One Last Hold (28 page)

Esther had given them directions with a picture and pushed them out of there as fast as possible. He recognized the house as soon as they drove up. It was an average brick home, a barn almost out of place but probably used as storage off to the backside, and a picket fence surrounding a manicured yard. Johnson owned at least ten acres, but there were a few neighbors nearby.

He and Tim trekked to the house while Wesley studied his surroundings. He noticed trash in the yard by the barn, which was out of place with the rest of the immaculate surroundings.

Johnson answered the door with a wide grin. “What a pleasant surprise,” he said, stepping aside to let them enter.

“We didn’t come for pleasantries, dad. We’re looking for Caitlyn.”

“Caitlyn?” Johnson arched his brow. He sat on the couch and indicated they should do the same. Tim stood ramrod straight and glared. “I haven’t seen her.”

His uncle never cared for Johnson, and now that he had reason to suspect him of something, Tim would be as unforgiving as possible until he proved himself. Wesley sat close to his father and studied every nuance of expression on his face.

“I tried to reach her so I could talk to her about Blake, but I couldn’t ever get ahold of her. Have you tried her friend?”

“Her friend is missing, too.”

“If Rayma is missing, they probably found a hotel together. Austin is a huge city. They could be anywhere.”

“Where’s your wife?”

“You obviously ran into her at home. How else did you get directions here?”

“Why do you have two houses?”

“Lots of people have more than one house, son. If you hadn’t noticed, Esther’s home isn’t really a home. I stay there for my reputation’s sake, but that’s about it. This is home to me, one I can feel comfortable in.”

“You’re having problems in your marriage?”

“You’ve seen that house Esther calls a home, what do you think? I need a place where I can kick up my feet. Hell, I’m afraid to even walk along the floors in Esther’s home. Excuse me a minute.” Johnson rose and moved to another room for a minute. Wesley used this time to explore the living room. It had more personality than the last one, and he understood why Johnson would choose to stay here.

Photos adorned the wall and sat atop some bookshelves, and he was surprised to see him and his mom in some of them. Others held pictures of his new wife and Keegan, his stepson. Other pictures Wesley assumed were Johnson’s wife’s family.

“Ah, the hodgepodge of my life,” Johnson said when he returned and Wesley was studying the pictures. “I brought you some ice tea.”

Tim took the tea and sat it on the table, obviously having the same thoughts Wesley did. No way would he drink tea from his dad’s hands at the moment. He couldn’t conceive of evil within the man who raised him, but he didn’t even know him. Not anymore.

Wesley refused the tea and turned to outstare his father. Johnson was a tall man, but his dad had never been able to intimidate him with his height. “When were you going to tell me about your twin?”

Johnson sighed and set the tea glass upon his tabletop, eyed Tim, and glanced back at Wesley.

“You’re right. I did have a twin brother. I found out after my parents died. When I tried to find him, he was already dead, too. As you can imagine, I endured a lot of pain and heartache. Blake was a friend of mine, I thought, and I helped him create the business. I’ve already told you he wanted to buy it and I wouldn’t agree to sell. Hell, he even admitted that. He collected information about me and my family over the years. Things that didn’t even make sense to me. I didn’t know all of this until later, when I discovered he was trying to sabotage my life. He wants the business so bad, he’ll do anything. And he wants a story so bad, he’ll make something up just to have it.”

“What about Keegan?”

“I met Esther when I first met Jack. Later, we became acquainted again and married. Weird, I know, but life works in funny ways sometimes.”

“Too coincidental,” Wesley whispered. He didn’t believe in that many coincidences. Blake’s son was killed, and Blake had been in the hospital. Caitlyn was missing, and Caitlyn came across the information Blake kept hidden. Dammit. He couldn’t prove anything and sitting here talking to his dad was proving to be a pathetic way to spend his time. He needed to explore around the house, see what he could find.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall to the left.”

Wesley closed himself up in the bathroom and skimmed the room, but it looked like a normal house to him. Johnson said he met Esther when he first met Jack, but he also said he never met Jack because Jack was already dead.

He was lying about something.

