“I’m not sure what I would do without you. Thank you, Brody.”

The way his name rolled off her tongue brought back all kinds of memories he didn’t need to be thinking about right now. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Yes, you have. An hour ago I was afraid of my own shadow.”

“And now?”

“I’m relieved you’re here. You look good, Brody.”

The warmth her words spread through his chest almost made him wonder if going to her place was a good idea. He was a grown man now. And he had desires to match.

“You do, too. Better than good.” Brody took her hand in his, ignoring how right it felt there, and walked her to her vehicle.

Texas Prey

Barb Han

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARB HAN lives in North Texas with her very own heroworthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at www.barbhan.com.

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To Allison Lyons for the opportunity to learn so much with every book. To Jill Marsal for unfailing wisdom and support.

To Brandon, Jacob and Tori for inspiration and kindness (I love you!). To John for finding true love.

This story is as much about friendship as it is about love.

To Emily Martinez, Lisa Watson, Caroline York, and Raymon and Amanda Bacchus for yours!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Rebecca Hughes held her chin up and kept alert as she thrust her shopping cart through the thick, oppressive North Texas heat. She blinked against the relentless sun, a light so intense her eyes hurt.

The van parked next to her car in the grocery store lot pricked her neck hairs. Blacked-out windows blocked her view of the driver’s side or anything else that might be lurking, waiting, ready. A warning bell wailed inside her head as she neared her sedan.

Today marked the fifteenth anniversary of that horrible day when both she and her younger brother were abducted, and it always put her on edge. The two had been isolated in separate sheds. When an opportunity had presented itself to run, Rebecca had escaped, thinking she could bring back help. Instead, she got lost in the woods and never saw her baby brother again.

Steering her cart toward the center of the aisle, she made sure no one could surprise her by jumping from between two cars. Tension squeezed her shoulder blades taut as memories assaulted her. Those thirty-six hours of torture before she escaped without her little brother, the horror and Shane’s disappearance would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Shuddering at the memory, she tightened her grip on the handle and pushed forward. The early Friday-morning crowd was out. Most people were just beginning to run errands at the same time her workday ended. Her overnight shift at the radio station kept her sane after years of being afraid to be home alone in the dark.

She and Shane had been twelve and seven respectively when she’d sneaked out to play that stupid game with her friends. They’d been told to stay inside while the annual Renaissance Festival was in town, in full swing. Parents were busy, distracted. Strangers in costumes were everywhere. People came from nearly every state, descending on Mason Ridge in RVs and trailers and filling camp sites. And Shane was supposed to be asleep when she’d slipped out her bedroom window to meet up with her friends, not following her.

But none of that mattered. She should’ve realized sooner that the little stinker was trailing behind, his favorite blanket in tow. Shane had been her responsibility. And she’d let him down in the worst possible way.

The unfairness of his disappearance and her survival still hit with the force of a physical blow. His screams still haunted her. An imprint left by the horrible man who’d been dubbed the Mason Ridge Abductor was the reason she still watched every stranger warily.

When no one else had disappeared and all leads had been exhausted, law enforcement had written the case off as a transient passing through town. Logic said the man was long gone. Point being, he couldn’t hurt her anymore. And yet, every time she got spooked he was the first person who popped into her thoughts. That monster had caused her to lose more than her sense of security. He’d shattered her world and taken away her ability to trust. Her parents had divorced and become overbearing; friends looked at her strangely, as if she’d become an outcast; and she’d eventually pushed away the one person she’d truly loved—Brody Fields.

The van’s brake lights created a bright red glow, snapping her focus to the present. Panic pressed heavy on her arms. Maybe she could circle around the next aisle and get back to the store before being seen.

There were a million wackos out there waiting to hurt unaware women, surprise being key to their attacks. Rebecca was fully present. She tightened her grip on the cart handle a third time, turned around and stalked toward her car. No one got to make her feel weak and afraid again.

Reaching inside her purse as she neared her vehicle, she gripped her Taser gun. Anyone trying to mess with her would get a big surprise and a few thousand volts of electricity. She wouldn’t go down without a fight. Not again. She was no longer a shy twelve-year-old who could be overpowered in the dark.

With every forward step, the tension in Rebecca’s body tightened. Her gaze was trained on the van.

She heard footsteps coming toward her from behind. Turning in time to catch a glimpse of a man rushing toward her, she spun around to face him. He was less than three feet away, moving closer. He wore a sweatshirt with the hood covering his hair and half of his face. Sunglasses hid his eyes. Before she could react, he slammed into her, knocking her off balance. She landed flat on the ground.

This time, she knew it was him—had to be him. She’d recognize that apple-tobacco smell anywhere. The scent had been burned into her senses fifteen years ago.

With the Taser already in hand, she struggled to untangle her purse strap from her arm. She shook free from his grasp, but not without upsetting the contents of her purse.

“You sick bastard. What did you do to my brother?” Aiming the blunt end of the Taser directly at his midsection, she fired.

The man fell to his knees, groaning, as she scrambled to her feet.

“What are you talking about, lady? You’re crazy,” he bit out through grunts and clenched teeth, convulsing on the ground.

Shaking off the fear gripping her, she snatched her handbag and ran to her car. She cursed, realizing some of the purse contents were on the ground. No way could she risk going back for them. Not with him there.

She hopped into the driver’s seat, then closed and locked the door. Her fingers trembled, causing her to drop the keys. Scooping them off the floorboard, she tried to force a sense of calm over her.

Fumbling to get the key in the ignition, her logical mind battled with reality. That had to be him, right?

This wasn’t like before when she’d mistaken one of the garbagemen for her abductor. Or the time she’d been certain he was posing as a cable guy. Anyone who’d come close and roughly matched her abductor’s description had given her nightmares.

The sheriff had been convinced that no one from Mason Ridge was capable of doing such a horrific act. He’d said it had to be the work of a trucker or someone else passing through because of the festival. The FBI hadn’t been so sure. They’d produced a list of potential suspects that had pitted neighbors and small-shop owners against one another. Personal vendettas had people coming forward.

As the investigation unfolded, there was no shortage of accused. And a town’s innocence had been lost forever.

Determined investigators had traced freight cars and truckers that had passed through Mason Ridge the night both her and Shane had been abducted. In the days following, they’d scoured known teen hangouts, drained a lake and even set off dynamite in the rock quarry. But they’d come up empty.

They’d been reaching, just as she was now.

Guilt hit at the thought she could be overreacting. She’d never actually seen the face of the man who’d abducted them all those years ago. Had she just nailed a stranger with her Taser?

A quick glance in the side mirror said it didn’t matter. This guy wasn’t there to help with her groceries. The hooded man on the ground inched toward her, a menacing curve to his exposed lips, his body twitching.

