Chapter Fourteen
Remi clenched her jaw as Brody drove them toward Christina’s, and she hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be another dead end.
She could feel the tension radiating off him, coiled tight, ready to snap.
She understood it. The pressure, the frustration, the helplessness of chasing ghosts while his son was still missing.
She figured that’s what the kiss had been about. Well, maybe part of it. There had been heat there, too. A pulse of something sharp and deep that neither of them had expected. But frustration ruled right now. Desperation, too. They had to have answers soon, or time was going to run out.
As Brody sped toward the entrance to Christina’s neighborhood, Remi had to push aside her thoughts when her attention landed on a familiar figure.
Dr. Langley.
He was out of his car, standing at the security gate, his hands moving in frantic gestures as he spoke to the guard, who looked completely unimpressed.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Brody muttered, slowing the cruiser.
Langley’s frustration was evident in the stiff set of his shoulders, and as they pulled up beside him, she caught the tail end of his argument with the guard.
“I told you,” Langley was saying, exasperation clear in his voice. “I need to speak with Ms. Turner. It’s important.”
The guard didn’t budge. “And as I told you, Ms. Turner isn’t accepting visitors.”
Langley let out a quick breath, his eyes flicking toward them. His mouth pressed into a thin line before he charged toward them. Both Brody and she slid their hands over their weapons.
“Christina needs to talk to me,” Langley said, obviously taking up the plea with them. “I can help her. We can all have what we want…” He stopped, his eyes widening as if something had just occurred to him. “You can help me.”
Remi figured Brody wanted to dismiss that, but Langley could be wrapped up in this ordeal with his sons. He might have answers. Whether or not he’d be willing to spill those answers, though, was a different matter.
“Look, Tarrant is after me,” Langley went on, shooting nervous glances around him. “I can’t pay him what he wants this month, so he says I’m a dead man. Protect me, keep him from getting to me, and I can help you set a trap to catch him.”
Brody huffed and lowered the window just a fraction. “While I very much want to catch Tarrant, right now he’s not my priority. And neither are you.”
Langley bobbed his head in agreement while he continued to keep watch.
He looked ready to jump out of his skin.
Maybe an act. But Remi didn’t think so. The fear didn’t mean Langley hadn’t had a part in this plan to use the twins, but it was possible the plan had backfired and now Tarrant truly was gunning for him.
“You can use me,” Langley blurted, the words rushing out. “As bait. As long as I’m protected, and you swear to me on your sons’ lives that I’ll be safe, you can use me to draw Tarrant out. Then, in turn, you can use him to get back your baby boy.”
Brody stayed quiet a moment. “While that’s a tempting offer,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “there’s a problem. I don’t trust you, Langley, and everything coming out of your mouth right now could be a lie. A lie that could get Remi and me killed.”
Langley cursed. “No, I’m not doing that, I swear. I just want to stay alive.”
He continued to rant, but his words were drowned out by the sound of Remi’s phone ringing. “It’s Violet,” she whispered to Brody.
“This conversation is over,” Brody told Langley, and he closed the window and backed up, parking in a visitor’s space outside the gate. Langley continued to watch them, but he didn’t come closer.
“Violet,” Remi answered, putting the call on Speaker. “Tell me you’ve got something.”
“I do,” Violet said. “A couple of things, actually. The techs used Allie’s sketches, and we think Shelby Connelly is a Jane Doe whose body was found five months ago.
No ID on her, so we have no idea who she is, but she was likely murdered shortly after she finished setting up the surrogacy with Allie. ”
Remi groaned. Another dead end, and if they managed to locate the doctor, he had probably been murdered as well.
“We found Lila Montgomery’s phone,” Violet went on. “It was underneath a table at the clinic, and our techs were able to unlock it.”
That sounded promising. “What’d you get off it?” Remi asked.
“Three outgoing calls made around the time of her death,” Violet said. “One to Eloise Davenport. One to Christina Turner. And the third? A number that looks as if it was made to a burner.”
Remi and Brody exchanged a look. That third call could be to the person who orchestrated all of this.
“We’ve tried calling it,” Violet continued. “No answer. But if it’s Tarrant, he might answer if he sees your name on the caller ID, Sheriff.”
Brody didn’t hesitate. “Send me the number.”
Remi’s stomach tightened as Brody’s phone dinged with the incoming message. This was risky. If Tarrant did answer, they had to be ready for whatever came next. Of course, the same was true if anyone picked up.
