s dead!” one of them said while others ran through different parts of the building.

  “Are you Bradley?” the one nearest to her asked.

  She nodded, still unable to find her voice.

  “I’m Ty, and I’m gonna check you out while my buddy here gets you out of these ropes. While we do that, can you tell me what happened in here?”

  “He shot him,” she whispered.

  “Who?”

  “One guy came in through the back and shot him, right before the rest of you came in from the other direction.”

  “Can you describe the man who came in through the back?”

  “I couldn’t see much, but he was dressed like you are.”

  She overheard the tactical team yell something about another gunman, and more footfalls running through the winery.

  A voice came through the radio the man kneeling next to her had attached to his gear. “All clear?”

  “Interior clear,” he responded.

  “Bradley, can you tell me what month it is?” he asked while he checked the pulse in her neck.

  “September.”

  “Good. This will be bright for just a couple of seconds,” he said before he shined something in each of her eyes. “Can you move your right index finger for me?”

  “Good,” he said, and then asked her the same thing about her left hand.

  “My head hurts.” Her voice was getting stronger.

  “I bet. Looks like you’ve got a pretty good bump on your noggin. Do you want to try to sit up?”

  She did, with their help, and then the same man asked her a few more questions about whether she knew where she was and if there was anywhere else on her body she was hurt. Finally, they asked her if she could stand and helped her to her feet.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” one of the men said.

  She closed her eyes as they led her past where she’d last seen Jason’s body. She didn’t know whether it had been moved, but if it hadn’t, she didn’t want to see it.

  Once they were outside, Bradley could see Naughton a few feet away, behind a barricade. When her eyes met his, he jumped the fencing and ran over to her.

  “I need you to stay back,” someone said, trying to intercept him.

  “He’s alright,” she heard the sheriff say. “But, Naughton, le
t them do what they need to do.”

  She reached out for Naughton, who pushed his way through and put his arms around her.

  “I was so scared,” he whispered.

  “I was too,” she answered.

  He pulled back and looked in her eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Just my head hurts right now.”

  He brushed the hair away from her face. “Jesus. I’m so sorry, angel.”

  Naughton turned to the sheriff. “How much more tonight, Bill? Can’t she answer your questions in the morning?”

  The sheriff stepped away to talk to someone who was also in tactical gear. “What more do you need from her tonight?” Bradley heard him say.

  “My guys have scoured the area and have no leads on the gunman.”

  The sheriff walked back over to her, and the other man followed. “Bradley, what can you tell us about the person who shot Calder?”

  “As I said before, I couldn’t see much.” She looked at the other man standing behind the sheriff. “He was dressed like you are.”

  “Your dad is here,” Naughton told her.

  “Will they let him over here?”

  “Bill?” Naughton said to the sheriff, who looked at the sergeant.

  “I think we’re done for tonight,” he said. “But we’d like to see you tomorrow and get an official statement. We can come to you.”

  “Let’s get you home.” Naughton picked her up from the floor with a swoosh of force so powerful, she lost her breath. Once they were on the other side of the barricade, he set her on her feet.

  Her dad put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said.

  “Thanks, Dad. I’m sorry I put you all through this scare,” she said, looking at Uncle Charlie and Naughton’s brothers.

  “I want to get her home,” Naughton said to her father. “You can come to the house.”

  Her father cupped her cheek with his palm. “Do you want me to come tonight or in the morning?” he asked.

  Before she could answer, Naughton did for her. “Let’s give Bradley a few hours to rest. We’ll see everyone in the morning. Okay?”

  Her father nodded, and Naughton led her to an SUV. “Mad?” she heard him ask.

  “We’ll get a ride with Charlie or Gabe,” Maddox said, handing him the keys, and kissing Bradley’s cheek. “Get some rest, Saint John. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Thanks, Maddox,” she answered, and then looked at her father. “I love you, Daddy.”

  His eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  Bradley didn’t speak on the way home, and Naughton was relieved she didn’t. Until he had her safe inside his cottage, he couldn’t hear or even think about what had happened tonight. As it was, he had to grip the steering wheel with all his might to keep his hands from shaking. He had never been so terrified in his life.

  He looked over at her, now and then, as he drove the back roads to Butler Ranch. Her head rested against the seat, and her eyes were closed. When he saw she had her left hand outstretched, he wove his fingers with hers. She opened her eyes then and squeezed his hand.

  He parked as close to the front door of the cottage as he could get, and then came around and to her side, lifting Bradley in his arms. He carried her inside but didn’t stop. He kept going, climbing the stairs, until he could gently set her on his bed. She lay back, and he stretched out next to her, touching her body with his in every place possible.

  His fingertips caressed her cheek as they laid side-by-side, staring into one another’s eyes.

  “You’re safe now,” he murmured when she shuddered.

  “I was so scared,” she said so quietly he could barely hear her.

  “Me, too.”

  She leaned forward, and he met her lips with his, kissing her gently, reverently, with as much restraint-filled love as he had in him. Part of him wanted to devour her, but she needed him to nurture and cherish her now, so that’s what he did.

