Chapter Seven #2
The man blinked, surprised, but he didn’t argue. “Yeah, sure. It’s just down the hall, suite 104.” He glanced over his shoulder behind him. “He’s still in there. Lights are on. I’m off shift now, but the doc knows how to lock up when he leaves. Remind him of it, though, will you?”
“We will,” Brody said as he and Remi stepped inside.
They walked down the hall with Remi close at his side. The soft thuds of their boots against the polished floor were the only sounds aside from the faint hum of the A/C. The door to Langley’s office was slightly ajar, and Brody pushed it open without knocking.
Dr. Langley was pacing behind a sleek glass reception desk, a phone pressed to his ear, his face flushed. His words were low, urgent, until he saw Brody and Remi standing in the doorway, that is.
Langley froze midstep, his eyes going wide for a split second before he fumbled to end the call.
The phone slipped from his grip, clattering onto the desk.
He didn’t bother picking it up. He also didn’t ask who they were, but then the doctor had met both of them several times during Miranda’s treatments.
“You need to leave,” Langley snapped. “I’ll call security.”
Brody stepped farther into the office and flashed his badge. “Go ahead. Call them. Then we can all take a nice trip down to San Antonio PD, where you can answer my questions in an interview room.”
Langley’s face paled, the bravado slipping as fast as it had come. His hand hovered over the phone for half a second before dropping to his side. His eyes darted from Brody to Remi, no doubt calculating his next move.
“What do you want?” he finally snapped out, the edge in his voice dulled by something else.
Fear.
Brody’s lips curled into something that wasn’t a smile. “Answers.”
He and Remi stepped inside, and when Brody closed the door, the soft click of it shutting made Langley flinch. The man was clearly wired. But why? That’s what Brody intended to find out.
Brody let the silence hang for a beat, just enough to make Langley sweat. Then he leveled his hard gaze on the doctor.
“Someone wants Tarrant Eddington dead,” Brody spelled out, his voice low and dangerous. “And they’re using someone very precious to me as a bargaining chip to get the job done.”
Langley’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze darting to the door like he was considering making a run for it. But there was nowhere to go that Brody wouldn’t chase him down.
Brody took a step closer. “Who’s behind it?”
Langley blinked, then gave a sharp, humorless laugh, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “A lot of people want Tarrant dead.”
But Brody saw it then. The shift in his posture, the slight drop in his shoulders. The tension bleeding out, just a little. Like Langley had been expecting something worse.
Brody narrowed his eyes. “You thought we were here to kill you?”
Langley didn’t deny it. His lips pressed into a thin line before he let out a shaky breath. “I thought Tarrant sent you.”
That pulled Brody up short. He shot a glance at Remi, who looked just as surprised as he was.
“Why would Tarrant want you dead?” Remi asked, stepping forward.
Langley opened his mouth like he was going to answer, but then his gaze darted away, and the words dried up. He shifted, clearing his throat, dodging the question like it had never been asked.
Instead, he latched on to Brody’s earlier words. “This very precious person you mentioned…Who is it?”
Brody didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Because that was a deflection, plain and simple. Langley wanted to shift the focus, maybe even play the concerned card to make himself seem innocent.
But Brody wasn’t buying it.
“You’re not here to ask questions,” Brody said, his voice dropping lower, all ice and steel. “You’re here to answer them.”
Langley shifted on his feet, the nervous energy rolling off him in waves. His fingers twitched toward his desk, hesitating for a split second before he snatched up his phone. He fumbled with it, scrolling quickly, then thrust it toward Brody like it was proof of something, like maybe his innocence.
“I got a text,” he blurted out.
Brody snatched the phone from his hand, his jaw tightening as he read the message on the screen.
Sheriff Brody Walker and Remi are hunting for Tarrant. When they find him, they’ll exchange him for the sheriff’s missing son. Give them all the help you can, and we’ll both get what we want—Tarrant’s head on a silver platter.
It was identical to the one sent to Christina and Eloise. Seeing it here on Langley’s phone twisted the knot in his chest even tighter. Brody handed the phone to Remi so she could read it for herself. Her groan let him know she was having a similar reaction.
“Who sent this text?” Brody asked the doctor.
Langley shook his head. “I don’t know. You can see that it came from an unknown number. No name, no details.”
Brody wanted more. A lot more. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “Why would someone send this to you?”
“I don’t know!” Langley’s voice pitched higher, his composure cracking. “I swear I don’t know where Tarrant is. I can’t help you because I don’t know anything.”
But Brody still wasn’t buying it. The fear in Langley’s eyes was real, sure, but fear didn’t mean innocence. It just meant he was scared.
“Who were you talking to when we came in?” Brody pressed. “Let me see your phone.”
The doctor hesitated but eventually showed Brody his screen. “I was talking to Eloise Davenport,” Langley admitted. “I thought she’d sent the text, but she insisted she hadn’t, that she got one, too.”
Langley’s face was flushed now, a sheen of sweat forming along his hairline. His hands twitched as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“I know she believes I had something to do with Grace’s stolen embryo,” Langley snapped, jerking his chin toward Remi. “But I didn’t.”
Brody stepped in, his chest tight, the tension vibrating in his jaw. “Then who did?”
Langley’s mouth opened, then closed again. “Tarrant. Or maybe Christina,” he muttered, but it didn’t even sound convincing to himself. He waved the idea off. “I don’t know.”
Brody’s patience snapped. He grabbed the edge of Langley’s desk, leaning in, his voice low and sharp enough to cut through steel. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
Langley swallowed hard. “Grace’s baby doesn’t have anything to do with what’s happening now…” He stopped. “Does it?”
Before Brody could even attempt an answer, the blare of the fire alarm screeched through the room. Red lights flashed against the sterile white walls, casting everything in pulsing shadows.
Then Brody smelled it.
Smoke.
Not the faint, lingering scent of something distant. This was close.
Brody’s instincts kicked in before his brain caught up. He took aim, scanning the office.
“Move!” he barked, pushing Langley toward the door while Remi was already at his side, her weapon drawn.
Because this wasn’t just a fire. Someone was trying to stop them. Maybe even kill them. If so, the fire hadn’t been set by the person who had his child. That person wanted him alive, wanted him and Remi to track down Tarrant.
So who was doing this?
Brody intended to find out.
He shoved Langley ahead of him, Remi covering their backs as they sprinted down the hall. The fire alarm kept blaring, a shrill, piercing wail that vibrated in his skull, and the stench of smoke began to fill his lungs.
He didn’t see an actual fire, but the smoke was certainly real enough. And the smell warned him that it might be mixed with some kind of chemical. Something deadly. Something that could maybe overpower them if they didn’t get the hell out of there.
They burst through the exit, slamming into the cool night air. The rush of oxygen hit hard, mixing with adrenaline that made Brody’s skin buzz.
Then, he heard a sound he sure as hell didn’t want to hear.
A gunshot.