Violet’s voice remained steady on the line of Remi’s phone. “If and when anyone answers, I’ll try to trace the call,” she said. “Stay on as long as you can.”
Brody didn’t hesitate. He pulled up the burner number on his screen and hit Call. Remi kept her phone close, Violet still listening in. The line rang once. Twice.
On the third ring, someone picked up.
“Well, well,” a familiar voice drawled. “If it isn’t the local yokel cop who wants me dead.”
Remi’s pulse kicked up, and she had to battle the flashbacks. Because she knew that voice. Knew that it belonged to a monster.
Tarrant.
Brody tightened his grip on his phone. “I’m the cop who wants my son. Where the hell is he?”
There was a beat of silence before Tarrant said, “I’ll give you the kid if you and your little PI friend meet me.”
Remi exchanged a glance with Brody. She didn’t believe Tarrant for a second, and judging by the hard set of his jaw, neither did he.
Brody’s voice was ice. “I want proof of life. Prove you have my son, and I’ll meet you.”
Another pause. Then a low, mocking chuckle. “The kid’s sleeping,” Tarrant said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Want me to pinch him and make him cry?”
Brody cursed under his breath, his entire body going rigid. Remi saw his knuckles turning white. She reached over and touched his arm. Just lightly. But it seemed to pull him back, and she wanted him to put a choke hold on the rage building inside him.
“Why would you even have my son?” Brody demanded, but he didn’t wait for an answer.
He plowed forward, his voice sharp and unrelenting.
“It doesn’t make sense. Someone wants to use my baby to force me to kill you.
Head on a silver platter—that’s what your killer wants.
That’s the person who has my son. So tell me. Who is it?”
Silence stretched on the other end of the line.
Brody pressed harder. “Because if you tell me, I get my son back and disappear. No more hunting you.”
Remi didn’t believe that for a second. She doubted Brody did either. But Tarrant? He might just be considering it.
She held her breath, listening, waiting. Tarrant was thinking it over. The question was whether he would take the deal. Or was he about to hang up and disappear all over again?
Tarrant let the silence stretch long enough for Remi’s stomach to twist. Then finally he said, “I don’t know exactly where the kid is, but I’ve got an idea of where he might be.”
Brody’s fingers flexed against the wheel. “What does that mean?”
“It means I have three problems right now, Sheriff.” Tarrant’s voice was almost playful. “Eloise, Christina and Langley. I want one of them gone.”
Remi’s breath caught, and she saw Brody’s jaw clench. “You want me to kill one of them,” Brody said flatly.
Tarrant didn’t hesitate. “Do that, and I’ll tell you where I think you’ll find your son.”
A sick feeling lodged itself in Remi’s chest. Tarrant was testing them. Seeing how far Brody was willing to go.
For a long, gut-wrenching moment, Brody didn’t respond.
Then, he shoved open the driver’s door, moving fast. Remi twisted in her seat, watching as Brody stormed toward Langley who was still outside the gate and grabbed him by the arm. The doctor yelped as Brody hauled him into the back seat.
“Say your name,” Brody ordered, shoving the phone toward Langley. “Say it loud.”
Langley swallowed hard. His eyes were wide with fear, and he was frantically shaking his head. “Dr. Curt Langley.”
Remi barely saw Brody shift his hand before the gunshot blasted through the confined space, an ear-splitting crack that slammed into her skull. The bullet tore not through Langley but the seat.
Langley let out a strangled gasp, his body jerking.
Remi’s heart pounded as Brody leaned in. “Play dead,” he warned the man in a whisper.
Langley gave the slightest nod, going still.
Tarrant’s laughter crackled over the phone. “Hell, Sheriff. Didn’t think you had it in you. Of course, I don’t know for sure you actually did kill the doc, but I’m impressed. Now, I want to see the body,” he tacked onto that, and his voice had taken on a boatload of skepticism.
Brody’s expression was stone. “You’ll get the body when you give me the name of the person who has my son.”
There was a pause. Tarrant exhaled, muttering a curse. “I don’t have a name,” he admitted. “Could be Langley, could be someone else. I don’t know.”
“Give. Me. Something,” Brody demanded. “Then you’ll get the body and my promise to back off. Don’t give me anything, I come after you with guns blazing. You don’t want to mess with me, Tarrant. You don’t want to be in between me and my son, or your head will be on that silver platter by nightfall.”
Silence for a long time. “All right. Don’t blow a fuse.