Wesley moved the curtain aside and saw the barn, closer this time. He noticed litter nearby and wondered why Johnson’s yard was immaculate except there.

“What’s in the barn out back?” Wesley asked when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Oh, I have a car I’m trying to restore, some of my outdoor equipment. I thought about remodeling it for a rent house once, or making it my office, but I haven’t yet.”

Wesley nodded, glanced at his watch, and said, “We need to get going. You have a nice place, here. Maybe one day I can see that car of yours.”

“Definitely.” Johnson stood and clutched his son’s hand in a shake. “I appreciate you stopping by, even if it wasn’t for pleasantries. Maybe one day we’ll all be able to get together for a barbecue.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Hey,” Johnson said when Keegan answered his cell. “They’re loading in the truck now, so give it a few minutes. How’re the girls?”

“Caitlyn put on a crying show when she found out her boyfriend was here but would never be able to help her. Rayma begged me to let them out. They made a lot of noise but as you know, it’s sound proof.”

“Are you okay?” Johnson asked, knowing how Keegan felt about this. He was tired of hiding but he’d reached a place in his life where he wanted to be Keegan. Not the son of a whore who never had anything in life.

Johnson didn’t want anything to happen to Caitlyn either, but unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life in prison, they couldn’t risk letting either of the girls go.

He’d never tell Keegan the girls wouldn’t survive. And if there was a snowball’s chance in hell they somehow made it out alive, they’d be long gone.

“Let’s get out of here as soon as possible,” Johnson said, dropping the curtain as Wesley loaded in the truck. “Give it about five more minutes and head this way.”

Esther must have given Wesley the address to this house because he never used this address for any correspondence and it remained unlisted. The small town was a good front, him posing as a dedicated attorney and loyal husband. Esther had the life she wanted now. Money, influence, friends. She could travel the world and see things she only dreamed of at one time.

He’d done her a favor really.

Johnson pulled out a suitcase from his closet. He wouldn’t pack much, just a change of clothes and his new identity, but he needed to make sure he left no loose ends. Wesley’s visit took him by surprise. He hated surprises.

It was odd trying to rid himself of the mindset he’d dedicated himself to for over twenty-five years. He had been Johnson through and through, capturing his personality, acquiring his wife as his own, and regarding Wesley as his own true son.

He knew Johnson up and down, spent enough time with him to know his past and his family before he died, and since then he had been Johnson Webb, not Jack Forrester. Now, it was time to change his identity again, become a new man, an island boy. He would move to the Caribbean, have women dote all over him, and fish all day. He was ready to retire from the hectic life Johnson led.

And now he had the money to do it.

He wasn’t sure what the authorities would expect him to do other than what he did do–become Johnson Webb. Should he have called Samantha up and told her that her husband died, then leave the broken widow to raise her son by herself? No, Jack Forrester had no family to miss him. Keegan and Esther might not have approved, but Esther was a prostitute who wanted a life and recognized it to be an opportunity of a lifetime. Keegan was just a baby, too young to know any better.

He had loved Samantha, getting into Johnson’s mind frame and loving her more than even Johnson ever would. Samantha’s death had almost destroyed him.

Wesley was important to him, too, as a child and a status symbol. People loved attorneys who had a wife and kid. He didn’t want to harm Wesley. He had been like a son to him.

Johnson might not have been the most loving father, but he tried to give Wesley everything he needed. Though Keegan was his real son, his feelings for Keegan couldn’t hold a candle to the way he felt about Wesley. Wesley was proof Jack Forrester’s life had truly turned around for the better.

He feared this would eventually happen and though he grieved for what he would have to give up, he was delighted he was able to fool everyone for so long. They still would have been fooled if Blake hadn’t screwed it up, but he’d never been out to fool anyone. He only wanted to make a new life for himself. Jack Forrester would never have been able to do what Johnson Webb did.

He’d met Blake in prison. Had given Blake a new life, a degree, a business. And when Caitlyn had decided to pursue a career in journalism and Blake loved to write, it was perfect. Caitlyn could remain a part of Johnson’s life, and he could keep a close eye on her, without her even knowing it.