  “I love you so much,” he murmured.

  “I love you, Naughton.”

  She closed her eyes. “Do you…”

  “What?”

  “Want to know?”

  “Only if you want to tell me.”

  “Not yet.”

  Naughton kissed both her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and her forehead before his lips settled back on hers.

  “I want you,” she pleaded.

  Naughton slowly unbuttoned her blouse, trailing kisses as he did. When her blouse hung open, he ran his lips down her tummy until he came to the waistband of her jeans. He unfastened them and gently tugged them until they came off. “Let me,” he said when she went to unfasten her bra. She rolled far enough that he could reach behind her and pull it away from her body.

  He stood then, and took off his clothes, watching as her eyes surveyed his nakedness. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

  She nodded and held her hand out to him. “Please, Naughton.”

  24

  The bed was empty when Bradley opened her eyes. It was light out, and she could hear Naughton talking to people downstairs.

  She threw the covers aside, found where she and Naughton had left her clothes, and dressed. She felt sluggish, and if Naughton had still been in bed with her, she could easily have gone back to sleep.

  Before she reached the bottom step, she heard Naughton say, “What do you mean you don’t know who the other gunman was?”

  “It wasn’t one of our team,” she heard someone say as she rounded the corner to find Naughton, her father, the sheriff, and another man—who looked vaguely familiar—sitting in the living room.

  When he saw her, Naughton stood and met her near the doorway.

  “Did we wake you?” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “You weren’t there…”

  “I’m sorry, angel.”

  Her father stood and put his arms around her when Naughton stepped aside.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Good morning,” said the sheriff, standing and motioning for her to take a seat. “Do you remember Sergeant Akins?”

  “That’s right. I remember you from last night.”

  The sergeant nodded. “Sorry to bother you this early, ma’am, but we do have a few more questions.”

  “You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready,” said her father.

  Naughton nodded. “Your father’s right. If you’re not ready, they can come back when you are.”

  “It’s okay, but I don’t remember much. I went to the ladies’ room…” She put her hands to her pounding temples.

  “I’ll get you a glass of water,” said her father, walking out of the room and toward the kitchen.

  “What happened after you went to the ladies’ room?” the sergeant probed.

  “Give her a minute,” Naughton snapped before she had a chance to answer.

  Bradley put her hand on Naughton’s arm. “I’m okay,” she murmured. “I heard you say something about the other gunman?”

  “Can you tell me what you remember?”

  “I came out of the restroom, and Jason was standing there—“

  “Jason?” Naughton asked.

  “Let her finish,” said Bradley’s dad, handing her the glass of water.

  Naughton looked at her, and then at the two men questioning her.

  “The person who was shot wasn’t Rory, Naughton. It was his older brother,” explained the sheriff. “But like her father said, let her finish.”

  Naughton stood and grasped the back of his neck.

  Bradley reached her hand out to him.

  “I’m sorry.” He sat next to her and held her hand in his.

  “Before I knew what was happening, he hit me over the head with something. That’s all I remember until I woke up in the building at Tablas Creek.”

  Bradley took a drink of water. “I hadn’t been conscious long when I heard Jason, on his phon
e with Rory—”

  “Where the hell is he?”

  “We’ll get back to that.” The sheriff leveled his eyes at Naughton. “Let the sergeant finish his questioning, Naughton, or I’ll ask you to leave the room.”

  “Go on, ma’am,” said the sergeant.

  “Jason just kept yelling, and that’s when someone burst through the back door.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  “I couldn’t see much, but he was dressed like the rest of you were last night.”

  “Anything else?”

  “His voice. I remember it was deep and kind of gruff.”

  “Do you remember what he said?”

  “Every word. First, he told Jason to drop the gun, and then he said, ‘I’ll shoot you, and I don’t miss.’ That was it.”

  Bradley felt Naughton tense up.

  “What are you thinking, Naught?” asked the sheriff.

  Naughton shook his head. “Nothin’.”

  Bradley couldn’t say what exactly she was feeling, but something told her Naughton was lying.

  The sergeant handed Bradley his card. “If you think of anything else, give me a call.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” said the sheriff.

  “Can I see her now?” Bradley heard her aunt say when the sheriff opened the front door.

  “Come in, Jean,” he said. “You too, Charlie.”

  Bradley stood when she saw her aunt and uncle come inside. Aunt Jean ran over to her, and Bradley sank into her embrace. She ran her hand over Bradley’s hair as she cuddled her, humming something that reminded Bradley of her mother.

  “Have a seat,” Naughton said, motioning to where he and Bradley had been sitting.

  Aunt Jean led Bradley over to the couch and held her for a long while after they sat, her nestled between her aunt and uncle.

  “I wanted to come last night,” said Aunt Jean. “But your father and Charlie talked me out of it.”

  “She needed rest,” said Naughton.

  “She needed you,” said Jean, smiling at him.

  A few minutes later, the sheriff came back inside. “Bradley, Naughton, I’ll give you an update on what else we know, and then I’ll leave you to your families,” he said, motioning toward the other room.

  “It’s okay, you can tell us all,” said Bradley.