Chapter Thirteen
Brody’s boots thudded against the tile floor as he paced across the interview room at San Antonio PD. The walls seemed to be closing in on him, and he couldn’t tamp down the worst-case scenarios that were repeating in his head.
He and Remi had been here for over an hour now, first giving their statements about finding the dead nurse and now waiting for someone up the SAPD chain of command to release them. If that didn’t happen soon, then Brody would be breaking the law and charging out of there.
He hadn’t found his son. And he was still no closer to knowing where he was. He didn’t know who had him, and that gnawing fear had taken root deep within his chest. Hell, within his bones.
Every minute spent here, waiting for the next lead, felt like wasted time. Every second was another moment his son could be in danger. It was the one thing he couldn’t stand, that helplessness of not knowing where the hell his boy was.
“Maybe we should have held back on what we told the cops,” Brody said, clearly second-guessing, well, everything.
Remi sighed. “They needed to have all the details,” she assured him. And in this case, all the details meant literally all. They hadn’t held back on anything when they’d given their statements.
“And the cops know we’re not involved in murdering that nurse,” Remi added.
True. They weren’t suspected of doing anything criminal, but SAPD might also be reluctant to let them just walk out if they knew Brody might indeed kill Tarrant in exchange for his son.
And he would do that.
Brody knew that now. If it came down to Tarrant and his baby, then Tarrant would die.
He stopped in front of the window and stared out, not really seeing anything. He was just…thinking. Thinking about the doctor who had been involved in this nightmare. Where was the doctor who had delivered the twins? Why hadn’t they been able to find him?
Brody felt the edges of his control slipping away. A soft touch on his arm brought him back to the present. Remi was there, standing in front of him, her hand on the knotted muscles in his arm.
“Brody,” she murmured, “you need to take a slow, easy breath.”
He shook his head, his frustration evident. “I’m not doing anything slow or easy, Remi. Not until I find him.”
Remi sighed and moved toward him, her arms open. In one fluid motion, she pulled him into her embrace.
At first, he stood stiff in her arms, resisting, but then the weight of everything—the guilt, the frustration, the fear—broke through. He didn’t resist. He let her hold him, her warmth seeping through him. He didn’t have to say a word. She didn’t need him to. She just held him, and that was enough.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Brody allowed himself to let go, if only for a moment.
And that was clearly a mistake.
Brody didn’t think. He just leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers. Not a full-blown kiss. But it had a full-blown impact, all right. The heat slammed through him. Too much, too fast, and it brought a firestorm of emotions along with it.
Man, he shouldn’t be feeling this.
But he was. The need was building, and it didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t want this.
Brody went back in. For a real kiss this time. And he took her mouth as if he had a right to do just that. He didn’t. That didn’t stop him, though, and she didn’t push him away. He deepened the kiss, poured every bit of himself into it.
Held nothing back.
And he had to hold back. He couldn’t give in to this. It had nothing to do with the past. Facing life and death with Remi had soothed that over some. Some. But this kind of kiss, this kind of need was a distraction. It took down too many walls. Too fast. Leaving him feeling frustrated. Confused.
Vulnerable.
Brody forced himself to stop, then made himself move away from her. He opened his mouth to apologize, to explain himself, but just as the words began to form, there was a knock at the door. Brody’s muscles tensed as it swung open.
A tall woman with dark hair stepped in, and she hesitated for a moment, no doubt picking up on the vibe that was in the room. Thankfully, she didn’t say something like, Am I interrupting anything? No, she just came in, her gaze pinned to Remi.
Brody immediately saw the familiarity between Remi and this stranger. He also heard Remi take what he thought was a breath of relief. Maybe relief over the kiss ending? Or she could be glad there’d been no questions about why both of them were flushed and breathing hard.
The woman stepped forward and gave Remi a quick hug. “Remi,” she said, as she eased back from the embrace. “It’s been too long.”
“Violet,” Remi replied, her smile genuine. “It has.” She lifted her hand to Brody. “This is Sheriff Brody Walker. Brody, this is San Antonio PD homicide detective Violet Hollister. We worked on some cases together, and the clinic where we found the body is in her jurisdiction.”
Brody shook her hand briefly, giving her a nod. “Good to meet you.”