She turned the ignition again with a silent prayer.

Bingo.

The engine cranked and she shifted into Reverse. Her tires struggled to gain traction as she floored the pedal. Fear, doubt and anger flooded her.

She checked the rearview again as she pulled onto the street. When she could be certain he wasn’t following her, she’d pull over and call 911.

A few seconds later, she turned right onto the road and then made another at the red light, zipping into traffic at the busy intersection. A horn blared.

Adrenaline and fear caused her hands to shake and her stomach to squeeze. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. A couple more turns, mixing lefts and rights, and she pulled into a pharmacy parking lot. She reached for her purse, remembering that half the contents had spilled out in the parking lot. Had any of her personal information fallen out? On the concrete? Right next to him?

But it couldn’t be him, could it?

Why would he come back after all these years?

The festival? The radio show? Every year she mentioned her brother near the anniversary of his disappearance and got threatening letters at the station. The sheriff’s office followed up with the same result as previous years, no enthusiasm, no leads.

Rebecca couldn’t write it off so easily, had never been able to. She scoured social media for any signs of Shane. Last month alone, she must’ve sent a dozen messages to people who matched Shane’s description. Although she still hadn’t given up, her results weren’t any better than the sheriff’s. But her resolve was.

Maybe it was her own guilt that kept her searching. Or, a deep-seated need to give their mother closure.

Rebecca rummaged through her bag, desperate to locate her cell, and found nothing. It must’ve fallen out of her purse. The sheriff’s office was nearby. She’d have to drive to the station to file a complaint against her attacker. She cursed. No way could she get there in time for them to take her information and then catch him. He’d be long gone, most likely already was. She fisted her hand and thumped the steering wheel.

If her on-air mention of Shane hadn’t rattled any chains, the media might have. Every year before the festival the local paper ran some kind of article referencing Shane’s disappearance. This year being the fifteenth anniversary had brought out the wolves. A reporter had been waiting in the parking lot at work two weeks ago, trying to score an interview. He’d said he wanted a family member’s perspective. She’d refused and then gone to the sheriff to ask for protection. Again, they did nothing to stop the intrusion, saying no laws had been violated.

Even Charles Alcorn, the town’s wealthiest resident, had reached out to her. He’d helped with the search years ago and said he’d like to offer assistance again. What could he do that hadn’t already been done?

This time, the sheriff’s office couldn’t ignore her. They would have to do something. The attack was concrete and too close for comfort. The man had shown up out of nowhere. She’d been so focused on getting away that she hadn’t thought to see if he’d retreated to a car. A make and model, a license plate, would give the sheriff something to go on.

Her best chance at seeing him behind bars, overdue justice for her brother, had just slipped away. If that was him, a little voice inside her head reminded.

Did he have her cell phone? A cold chill ran down her back.

Wait a minute. Couldn’t the sheriff track him using GPS?

Anger balled inside her as she drove the couple of blocks to the sheriff’s office. What if they didn’t believe her?

She hadn’t physically been there in years, and yet she could still recall the look of pity on Sheriff Randall Brine’s face the last time she’d visited. His gaze had fixed on her for a couple seconds, contemplating her. Then, he’d said, “Have you thought about getting away for a little while? Maybe take a long vacation?”

“I’m fine,” she’d said, but they both knew she was lying.

“I know,” he’d said too quickly. “I was just thinking how nice it’d be to walk through the surf. Eat fresh seafood for a change.” Deep circles cradled his dark blue eyes and he looked wrung out. She’d written it off as guilt, thinking she was probably the last person he wanted to see. Was she a reminder of his biggest failure? Then again, it seemed no one wanted to see her around. “We’ve done everything we can. I wish I had better news. I’ll let you know if we get any new information.”

“But—”

His tired stare had pinned her before he picked up his folder and refocused on what he’d been reading before she’d interrupted him.

Rebecca had wanted to stomp her feet and make a scene to force him to listen to her. In her heart, she knew he was right. And she couldn’t depend on the sheriff to investigate every time something went bump in the night or a complete stranger reminded her of him.

Somehow, life had to go on.

Heaven knew her parents, overwrought with grief, had stopped talking to each other and to their friends. Instead of real conversation, there’d been organized searches, candlelight vigils and endless nights spent scouring fields.

When search teams thinned and then disappeared altogether, there’d been nothing left but despair. They’d divorced a year following Shane’s disappearance. Her dad had eventually remarried and had two more children, both boys. And her mother never forgave him for it. She’d limited visitation, saying she was afraid Rebecca would feel awkward.

After, both parents had focused too much attention on Rebecca, which had smothered her. There’d been two and a half years of endless counseling and medication until she’d finally stood up to them. No more, she’d said, wanting to be normal again, to feel ordinary. And even though she’d returned to a normal life after that, nothing was ever normal again.

Although the monster hadn’t returned, he’d left panic, loneliness and the very real sense that nothing would ever be okay again.

Since then, she’d had a hard time letting anyone get close to her, especially men. The one person who’d pushed past her walls in high school, Brody, had scared her more than her past. He’d been there that night. He’d stepped forward and said she was meeting him to give him back a shirt he had to have for camp so she wouldn’t have to betray her friends. Her mother had never forgiven him. He’d been the one person Rebecca could depend on, who hadn’t treated her differently, and he deserved so much more than she could give. Even as a teenager she’d known Brody deserved more.

Separating herself from him in high school had been the right thing to do, she reminded herself. Because every time she’d closed her eyes at night, fear that the monster would return consumed her. Every dark room she’d stood in front of had made her heart pound painfully against her chest. Every strange sound had caused her pulse to race.

And time hadn’t made it better.

She often wondered if things would have turned out differently if she’d broken the pact and told authorities the real reason they’d been out.

Probably not. She was just second-guessing herself again. None of the kids had been involved.

Once Shane had been discovered following her, they’d broken up the game and gone home. Nothing would’ve changed.

Rebecca refocused as she pulled into a parking spot at the sheriff’s office. By the time she walked up the steps to the glass doors, she’d regained some of her composure.

The deputy at the front desk acknowledged her with a nod. She didn’t recognize him and figured that was good. He might not know her, either.

“How can I help you?”

“I need to speak to the sheriff.”

“Sorry. He’s not in. I’m Deputy Adams.” The middle-aged man offered a handshake. “Can I help you?”

“I need to report an assault. I believe it could be connected to a case he worked a few years ago.” She introduced herself as she shook his hand.