Blake should never have kept that information. It should have been burned. Better yet it should never have existed. What was he thinking? Blake was just as in on this as Johnson was. He had his own new identity, posing as the owner of a successful magazine and making lots of bucks doing it. He should be kissing the ground Johnson walked on because he was the reason Blake was able to live his dream of writing.

Oh well, Blake would be left with a lot of explaining to do, and Johnson and his son would be long gone.

*

“I need to check out that barn,” Wesley told Tim as they left the house. “It’s a perfect place to hide someone.”

“You really think your dad is hiding her?”

Wesley shrugged. He had no idea what to think anymore, but he wasn’t about to leave without checking it out. He’d search heaven and earth to find Caitlyn and after checking out that barn, he’d visit Blake and pummel him until he talked. He’d come back for his dad if he had to.

His gut quivered as he approached the heavy doors and pulled them open. He realized Johnson was lying as soon as he saw there was no vehicle to restore, no outdoor equipment, and nothing in the way of a remodeling project except one old lawn mower and a large pile of hay. Debris littered the dirt floor, spider webs flourished in the corners. He spotted a small loft in one corner, a door in the other, and was heading toward the door when Keegan shot out of the hay bale.

Keegan held a pistol, which he tossed from hand to hand. “What’s going on, brother?”

All the adrenaline building throughout the day, the anxiety and spleen that made him feel like he was parked indefinitely in the pit-stop of Daytona Speedway, came crashing down on him as he paced around Keegan, his fists balled.

Tim stepped in the doorway and hesitated. Wesley surveyed his uncle then his gaze crawled back to Keegan.

“Hey, Tim, good to see you,” Keegan said. “You, too, Wesley.”

“Don’t give me that line of bullshit. What’s going on?”

“Now why would you think something is going on?”

“Because your girlfriend and Caitlyn are missing, and you’re hiding away in this barn with a gun.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Hunting rabbits.”

The sun glistened through cracks in the wall and highlighted the stifling darkness of the barn. Wesley studied his stepbrother in search of a weakness. So far he hadn’t pointed his gun and kept it lowered to the floor.

Tension braided Wesley’s spine at the sound of a woman’s scream. His toes curled. Without giving his safety another thought, he spun around, ducked, and landed a sweep kick behind Keegan’s calf. The man lost his balance but didn’t go down. Wesley jumped at him and kicked him in the chest. The gun fell as he hunched over. Wesley captured him around the neck and jammed his knee into Keegan’s forehead.

He grunted and fell to the ground, pulling Wesley with him.

Keegan’s arms went flying, but Wesley dodged the blows and punched his stepbrother in the nose.

On his hands and knees, he tried to straighten. Channeling his focus and mustering all the training tools he’d learned throughout the years, Wesley karate-chopped him in the spine. Keegan grunted and went down.

Tim seized the gun and kept it trained on him while he went to the door and wrestled with it. “How do you open this door?”

Wesley didn’t care that he’d almost been shot. His only thought was Caitlyn. He glared at Keegan to determine his next move, and heard muffled screaming that shook him to the core.

He grabbed Keegan up by the throat and hurled him backward, pinning him into the wall.

“Where is the key?”

“I don’t have it.”

“Wesley,” Tim said. “It isn’t worth killing the bastard.”

“It might be,” he said. “Call the damn cops.”

“I don’t think so.” Johnson stepped in, leveling a gun at all of them. “Let him go,” he told Wesley. He only squeezed harder. “Now.”

Wesley, his back towards Johnson, wheeled around to face his dad, pulling his stepbrother with him. He held him upright around the neck then thrust him to the ground. Keegan thwacked his head on the lawn mower. Wesley grabbed him and pushed him toward the lawnmower again.

Johnson leveled his gun at his son’s head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Wesley dropped Keegan and stood, spreading out his arm and stepping back. “What are you going to do? Shoot your own son?”

“No he’s not going to shoot his own son you idiot.” Keegan stood, swiped his hands across his mouth then swaggered over to Wesley and decked him in the jaw. Wesley snatched a hold of him and pushed him toward the wall. Keegan charged again, throwing punches.