Remi turned slightly, her voice a little tighter now. “Brody and I are desperate for news. We’re hoping you might have something for us.”
“Oh, I have plenty for you,” Violet assured her. “Not sure if it’s the answers you want, but here it is. The dead nurse you found at the clinic, her name was Lila Montgomery.”
Brody repeated the name to see if it rang any bells. It didn’t.
“She was a nurse midwife,” Violet continued, “but she lost her credentials three years ago after a drug arrest. Pills. She had a habit of stealing from the hospitals she worked at.”
Brody’s stomach twisted. A woman like that had been around his sons.
“The medical examiner confirmed that she’s been dead for at least a week,” Violet went on. “That lines up with what your surrogate, Allie Harper, told us about delivering the babies eight days ago. It looks like she really did kill Montgomery in self-defense.”
That eased some of the tension inside him. “And Allie?” Brody asked. “Is she in the clear?”
Violet nodded. “We’ve taken her statement. As of right now, there will be no charges filed against her. Considering the circumstances, it’s pretty damn clear she was fighting for her life.”
Good. Allie had already been through way too much to be in hot water with the cops.
“We’ve got Allie working with a sketch artist to try to come up with images of the doctor and the woman who hired her for the surrogacy,” Violet went on. “If we get something solid, we can run them through facial recognition.”
Brody hoped that would turn up something, but the odds were both of those people had used convincing disguises when they’d met with Allie.
Violet blew out a quick breath. “I got permission to share this with you,” she continued. “SAPD has had their eye on Lila Montgomery for a while now.”
Brody’s jaw tightened. “Clearly not close enough.”
Violet didn’t argue. “Fair point,” she admitted. “But she was on our radar.”
“Why?” he demanded.
Violet looked him straight in the eye. “Because of Tarrant Eddington.”
Brody went still. Remi shifted beside him, just as tense.
“They used to be lovers,” Violet explained. “And we have reason to believe she was helping him stay off-the-grid.”
Brody stared at her. That didn’t track, not with what he knew about Tarrant. “Tarrant goes for rich socialites. Women with money and status.”
Violet shrugged. “Lila might’ve been different. Maybe she got him drugs. But, of course, there’s a bigger reason Tarrant would have gotten involved with her.”
They made quick sounds of agreement, and it was Remi who spelled it out. “Lila probably helped deliver Tarrant’s baby. The baby he planned on using to coerce his wife into destroying evidence against him.”
“Got it in one,” Violet muttered. “And that brings me to another reason we were keeping tabs on Lila. It’s her connection to Eloise Davenport. Technically, the connection isn’t directly to Eloise. It’s to her bodyguard, Zeke Regan.” She paused a heartbeat. “Zeke is Lila’s ex-boyfriend.”
Brody stilled. “What?” He shot a look at Remi, who looked just as stunned.
“They were together years ago,” Violet continued, “but even after they broke up, they stayed in touch.”
Brody’s mind began to whirl, his brain working through the implications. If Zeke had stayed in contact with Lila, then he could have known about the stolen embryos. He could have helped arrange the birth of Brody’s sons.
And if so, then Brody knew why.
Zeke had set this up so his boss could get revenge against Tarrant for killing her son.
“You got a picture of Zeke?” Brody asked. Violet nodded and pulled one up on her phone. Brody recognized him. “He was at Eloise’s house when Remi and I paid her a visit.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” She stopped, sighed. “We don’t have enough to bring Eloise in for questioning. But Zeke is on his way in for an interview.” Her expression was grim. “If he confesses to anything, I’ll let you know. As for now, you’re both free to go.”
She didn’t have to tell Brody twice. He immediately started for the door, but Violet stepped in front of him. He could see the sympathy in her eyes. And the not-so-subtle warning.
“Look, I know what’s at stake here,” Violet said.
“We’re all searching for your son, but it’s the job to us.
It’s not the job for either of you,” she added, glancing at Remi.
“Just don’t go all cowboying-up and do something that’ll get you arrested.
Work with us, and we’ll help you find your son and Tarrant. ”
Brody appreciated the words. But they were just that. Words. He wasn’t going to leave the safety of his son in the hands of others.
“Thanks,” Brody muttered to the cop. He didn’t wait for a response.