The way his forehead bunched after he pulled her up in the database made her figure he was assessing her mental state. Her name must’ve been flagged. He asked a few routine-sounding questions, punched the information into the keyboard and then folded his hands and smiled. A sympathetic look crossed his features. “I’ll make sure the report is filed and on the sheriff’s desk as soon as he arrives.”

Deputy Adams might be well intentioned, but he wasn’t exactly helpful. His response was similar as she reported her missing phone.

Not ready to accept defeat, she thanked him, squared her shoulders and headed into the hot summer sun.

Local law enforcement was no use, and she’d known that on some level. They’d let the man slip through their fingers all those years ago and hadn’t found him since. What would be different now?

She thought about the fact that her little brother would be twenty-two years old now. That he’d be returning home from college this summer, probably fresh from an athletic scholarship. Even at seven, he’d been obsessed with sports. Maybe he still was. A part of her still refused to believe he was gone.

Rebecca let out a frustrated hiss. I’m so sorry, Shane.

What else could she do? She had to think. Wait a minute. What about her cell? If her attacker had picked it up, could she track him somehow? Her phone might be the key. She could go home and search the internet to find out how to locate it and possibly find him. And then do what? Confront him? Alone? Even in her desperate state she knew that would be a dangerous move.

Could she take Alcorn up on his offer to help?

And say what?

Would he believe her when the sheriff’s office wouldn’t?

She needed help. Someone she could trust.

Brody? He was back from the military.

Even though she hadn’t seen him in years, he might help.

If she closed her eyes, she could remember his face perfectly. His honest, clear blue eyes and sandy-blond hair with dark streaks on a far-too-serious-for-his-age face punctuated a strong, squared jaw. By fifteen, he was already six foot one. She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d look now that he was grown. The military had most likely filled out his muscles.

When she’d returned to school after a year of being homeschooled, kids she’d known all her life had diverted their gazes from her in the hallway when she walked past. Conversations turned to whispers. Teachers gave her extra time to complete assignments and spoke to her slowly, as if she couldn’t hear all of a sudden. Even back then, the pain pierced through the numbness and hurt. She’d felt shunned. As the years passed, she realized no one knew what to say and she appreciated them for trying. She got used to being an outsider. Her tight-knit group of friends had split up. She’d figured they were afraid to be connected with her or just plain afraid of her.

Not Brody. He’d stopped by her house every day after the incident even though her mother refused to allow him inside, especially after he’d stepped forward. It had been easier to take the blame than to admit why they’d really been out that night—to play Mission Quest. They’d had good reasons to lie, too. First of all, they weren’t supposed to be playing that online game, let alone sneaking out to meet up with strangers to capture their friends’ bases. And then there was the sheriff. He’d been looking for any excuse to bust their best friend Ryan’s older brother, Justin, the guy who’d let them into the game in the first place. If they didn’t cover for him, the sheriff would go after Justin like an angry pit bull. It would be his third strike and a one-way trip to a real jail. No more acting-out-against-an-abusive-father juvenile stuff. He’d be shipped off for good if their dad didn’t beat Justin to death first.

Justin had cleaned up his act. And he deserved a second chance. Besides, it was no surprise that he’d taken a wrong turn in the first place with a father as cruel as his. The real miracle had been that Ryan hadn’t followed in his older brother’s footsteps.

Even though it would have meant turning on their friends, Brody had visited Rebecca in the middle of the night to tell her that she didn’t have to keep the pact. Ryan would understand.

But Justin didn’t have anything to do with Shane’s disappearance. And there was no reason to screw up another family.

Shaking off the memories, Rebecca slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. She put the car in Reverse and tapped the gas a little too hard.

An object flew forward underneath her feet. She hit the brake, bent forward and picked it up. Her cell. It must’ve fallen out when she was rushing into her car earlier.

A mix of relief and exasperation flooded her as the thought of tracking her assailant via her phone disintegrated.

It was too early to give up hope of finding him this time.

She couldn’t do it alone. Brody had bought the old Wakefield Ranch. Rumor said he’d become a warrior overseas. Would he help? Could she reach out to him after all these years? How hard would it be to get his phone number and find out?

Rebecca pulled into another parking spot and thumbed through her contacts. Her finger hovered over Ryan’s number. They hadn’t spoken in years, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him. She sent a text message to him, unsure this was his number anymore. It didn’t matter. It was worth a try. He still owed her one for helping to protect his brother.

The text came thirty seconds later with Brody’s information.

Seeing it, needing to reach out to him, made this horror so much more real. And her heart pitched when she thought about facing him again.

* * *

BRODY FIELDS LEANED against his truck. The call from Rebecca Hughes had dredged up old feelings best left buried. He’d almost ended the call without finding out what she’d wanted. Except he couldn’t do that to her. It was Rebecca. The sound of her voice had stirred up all kinds of memories. Most of them were good.

He’d known her since they were kids, but they’d been teenagers when he’d fallen for her. There was so much more than her physical beauty that had drawn him in. She’d been the only female Brody had ever trusted and allowed inside his armor after his mother had betrayed the family, stolen money from the town and then disappeared.

The mental connection he’d shared with Rebecca had been beyond any closeness he’d experienced. Looking back, maybe it was the loner in him that could relate to her isolation.

When she’d pushed him away and said she’d never loved him, it had hurt worse than any physical blow. Soon after, she’d left for college, and then eventually moved to Chicago. He’d been the most surprised to learn that she’d moved back to Mason Ridge.

For a split second, he’d hoped she’d called for old times’ sake. Then, he remembered what day it was—the anniversary of Shane’s disappearance—and he knew better.

The conversation had been short. She’d told him what had happened and requested to meet face-to-face at The Dirty Bean Coffee Shop. He’d agreed, ending their exchange. The place was on his way home. Driving to the meeting point had taken ten minutes.

The pale blue sedan parking next to his truck had to be hers.

Knowing she was about to step out of her car and he was about to see her again hit him hard. How many times had he secretly wished he’d run into her in the past few months? Where’d that come from?

Hearing that her abductor had returned hadn’t done good things to Brody’s blood pressure. He wouldn’t refuse her plea for help. And a little piece of him hoped he’d figure out if her case and the memories were the reasons she’d rejected him all those years ago. He’d been a boy back then. Helpless. A lot’s changed.

He’d grown up. Survived his mother’s betrayal of his family and the town. Served his country. Gone on to become a leader of an elite-forces team. Spent time with a lot of interesting women. To be honest, not all of them were interesting, but they were smokin’ hot.

He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands under his armpits.

The first thing he noticed as Rebecca exited her vehicle was her jean-clad long legs and red boots. His body instantly reacted to seeing the woman she’d become. There were enough curves on her lean figure to make her look like a real woman. She still had the same chestnut-brown hair that fell well past her shoulders in waves. She’d be close enough for him to look into her light brown eyes soon. Were they still the color of honey?

