Chapter Nine
Brody gripped the wheel, pushing the cruiser as fast as he dared over the dark roads leading home. His pulse pounded, his mind racing ahead, playing out every worst-case scenario.
Beside him, Remi was on the phone with his mother. “Sandra, we’re almost there,” she said, voice steady but laced with the same nerves that Brody was feeling. “Are you still with the baby?”
“Yes,” Sandra answered immediately. “The house is locked up, and the deputies are here.”
Brody barely registered the words. It didn’t matter how secure the place was. He needed to see his son with his own eyes.
“When we get there,” Remi went on, “maybe you could help Brody think of a name for the baby.”
He knew what Remi was doing. She was trying to get his mom’s mind on something else other than the terror she had to be feeling. And Brody was so thankful for that. He couldn’t manage it, but Remi had.
“Yes,” his mother said, sounding slightly less stressed than she had earlier. “So many choices. I remember Miranda and Brody keeping a list. Joe was at the top for a boy and Sophie for a girl. But we’ll need two boy names,” she said.
“Why don’t you think of some, and you can tell us when we’re back,” Remi said. “But you’d better think fast,” she added as Brody took the final turn to the house, the tires squealing on the asphalt, “because we’ll be there in under a minute.”
Under a minute was right. Brody didn’t let up on the accelerator until the house was in sight. He also spotted the cruiser in the driveway, red and blue lights flashing. Two of his deputies, Reese David and Marcus Calloway, stood guard near the porch, their hands resting by their holsters.
Brody barely put the cruiser in Park before he was out, moving fast. Remi was right beside him.
“Anything?” he barked at Reese as he passed.
“Perimeter’s clear,” Reese reported. “We’ve done two sweeps. No signs of forced entry.”
Brody didn’t slow down. He hit the front door, unlocked it and strode inside, his heartbeat hammering in his ears.
Sandra met them in the hallway, her face tense but composed. “He’s fine,” she said before Brody could even ask. “Sleeping.”
Still, he had to see for himself.
He pushed into the nursery, his breath catching for just a second at the sight of his son. Small and peaceful, curled in his crib. He was oblivious to the chaos outside.
Relief slammed into Brody so hard it made his hands shake. Hell. The sight of his son, safe, nearly brought him to his knees.
“Everything’s okay, boss,” he heard Holt say from the hall.
Brody managed to give him a nod and mutter a thanks, but that was all he could get out.
He stood there, staring at his son, his body locked tight with tension.
The relief that he was safe should have been enough.
But it wasn’t. His mind wouldn’t stop spinning, wouldn’t stop seeing all the ways this could have gone differently.
A light touch on his arm pulled him back.
Remi.
She didn’t say anything at first, just squeezed his forearm, grounding him in the moment. He looked at her, and whatever she saw in his face must have set off alarm bells.
“We need a minute,” she said, turning toward Sandra and Holt. “Brody and I need to debrief about what happened tonight.”
Sandra hesitated, concern flickering in her eyes, but she nodded. “Of course.”
Remi glanced at the baby, then back at Sandra. “And you might want to keep thinking of names for both boys.”
It was more of that distraction. Something to give Sandra a focus beyond Brody’s unraveling state.
Then Remi led him down the hall, all the way to the end until they reached the laundry room. She pushed the door open, flicked on the light and pulled him inside.
The moment the door shut, the tightness in Brody’s chest cracked wide open.
And Remi was the only person to see it.
Brody braced his hands against the washer, his head dropping forward as the weight of everything pressed down on him. His breath came fast, too shallow. His chest felt tight, like a vise had locked around it.
“Hell,” he muttered, his voice raw. “Hell. Hell.”
His fingers curled into fists. He forced himself to breathe, but it wasn’t working.
“I could have lost him,” he ground out, the words slicing through the tension in the small space.
Remi stepped closer, her voice steady and calm. “But you didn’t.”
Brody squeezed his eyes shut. That didn’t erase the fact that this time the threat had been a taunt, but the next one might be real.