I was going to keep my end of the bargain, but like I said, no name.
What I do have is an address. My old place with Lila.
Our little love nest, of sorts. But it’s the one place I haven’t had a chance to check out.
I’m not certain that the kid is there. He might be, though, with a nanny or somebody taking care of him. ”
Remi’s breath caught. Might. That sounded like a long shot.
Or a trap.
“Give me the address,” Brody insisted.
Another pause but shorter this time. “All right, I will, and I say this with complete sincerity. I want you to find the kid and back the hell off. I don’t want to be anywhere on your radar after this.”
“The address,” Brody snarled.
“All right. Hold your horses. It’s 121 Water’s Edge, Salado Creek Trail,” Tarrant barked out.
Right before the line went dead.
Brody didn’t hesitate. He pushed Langley out of the cruiser, got back behind the wheel and threw the vehicle into gear, tires screeching as they sped off.
Remi’s fingers flew over the GPS, plugging in the address Tarrant had given them. “Fifteen minutes out,” she said once the map had loaded.
Beside her, Brody’s grip tightened on the wheel, his attention nailed to the road.
Violet’s voice crackled over the phone. “Damn it, Brody, at least wait until I have backup in place. The trace failed. This could be a setup.”
Brody’s jaw flexed. “I’m not waiting.”
“Brody—”
Remi sighed and hit the red button, ending the call before Violet could argue any further.
Later, she would owe Violet an apology for hanging up on her, but for now, they didn’t need the distraction.
Violet had the address and would no doubt send backup.
If it got there in time, great. If not, they’d handle this as a team because it was obvious nothing was going to stop Brody.
She turned her attention back to the address, pulling up what information she could on the search engine on her phone. “This place is part of a small vacation-rental setup. Looks like a handful of cottages on private land. Only one road in and out. It’s isolated.”
A perfect location for someone who didn’t want to be found.
Brody didn’t respond, but she could feel the tension radiating from every muscle in his body. They were still wearing their Kevlar vests, and they were armed, but those things might not be enough. Not when they were walking straight into the unknown.
“Get me my backup piece from the glove compartment,” Brody instructed.
Remi popped it open, retrieving the compact pistol and checking the magazine before handing it over.
Brody’s gaze flicked toward her briefly. She knew that look. He was about to tell her to stay in the car, that this was his fight, his son—his risk.
She didn’t give him the chance. “We’re in this fight together,” she said firmly.
His eyes held hers for a fraction longer before he gave a curt nod.
Then, without another word, he pushed the accelerator down harder, sending them racing toward the only lead they had left.
They didn’t speak as Brody continued to drive, but rather than sit and worry about what lay ahead, Remi focused on finding out who owned the cottage.
It didn’t take her long to determine it wasn’t a single owner but rather a group of investors who specialized in building vacation sites.
Neither Christina nor Eloise were part of that group.
Nor was Langley, and that actually gave her some hope they might find the child there.
They wouldn’t have stashed a baby away in a place that could be connected back to them.
So why might one of them have used this cottage?
Had it been Lila’s doing? Maybe. Then again, this could be the wild-goose chase that Tarrant wanted them on so he could eliminate them. He could already be at the cottage, lying in wait.
Brody took turn after turn, and the road narrowed as they turned off the highway, the pavement giving way to dirt and gravel. Tall trees loomed on each side, their trunks thick with underbrush, making it impossible to see beyond them.
Remi’s pulse drummed in her ears as she scanned the area. The cabins were spaced far apart, at least a quarter of a mile between them. Whoever built this place had wanted it to blend in with the landscape. The area was kept natural. Wild, secluded. A perfect place to hide.
Brody drove slowly, his eyes locked on the road ahead. “All the cottages back onto the creek,” Remi noted, double-checking the map on her phone. “It’s dense enough that someone could slip out the back and be gone before we ever knew they were here.”
“Then, we make sure they don’t get the chance,” Brody muttered.
He pulled the cruiser to a stop in front of the cottage. The place was small, rustic, with a deep wraparound porch and a single light burning above the front door. It looked empty. Too quiet.
Remi’s gut roiled.
She scanned the surroundings, her gaze sweeping over the tree line, the brush, the narrow driveway leading up to the house.
Something didn’t feel right.
That didn’t stop Brody from getting out. It didn’t stop her either. She hurried to keep up with him as he sprinted toward the door. And they almost made it. They were only a few feet from the porch.
When the shot rang out.