Why did seeing Rebecca reduce him to being that heartsick seventeen-year-old brat again?

Brody ignored the squeeze in his chest. Fond memories aside, he didn’t do that particular brand of emotion anymore.

That she moved cautiously, surveying the area, reminded him why she was there. It wasn’t to talk about old feelings.

“It’s good to see you.” She took a tentative step closer to him.

Yep. Same beautiful eyes. Same diamond-shaped face. Brody hadn’t expected her voice to sound this grown-up. Or so damn sexy. He didn’t want to think about her in a sexual way. She’d been all sweetness and innocence to him at seventeen. And this wasn’t a date. He glanced around the parking lot to make sure no one had followed her.

“Wish the circumstances were better. I’m glad you called.” The conversation needed to stay on track. So, why did he feel another physical blow when he saw disappointment flash in her eyes? “Tell me why you think I can help.”

“He’s after me. Neither the sheriff nor the FBI caught him before. I’m scared. You’re the only one I can talk to who knows what really happened that night.” Her eyes flashed toward him nervously. “I’ve heard about the things you did overseas. I know you’ve done some security consulting on the side since you came back. I’d like to hire you to protect me while I sort all this out.”

“I don’t need your money. I’ll help.” He didn’t have to think long about his answer. Brody had experience tracking down the enemy, and this case had always eaten at him. Guilt?

“I’d still like to pay you something. In fact, I’d rather do it that way. I’m not a charity case.” She stared at him, all signs of vulnerability gone from her almond-shaped eyes.

He stared back. “Fine. We’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you.”

He hadn’t expected her to look so relieved. “You want to grab a cup of coffee while you fill me in?”

She nodded.

Brody followed Rebecca to the counter, where they placed their orders. She reached in her purse to pay for hers. He caught her arm. Big mistake. An electric volt shot through his hand, vibrated up his arm and warmed places that he didn’t realize were still iced over.

There’d be no use denying he felt a sizzle of attraction being near Rebecca again. It was more than a mild spark. She’d grown into a beautiful woman. But if he didn’t watch himself, she could put a knife through his chest with just a few words. And Brody had no intention of handing over that power again to anyone.

When their coffees were ready, she located a table in the corner. Brody followed, forcing his gaze away from her backside, ignoring how well the jeans fit her curves.

She took the opposite seat, her gaze diverting to someone behind him. Brody turned in time to see a fairly tall man sit a little too close for comfort. Then again, these coffee shops sure knew how to pack a hundred people into two-foot-square spaces. Brody had had to squeeze between the stacked tables to fit into the tight spot.

“Can you start right now?” Shoulders bunched, jaw set, she looked ready to jump if someone shouted an order over the hum of conversation. Tension practically radiated off her.

“Yes. I’ll need to arrange care for my horses. I can make a call to cover that base. If I’m going to be able to help, you’ll have to tell me everything.” His voice was gruffer than he expected, borderline harsh. Between his need to be her comfort and inappropriate sexual thoughts, being near her wasn’t exactly bringing out the best in him.

She glanced from side to side, told him what had happened that morning with more details this time, and then focused those honey browns on him. Tears welled in her eyes. “After all this time, he’s after me, Brody. Why? It doesn’t make any sense. Where’s he been all these years?”

“That’s a good question. One I intend to answer.”

“And what about my brother? Is there any chance he could still be alive?” Her voice hitched on the last word.

“We’ll find out.” Brody gripped his cup so he wouldn’t reach out to comfort her. “You’ve already been to the sheriff or you wouldn’t be calling me.”

She lowered her gaze. “Yes.”

“What did he say?” The way she kept one eye on the door had Brody thinking he needed to ask her to switch seats so he’d have a better view. As it was, he didn’t like his back facing the door.

“That I should be careful and to call if I see or hear anything suspicious.”

“Did you tell them that’s why you were there in the first place?” Frustration ate at him. He needed to control it in order to focus on the mission. Why would the man who’d abducted her and her brother all those years ago come back? To finish the job with her? She’d never been the intended target. When she’d witnessed a man grab her brother and run, she’d chased him into the woods. He had to know she hadn’t seen or remembered enough of him to help the law track him down or he’d already be in jail. “It’s been fifteen years. Why now? Where’s he been?”

“Wish I knew.” Her gaze ping-ponged from the front door to the exit. Fear pulsed from her. “Then again, the papers always dredge up the past.”

“That wouldn’t suddenly bring him out. They run stories every year.” Brody tapped his finger on the table. “I’ve thought about this a lot over the years.”

“Did we do the right thing back then? I mean, we were just kids protecting our friend by keeping that secret. What if that cost Shane his... What if someone saw something?”

“They would’ve come forward on their own if they had. Unless you think Justin was somehow involved?”

“No. It wasn’t him. This guy was too tall. Plus, I remember that smell. No one in Ryan’s house smelled like apple tobacco, least of all Justin.” The admission brought a frown to her lips.

“The sheriff wrote the case off as a transient passing through town before and found nothing. It’s time to change things up. We need to look at this through a new lens. Our guy could be connected to Mason Ridge in some way. This is where it all started and this is where it ends.” Brody had every intention of following through on that promise.

And if that meant breaking the pact and digging up the past, so be it.

Chapter Two

Rebecca’s shoulders slumped forward. “It’s no use. We’ve been over this a million times and we never get anywhere. I’ve scoured the internet for years trying to find Shane. The case is closed. It was most likely a random mugging this morning. Even the deputy thinks I’m crazy.”

“Except that we both know you’re not.” Brody resisted the urge to take her hand in his, noticing how small hers was in comparison, how much more delicate her skin looked.

“The sheriff told me years ago the trail had gone cold. I just didn’t want to accept the truth. They’re probably right. Shane’s...long gone.” Her almond-shaped eyes held so much pain.

“I know why your parents didn’t leave the area after they divorced. They never gave up hope of finding him, especially your mother,” Brody said, leaning forward. Everyone in town had held out the same hope Shane would be found. Hope that had fizzled and died as the weeks ticked by. “And neither did you.”

“Seemed like a good enough reason to stay in the beginning.”

“There’s no reason to give up now.”

“Do you know how slim the chances of solving a cold case are? I do.” When she looked up, he saw more than hurt in her eyes. He saw fear. He already noted that she’d positioned herself in the corner with her back against the wall, insuring she could see all the possible entry points. And didn’t that move take a page out of his own book?

“Except the case isn’t cold anymore. He struck again. We know he’s in the area.”

“Do you have any idea how that new deputy looked at me when I reported the crime and he pulled me up in the system? No one believes me.” Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to fall.