“We’re going to keep him safe, Brody. No matter what. And we’re going to find your other son.”
Something inside him cracked at that, at the certainty in her voice, the way she said we, like she was just as invested in this as he was. Before he could think better of it, before he could remind himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t, he pulled her into his arms.
The move surprised them both.
She sucked in a breath, stiffening for a split second before she melted against him, her arms sliding around his back.
The warmth steadied him. The scent of her. Something uniquely Remi. It grounded him in a way nothing else could right now.
He felt her heartbeat against his chest, a solid rhythm, syncing with his. But then, just as fast, something shifted. The heat between them. Hell. It wasn’t just comfort.
It was more.
Brody realized it the second his grip tightened on her waist, the second her fingers curled just a little harder into the fabric of his shirt. The attraction he thought he’d buried—thought he’d locked away years ago—flared to life.
Damn it.
He stepped back abruptly, his breath uneven, but for a different reason than concern for his son’s safety. This time, the reaction was all for Remi. She looked up at him, her expression unreadable, but he knew she’d felt it, too.
They stood there in silence, the air thick with something unspoken.
Brody swallowed hard, dragging a hand through his hair. “We should—”
“Yeah,” Remi said before he could think of what to add to that.
Neither of them moved.
Because they both knew whatever had just happened between them wasn’t over. Not even close. Still, this was wrong. Not just the heat itself but the timing. It was way off.
Brody forced a breath into his lungs, trying to steady himself, trying to shove everything he’d just felt back into a place where it couldn’t distract him.
Remi, thankfully, wasn’t about to let him dwell on it.
“Why did someone want you to believe your son might be in danger?” she asked. “Who would want us rushing back here?”
The questions cut through the rest of the fog in his head, yanking his focus back where it needed to be. On the case. On the threat. On the person who was pulling the strings.
Brody exhaled, nodded. “Tarrant. He could have made the call himself and set up the anonymous tip so we’d leave the scene. Give himself a better chance at escaping.”
“Or,” Remi countered, “Langley did this.”
Brody frowned, considering it. “So we wouldn’t be able to keep questioning him.”
Remi made a sound of agreement. “Think about it. Right before the fire alarm went off, he asked if Grace’s baby had anything to do with what’s happening now. That wasn’t a random question, Brody. He knows more than he’s letting on.”
Brody clenched his jaw. He knew Langley had been holding back. He’d felt it in every dodged answer, every nervous glance.
“I saw something else,” Remi went on. “When we were on the roof looking for Tarrant, I spotted Langley. He was on the phone.”
Hell. Langley could have blocked his number and made that call to Dispatch. Brody’s gut was telling him to get back out there. To find Langley. To talk to Christina again and interview Eloise.
He reached into his pocket for his keys. “I’m not letting Langley slip away. If he made that call, we need—”
“Brody, it’s ten o’clock at night,” Remi interrupted, her voice steady but firm.
“And the San Antonio cops are likely speaking to Langley right now. We need to regroup. Go over everything we’ve learned so far.
There’s a chance we’re missing something.
Something that could help us pinpoint our next move instead of running around blind. ”
Brody started to shake his head, but she cut him off with one last push.
“And your mother might need you right now,” Remi added. “She’s been through a lot in the past few hours.”
That hit him harder than he expected.
Sandra had been steady, but he knew her.
Knew how much she internalized stress. Hell, she’d already lost a daughter-in-law and almost lost him more times in the line of duty than he wanted to count.
And now, she was caring for a grandchild she hadn’t even known existed until today, all while someone was trying to rip his family apart.
Brody let out a slow breath, dragging a hand over his face.
“Let’s focus on what we can do tonight,” Remi suggested. “I want to pull up traffic-camera feed around the medical building. I want to see if we can get eyes on Tarrant’s escape route. If we’re lucky, we might even catch what kind of vehicle he got into.”
Brody finally nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Fine. But I want to get started now.”
A flicker of amusement crossed Remi’s face. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Brody didn’t waste another second. They had work to do.
And tomorrow, they were going to find the SOB who had his son.