“I do.” Brody meant those two words.

“He could be anywhere by now.”

“And so could you. But you’re not. You’re here. And so is he.” Brody needed the conversation to switch tracks. Give her a chance to settle down. It was understandable that her emotions were on a roller coaster. Her need to find her brother battled with the fear she never would. “What about after college? You disappeared. I heard that you swore you’d never set foot in Mason Ridge again. What happened?”

“I did. I moved to Chicago and got a job at a radio station. I came home three years ago because of my mom’s health. She took a turn.”

“I didn’t know.” Again he suppressed the urge to reach across the table and comfort Rebecca, dismissing it as an old habit that didn’t want to die.

“I had no way to reach you while you were overseas. Doubt I could’ve found the right words, anyway.”

Brody understood the sentiment. How many times had he thought about looking her up on social media over the years but hadn’t? Dozens? Hundreds? “Is it her heart again?”

Rebecca nodded. The sadness in her eyes punctuated what had to be another difficult time for the Hughes family.

“What’d the doctor say?”

“That she isn’t doing well. They’re doing everything they can, but she’s refusing to try a new medication that will help her. Says she’s afraid of being allergic to it, which is just an excuse.” She shrugged. “I always stop by and see her after I get groceries on Fridays. I couldn’t go today, after what happened this morning. I called to let her know and prayed that she didn’t pick up on anything in my voice. She shouldn’t see me like this. It’ll just make her worry even more.”

“I’m truly sorry about your mom.” And so many more things he wasn’t quite ready to put into words. His own mother had freely walked away from his family after getting folks to hand over their hard-earned money under the guise of making an investment in Mason Ridge’s future. She had no idea what it was like to stick around.

“Thank you.” The earnestness in her expression ripped at his insides. “I can’t help but feel that trying to reopen Shane’s case is hopeless. The task force took all the facts into account fifteen years ago when they investigated his disappearance. All the leads from the case are freezing cold by now. My brother is still missing, probably dead. We’re right where we started, except now this jerk’s back as some twisted anniversary present to me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Brody reached across the table and thumbed them away, ignoring the sensations zinging through his hand from making contact with her skin and the warning bells sounding off inside his head.

She glanced at him and then cast her gaze intently on the table, drawing circles with her index finger. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t told him to sit down and wait for me by the willow tree so I could finish the mission he’d still be alive today.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. None of this is your fault.”

Her shoulders slumped forward. “What else can we do?”

Yeah, her stress indicator was the same. And Brody wanted to make it better.

“I’ll figure out a way to get a copy of the file so I can review the list of suspects again. I have a friend in Records and she owes me a favor. Fresh eyes can be a big help and might give us more clues.” Brody rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“With the festival going on this guy could blend in again, couldn’t he?”

“Yeah. We have to look at everything differently this time. He might be someone local who hides behind the festival. Maybe he knew that was the first place law enforcement would look.”

“You’re right. He could be a normal person, a banker or store clerk.” A spark lit behind her eyes, and under different circumstances it’d be sexy as hell.

“It’s likely. He could be married and involved in a church or youth group. He might be a bus driver or substitute teacher. It’s very well possible he could work with kids or in a job where he has access to families. We have to consider everyone. Those are great places to start.”

“I just focused on what the sheriff had said before, him being transient. None of these options occurred to me.” She shuddered.

Brody sipped his coffee. “It’s not a bad thing that you don’t think like a criminal.”

“If we need help, Charles Alcorn offered,” she said.

“A man in his position would be a good resource to have on our side.” Brody leaned forward. “So this is how it’s going to go. I follow you. Everywhere. You got a date, I’m right behind you.” The thought of sitting outside her house while another man was inside doing God knows what with her sat in his stomach like bad steak. And yet, they were both grown adults. It shouldn’t bother him. Wasn’t as if he’d been chaste, either.

“I’m not dating.”

Brody suppressed the flicker of happiness those words gave him. He had no right to care.

“And I don’t want to stop you from doing...whatever,” she added quickly.

Why did the way she said that knife him?

“Don’t worry about my personal life. I’m here to do a job. That’s all I care about right now.” Why was that more of a reminder for him than for her?

Working with her was going to be more difficult than he’d originally thought. And not because errant sexual thoughts crossed his mind every time he got close enough to smell her shampoo. It was citrus and flowery. Being with her brought up their painful past, but they’d shared a lot of good memories, too. Like their first kiss. They’d skipped the Friday afternoon pep rally junior year and headed down to the lake in the old Mustang he’d bought and fixed up using money from his after-school job at his dad’s garage.

As they sat on the hood of his car parked in front of Mason Ridge Lake, she’d leaned her head on his shoulder. And then decimated his defenses when she looked up at him with those honey browns. His heart had squeezed in the same way it did earlier today when he saw her again. She still had that same citrus and flowery scent and it made his pulse race just as it had before. He remembered the warmth of her body against his side, her soft lips as they slightly parted.

Brody had leaned in slowly and her lips gently brushed against his; her tongue flickered across his mouth.

Afterward, they’d just sat there, silent, before he’d pulled her into a hug.

The kiss had lasted only a few seconds but was burned into his memory. How many times had he thought about those sweet lips when he was an ocean away with his face in the dirt? How many times since? Too many.

Brody glanced at his watch. “I’ll connect with my friend and see what I can find out about that file.”

“Okay.” She leaned forward, rubbing her eyes, suppressing a yawn. “What else?”

“You used to look for Shane everywhere. My guess is that you haven’t stopped. Am I right?”

“Yes. I scan social media on my days off.”

“Any hits?”

She shrugged. “Not real ones. I’ve been hit on plenty, though.”

“Men can be such jerks.”

“Women are far worse. You’d be shocked at the messages I get from someone calling herself Adriana.” Rebecca rolled her eyes.

“I have a few like those, too,” he said in an attempt to lighten the tension.

“I’m sure you’ve been exposed to worse, having been in a war zone.”

“I’ve seen my fair share of everything, here and abroad,” he said. “You ever follow up on any of those real messages?”

“A handful. Why?” She paused and her eyes grew wide. “You don’t think one of them could be stalking me?”

“Not sure. I was thinking it might be a good place to start.”

She brought her hand up and squeezed the bottom of her neck on the left side, subconsciously trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. Her face muscles bunched. Signs her stress levels were climbing.

“Has anything else out of the ordinary happened to you recently? He had to know your schedule to know where you’d be this morning. I don’t believe the grocery store was a random encounter.”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve been hearing noises in the evenings before I leave for work. I thought it was the neighbor’s cat at first. Now, I’m wondering if it could’ve been him.”

“We’ll check the perimeter of your house. The recent rain might have left us with evidence.”

There’d been one of those open-up-the-sky-and-let-the-rain-pour-down-in-buckets storms North Texas was known for the other night. She scooted her chair back and slung her purse strap over her shoulder.

“There was also that unusually persistent reporter last week. I think his name is Peter Sheffield. I got off a few minutes early, so I was alone in the parking lot. He nearly gave me a heart attack waiting at my car after my shift at the radio station. Do you think he could be involved?”

“From here on out, I want you to suspect every sound, every person.” Brody’s gaze narrowed.

“So, what you’re saying is...act like I always do.”

He didn’t like the sound of those words. “This guy might’ve been trying to scare you into an interview.”

“That’s crazy. People actually do that?”

Brody tapped his knuckles on the table. “I remember him now. He used to hang out with Justin, didn’t he? Then he dropped out of Texas State U to join the military.”

“That’s right. He did. Are you saying you think he might be involved?”

“We need to look at everyone who was out that night playing the game. And especially Justin’s friends.”

Rebecca nearly choked on her sip of coffee. “I hadn’t thought about it being someone so young. The apple tobacco. I just figured it had to be someone older.”

“Maybe it is. But we’re not taking anything for granted this time.” He took the last swig of coffee, tilted the cup and glanced at the bottom, then fixed his gaze on her. “You ready to do this?”

She nodded, stood, walked past him and headed straight to the door.

“I’ll follow you home in my truck.” He threw away their empty cups, checking to make sure no one in the place seemed interested in either one of them. No one did.

Outside, the midday sun shone bright. Rebecca hesitated before spinning around to face him. He expected to be confronted with the same fear in her eyes, but she popped up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his lips. “I’m not sure what I would do without you. Thank you, Brody.”

The way his name rolled off her tongue brought back all kinds of memories he didn’t need to be thinking about right now. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Yes, you have. An hour ago I was afraid of my own shadow.”

“And now?”

“I’m relieved you’re here. You look good, Brody.”

The warmth her words spread through his chest almost made him wonder if going to her place was a good idea. He was a grown man, now. And he had desires to match.

“You do, too. Better than good.” Brody took her hand in his, ignoring how right it felt, and walked her to her vehicle.

Once she was safely inside, he hopped in his truck and followed Rebecca home. Her house, a two-bedroom bungalow, was fifteen minutes from the coffee shop. He parked behind her car as he surveyed the quiet residential street. Since the attack had happened hours ago, the monster could be anywhere. No red flags, yet.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, once they’d both exited their vehicles, examining the front windows for any signs of forced entry.

“I rented it three years ago when I moved back.” Her hand shook as she tried to unlock the door.

“I can do that for you.” He looped his arm around her waist as she turned to face him. Touching Rebecca came a little too naturally, so he pulled back rather than allow himself to get sucked into the comfort.

“Guess I’m still a little shaken up.” She smiled weakly as she handed over the key ring. Her fingers brushed against his flat palm, causing a sizzle to spread through his hand.

“You’re doing great, honey.” He closed his fist around the key, then stepped beside her before unlocking and opening the door. A high-pitched note held steady until she hit numbers on the keypad, four beeps followed by silence. The state-of-the-art security system was no surprise, given her past.

This place was all Rebecca. Soft, earthy feminine colors. Furniture he could see himself comfortable on— especially with her nearby. Her place was exactly as he’d imagined it would be, which had him thinking about the strong mental connection they’d shared. Still shared?

That was a long time ago. People change. He’d changed.

Walking around the living room, he ran his hand underneath lamp shades, tables and other flat surfaces.

The coffee-colored cabinets in the kitchen were his taste, too. He checked them and then swept his hand along the white marble countertops, stopping at the sink. There was a nice-sized window looking onto the backyard. The best thing about this part of North Texas was having trees. Her yard was a decent size, so someone could easily hide and watch her while she worked in the kitchen. Especially if she stood at the sink. His first thought was to install blinds.

Brody started making a mental to-do list as he moved through the house. He’d run to the nearest big-box store and pick up supplies later. He could make the changes himself.

She had a decent alarm.

“Do you live here by yourself?”

“Yeah.” She bit back a yawn. Dark circles cradled her brown-as-honey eyes.

“You should try to rest. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wake you if I get any new information.”

“I’m okay.” She moved to the kitchen. “Besides, my nerves are too fried to sleep. I can’t force down another cup of coffee. Want some herbal tea?”

“No, thanks.” He still needed to check the master bedroom and he couldn’t stall any longer. He shuffled his boots down the hall. The thought of being in the exact place she brought other men didn’t sit well. There’d been no framed pictures of her with another guy so far. Brody didn’t want to admit how happy that made him.

Hoping his luck would continue, he breached her bedroom. He’d open the nightstand drawer last, in case there were condoms. It wasn’t his business what she did anymore, or with whom, but he couldn’t help feeling territorial about his first love. The thought of her in bed with another man would rank right up there as one of his worst mental pictures. And he really didn’t want to see any leftover men’s clothing or shavers in the bathroom, either. Which was exactly the reason he’d put off checking her master bedroom.

As he walked the perimeter of the room, nothing stood out.

“Everything okay in here?” The sound of her voice coming from the doorway coupled with the visual of her bed didn’t do good things to him.

“Doesn’t look like you slept here last night.”

“I work deep nights at the radio station.”

“Right. Of course.” Why did that ease his tense shoulders?

She stopped, almost as if she was hesitating to cross the threshold. Did she sense the heat filling the short distance between them? All he had to do was reach out and he could pull her close to him, protect her.

Brody mentally shook off the thought and moved on. “What time did you go to work last night?”

“I go in at ten o’clock. The show airs from midnight to six. We always wrap afterward.”

“Any new employees in the last couple of months?”

“No. Not much ever really changes in this town.” Her smile warmed his heart, threatening to put another crack in his carefully constructed armor. He took a couple of steps toward the door.

“The body needs sleep in order to perform. Why don’t you close your eyes and rest while I check out the grounds?”

She looked up at him with big, fearful brown eyes. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“No. You’re stuck with me. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere without you until we figure this whole thing out.” He shouldn’t notice how good he felt when her face muscles relaxed into a smile. “I need to make some calls, though, and you might as well get some shut-eye.”

“What if he...” She didn’t finish, but Brody knew exactly what she was going to say.

“I doubt he’ll show up while I’m here. Think about it. This creep snatched little kids before and then surprised you this morning, which sounds like someone who’s afraid of confrontation. I doubt he has the gall to try something with me around.”

She nodded and her shoulders lowered.

“You have an extra key?”

“Sure.” She disappeared down the hall, returning a moment later with a spare held out on the flat of her palm. She relayed her alarm code.

Taking it caused his finger to brush her creamy skin again. The frisson of heat produced by contact pulsed straight from his finger, to his arm and through his chest. In the back of his mind, he was still thinking about the feel of her lips against his at the coffee shop, the taste of coffee that lingered.

Physical contact was a bad idea. If he couldn’t find and keep his objectivity in this case, the moral thing to do would be to help her find someone who could.

“You need me, just shout,” he said, resigned. He needed to get in touch with the sheriff’s office, too. See if Brine would offer information about the case.

“Okay.” She paused. “Any chance you could stay inside until I get out of the shower?”

“I’ll be in the living room,” he said, hearing the huskiness in his own voice. The last thing he needed was the naked image of her in his thoughts.

He almost laughed out loud. They’d been together in high school. Not in the biblical sense, but they’d been a couple. Twelfth grade was a long time ago. Feelings changed. Their current attraction was most likely residual. She was beautiful. No doubt about that. And she was exactly the kind of woman he’d ask out if they’d met today and could forget about the past. But all the extra chemistry he felt had to be left over from before. That was the only reasonable explanation. Because Brody hadn’t felt like this toward any woman since her. And he’d been in several relationships over the years. Yet, something had always stopped him from taking the next step. Marriage was a huge commitment, he’d reasoned. There’d been no need to rush into a big decision like that.

“I saw a laptop in the living room. Mind if I use it?” he asked.

“Not at all. Go right ahead,” she said.

“What’s the password?”

“Capital N-V-M-B-R. Then the number fifteen.”

Brody turned without giving away his reaction. November fifteenth was his birthday.

* * *

REBECCA CHECKED THE CLOCK. She’d showered, hoping the warm water would relax her strung-too-tight muscles, before the tossing-and-turning routine began. She flipped onto her right side and placed a clean sock over her eyes to block out the light.

Rolling back to her left, she repositioned the sock.

No luck.

The sun was firmly set in the eastern sky. She’d closed her black-out curtains. This was normally the time she’d be asleep, but the way her mind was spinning no way could she rest. All she could think about was the possibility of Shane being alive. Even she knew the chances were slim. And yet, odds didn’t matter in her heart, where she still held hope.

She’d need more than a piece of material to block out her thoughts. Time was the enemy. A killer was after her. Thoughts of being locked in that shed brought the terrifying sensation of her abduction back. And everything that had happened after...

When she’d returned, the town had been in chaos. Volunteers were assigned to a search team. Hundreds of people fanned out over the fields surrounding Mason Ridge Lake. Others opened car trunks and abandoned structures. People carried guns and set up neighborhood patrols. Even the wealthiest man, Mr. Alcorn, had thrown considerable resources into the effort.

Later, searchers joined hands as they walked in a line through the fields near Mason High School.

Two FBI agents had taken up residence in the Hughes’s front room. A half dozen crop dusters and military planes had circled the sky, searching. The 4-H club had sent riders out on horseback.

Local law enforcement had encouraged people to keep their porch lights on at night and be ready to report any activity that might be suspicious. The Texas State Police had set up a half dozen roadblocks. Railroad cars, motel rooms and the bus station were searched—as was every house in the city.

Shane’s comb had been shipped off to the FBI lab near Washington for analysis. As had his favorite toys—trucks, LEGO and his handheld game system.

Rebecca had suddenly found herself under twenty-four-hour watch. Dr. Walsh, her pediatrician, had checked her for signs of sexual assault.

When a week of fruitless searching had passed, authorities had alerted residents to look out for scavengers, believing that Shane’s body might have been tossed into a field or nearby farm. They’d been told to keep an eye out for large gatherings of buzzards and crows and were advised not to touch a body if one was found.

It wasn’t long after that the FBI ran out of steam. Reporters had been a different story. They’d followed her parents for months, relentless.

Normally, Rebecca forced those thoughts out of her mind, unable to think about them. Having Brody in the next room brought way more comfort than it should. She told herself no one would care about her more than him, and that’s why his presence gave her such a sense of well-being. Nothing about her current situation should cause her to let her guard down. The last time she’d gone against her better judgment, she’d ended up in a shed out in the woods. And her brother...

She couldn’t even go there. Couldn’t sleep, either. She tossed the covers and pushed off the mattress. She threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, pulled her still-damp hair into a ponytail and met Brody in the living room.

He glanced up from the laptop, a look of determination creasing his forehead, and offered a quick smile. “Can’t sleep?”

“No. This time of year is always...challenging. So, dealing with all this other stuff has my system out of whack.” She threw her arms up, exasperated.

Brody studied her. His clear blue eyes seemed to see right through her. “I’ve said it before, but we will figure this out. I already reached out to Ryan and he’s following up with the others, trying to see if we can figure out a good time for everyone to meet.” He patted a spot on the sofa right next to him. He looked good. Damn good. He’d filled out his six-foot-two frame nicely. He was all muscle and strength and athletic grace. His blond hair was cut tight with curls at the collar. He wore a simple shirt and jeans.

Rebecca took a seat next to him, ignoring how her stomach free-fell the minute she got close. “Have you heard anything from your contact?”

“Yes. She emailed as much as she could. The suspect list is long.” He had a pen and notepad out, scribbling notes as he flipped through a file on-screen. “I’d also like to take a look at your social-media account.”

“Sure.” She waited for him to click on the icon before giving him the password. “Nice pen.”

He glanced at it and nodded. “A present from the old man.”

“How is your father?”

“He’s getting older, but he’d never admit it.” Brody half smiled, still maintaining focus. “I’ve been thinking of moving him onto the ranch. Hate the thought of him being alone. But he’s stubborn.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” She laughed. “I doubt he’ll give up his own place without a fight. He’s a good man. I always liked him.”

Brody nodded, but his expression turned serious again as he studied the screen.

“Find anything useful?”

“Hold on.” He clicked through her chat messages, studying the accompanying faces. He stopped at one, considered it for a long moment and then clicked on the image, which opened the guy’s home page. “There’s something about this one. Randy Harper.”

“If Shane was still...alive, I’d imagine him to look just like this. I mean, he and I look related, don’t we?” Her cell, on the coffee table, buzzed. She picked it up and checked the screen. It was her father. She hit Ignore and tucked it half under her leg.

Brody had seen who the caller was. She steadied herself for the inevitable questions about why she was refusing to take her father’s calls. The cell vibrated under her leg, indicating he’d left a voice mail. She didn’t want to get into it with Brody right now, didn’t want to think about her father’s new life while she still hunted down what had truly happened to his old one.

She glanced up, catching Brody’s stare. He didn’t immediately speak. Then he said, “The others resemble you, too, but there’s something special about Randy.”

“I had the same feeling.”

“How long ago did you find him?” he asked.

“Six months or so.”

“He doesn’t live far.”

“Nope. But he didn’t respond to my message. I’ve been doubling my efforts with him and a few others lately.”

“The city of Brighton is located two counties east of here. I used to know a girl who lived out there while we were in high school...” His voice trailed off at the end, as if he suddenly realized who he was talking to.

Sure, a twinge of jealousy nipped at her. More than that, if she was being totally honest. But she had no right to own the feeling. Shoving it aside, she smiled. It was weak, at best, but Brody took the peace offering, returning the gesture.

He scrolled down the page. “He hasn’t posted anything in months. He either hasn’t been online or he’s abandoned his page altogether.”

“We can rule him out as a phony, then. He can’t be a crackpot trying to rattle me if he doesn’t even realize I’ve tried to contact him. Plus, he’s too old to be Shane. Look at the birthdate.”

“You’re probably right, but if it was him, then he might not really know when he was born. I’ve read about cases of abducted kids being told lies about when and where they were born to make it more difficult for them to dig around in the past.”

“Wouldn’t he need an actual birth certificate to enroll in school? My stepmother had to produce that, shot records, and a current electric bill for my half brothers,” Rebecca said. She didn’t want to feel the spark of hope that Shane might actually still be alive. She wanted her brother to be somewhere safe—had dreamed it, hoped it and prayed it. But she didn’t want to create false expectations based on a social-media page.

“A birth certificate can be made. For a price. The rest would fall into place from there. Maybe we can find some of Randy’s friends. Dig around a little in his background. Pay him a visit.” Brody scribbled down a few names. “I don’t want to invite them into your social network, so we’ll have to reach out another way.”

He scanned through photo after photo on the home pages of the people connected to Randy. A good fifteen minutes had passed when Brody made a satisfied grunt. “Look here. At this pic. And this one. Then, this one. See what’s in the background?” He displayed the pictures in a larger window to view one at a time. Three friends had tagged Randy at a local restaurant called Mervin’s Eats.

“When was the last picture posted?” Rebecca asked as another flicker of excitement fizzed through her.

“Three months ago.” Brody glanced at the clock on the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. “Too early to go and check out the place now. Looks like we just figured out where we’re eating tonight, though.” He pulled up another screen, his fingers working the keyboard, and pulled up the address to Mervin’s Eats in Bayville, Texas. He copied down the address in his notebook.

This was the first promising lead she’d had in fifteen years. It was hard to contain the enthusiasm swelling inside her. “For so many years, everyone’s said he’s gone. What if they were wrong?”

“I have plans to track down every possibility. That means we’re going to run into dead ends.” His honest blue eyes had darkened with concern.

“Believe me, I know better than anyone about disappointment.” He was trying not to get her hopes up in case he had to dash them, and she appreciated him for it. “I’ve handled it before and I will again. It just feels nice to have a little hope for a change.”

His nod and smile said he understood. “We need to keep working other trails, too. If we can figure out why or how our guy was connected to Mason Ridge before, maybe we can figure out what he’s doing here now.”

“I can’t stand waiting around. I’d like to go out looking for him.”

“Okay. Give me a chance to study these notes so I have a better idea where to start searching. See if I can find some connection either to this town or to your family.”

She shivered as an icy chill ran down her back. That thought was unnerving. Could someone close to them have orchestrated Shane’s disappearance? She hadn’t considered it before.

Brody’s gaze trained on her. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Not yet. Stomach’s been churning all morning. My brain, too. I was thinking about the fact the places where he took my brother and me weren’t secure. It couldn’t have taken him more than a half hour to get us both there, so they were close by. He had to know the area, which, now that I think about it, would rule out a random person passing through town. I told the sheriff all this before, but there’s another thing I can’t stop thinking about. He didn’t want me. He wanted my brother. I got in the way when I followed them and the guy was distressed about it.”

“Makes me think it might’ve been his first time to kidnap someone,” Brody said quietly.

“Not the work of someone used to slipping into a strange town to snatch a kid.”

“What else did the sheriff say?” Brody asked, his interest piqued.

“That he probably improvised, saw a couple of abandoned buildings and hid us there. But why? Wouldn’t he want to get out of town as quickly as possible?”

“And the response to that?”

“Nothing to me. I did hear someone from the FBI tell my parents later that the guy most likely hadn’t pre-planned the kidnapping.”

If she could go back and trade places with her brother, she wouldn’t hesitate. How many times had she wished she’d been the one to disappear, to die?

There was a slim chance that Shane was still alive, she reminded herself. The odds weren’t good, Rebecca knew that, but she also knew better than to focus her energy on the negative.

That bastard had made a mistake once. She was living proof. All she needed was another misstep. With Brody’s eyes on this case, maybe he would figure it out and bring the monster to justice. Rebecca would do whatever it took to help. “If only I remembered more...”

Brody’s arm around her shoulder, his fingers lifting her chin, stemmed the emotion threatening to unravel her.

“I hate that you’re going through this again. I’m sorry it happened to you in the first place. Believe me, I’ll do everything I can to find that jerk.”

A mix of emotion played inside her. Fear. Anxiety. Sadness.

Hope?

“Let’s get something to eat and we’ll hit Woodrain Park. He’s probably smart enough to pick a new place, but we have to cover it, anyway.” His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She leaned over until their foreheads touched.

“I won’t let him hurt you again.” He said other sweet words—words that made her want to yield to his strength.

And yet, getting too close to Brody wasn’t a good idea. No one could quiet the monster’s voice in the back of her head for long. He would return. He always returned. And she’d slip into her armor, blocking out the world.

“I’ll fix something to eat.” She rose and walked toward the kitchen, stopping in front of the sink.

Brody followed. The gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans was a stark reminder of the dangers they faced. He rummaged around the fridge, tossing up an apple. “Not much here to work with.”

“I left my groceries scattered across the lot.”

He nodded and then searched the pantry, pulling out almond butter, bread and cinnamon grahams. “These’ll work.”

She nodded.

He moved to the sink with the supplies, glanced up and froze. His gaze fixed on something out the window.

Cursing, he palmed his weapon and adjusted his position, stepping away from the window. “Get down. Now.”

Rebecca dropped to her knees as panic roared through her, making her limbs feel heavy. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“Someone’s out there watching.”

Brody crawled past her with the agility and speed of a lion zeroed in on his prey. “Lock the door behind me. Wait right here until I get back.”

“No,” she pleaded, trying to stop her body from shaking. She opened the drawer and gripped a knife.

“Take me with you. I don’t want to be here alone.”

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