Star Witness (22 page)

“Dani, it’s okay. I understand. We Delanceys can be intimidating.”

She shook her head. “You almost died. You needed your family. Besides, I was in good hands with Natalie. She’s a good prosecutor. Not as good as you, I didn’t mean that. I mean, you’re both good.”

Harte grimaced at Dani’s words and her tone.

She continued, talking too rapidly. “So the judge didn’t talk about sentencing. When do you think it will be?” Her hands twisted in her lap.

He put his hand over hers to still them. “Dani, stop.”

She looked up, a faint panic showing in her eyes. He had no idea if she was afraid he was going to say something intimate, or afraid he wasn’t.

“Tell me what’s the matter?” he asked warily.

Her hand squeezed his. She closed her eyes. “I—I’m not sure. I know Yeoman’s going to prison. I know you’re going to be okay. I should be happy to get back to my normal life.”

She straightened and looked at him, uttering a short laugh. “I thought I was afraid of storms. But that was a childish phobia. When I saw you lying on the floor bleeding, when I thought we were going to be killed and I couldn’t do anything—I realized that is real fear. Fear of how easily all this—” She waved a hand. “Our lives can be cut short. That’s a fear I’m not sure will ever go away.”

Harte’s throat tightened. The pain of his wound didn’t hurt nearly as much as seeing her like this. She had learned a horrible lesson, and it had destroyed her last childish belief—that fear was all about oneself, and there was always a stronger person who could wipe it away.

“I know,” he said. “When I felt the bullet hit me, I was sure that was it. I was dead.”

She made a strangled sound.

“But that didn’t scare me nearly as much as the thought that I’d be leaving you alone.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve never been that afraid before.”

“You thought of me?” she said. Her tone was reverent.

“Of course I did. If I could, I’d make sure you never had to feel afraid again.” He squeezed her hand.

“There’s nothing I’d like better,” she murmured.

“Do you mean that?” His voice was subdued. He pulled her hand toward him and pressed her fingers against his lips.

She swallowed, her gaze on his lips against her knuckles. Then she looked at him. “Except maybe to make sure you’re always safe.”

He smiled at her. To his surprise, her eyes immediately welled up with tears. She swiped at them as if they were flies.

“I swear to you I never cry,” she said, sniffling.

“Yeah, right,” he said as he leaned toward her, pulling on her hand. She sat forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

He wanted more, wanted to pull her to him and kiss her hard and long. He wanted to do more than kiss her, but every time he moved, his bound shoulder seized in pain, reminding him of how close that bullet had been to his heart.

Dani pulled her head back and looked at him. “So, what now?” she asked.

“What now?” He smiled at her. “I’d like to pick you up and carry you off to my bed. But I don’t think that’s going to happen for a while.” He shifted in the chair and winced. “The best I can offer you right now is the opportunity to lie beside me and watch me sleep, occasionally fetch me a glass of water and help me get to my feet when I need to.”

“That sounds wonderful, as long as you promise to slay dragons for me.”

“That, my lady, is what I live for.”

* * * * *

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Ultimate Cowboy
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Chapter One

“This special news report just in—an amber alert has been issued for six-year-old Hank Forte. Hank was last seen at the county fair in Amarillo.”

Brody Bloodworth’s heart clenched as a photo of the boy appeared on screen. The little boy had blond hair, was wearing a black T-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. He could be one of the kids on the BBL, the Bucking Bronc Lodge he had started for needy children.

But he reminded him more of his own little brother, Will, and launched him back seven years ago to the day Will had gone missing.

Not from a county fair but from the rodeo where
he
was supposed to be watching him.

Self-loathing and guilt suffused him, once again robbing his lungs of air. He understood what the family of that little boy was going through now. The panic. The fear.

The guilt.

If only they’d kept a better eye on him. If only they hadn’t turned their head for a minute.

What was happening to him? Had he just wandered off? Would they find him hiding out or playing somewhere at the fair? Maybe he had fallen asleep in a stall housing one of the animals...

Or had someone taken him? Maybe a desperate woman who’d lost a child and was out of her mind? A child predator who’d do God knows what?

A killer?

The reporter turned the microphone to Hank’s parents, a couple who were huddled together, teary-eyed and frightened. A second later, they began to plead for their son’s return, and the mother broke down into sobs.

Brody hit the remote, silencing the heart-wrenching scene, but it played over and over in his head. But it wasn’t the Forte family’s cries he heard; it was his own family’s.

His father who’d blamed him from the get-go.

Because it was his fault.

He glanced through the window at the sprawling acres and acres of land he’d bought, to the horse stables and pens and the boys that he’d taken in. All kids who had troubles, boys who needed homes and love and guidance.

But no matter how much he did for them, it wouldn’t make up for losing his little brother.

The clock in the hall struck 6:00 p.m., and he stood, pulled on his duster jacket and headed outside. One of his best men, Mason Blackpaw, and his fiancée, Cara Winchester, were getting married on the ranch in a few minutes. He’d promised he’d be there, and he was happy for his friend, but weddings always made him uncomfortable.

And he’d attended a hell of a lot of them lately. In fact, all of his original investors had tied the knot. First Johnny Long, then Brandon Woodstock, Carter Flagstone, then Miles McGregor, and now Mason.

Yanking at his tie to loosen the choking knot, he glanced at the field to the right where Mason had built a gazebo. Cara had rented tables and chairs and had decorated them with white linens, bows and fresh day lilies.

Half wishing he could skip the ceremony, he started to turn and go back inside, but Mason strode up to the steps of the gazebo then glanced his way with a smile.

Brody forced one in return. He couldn’t let his foul mood ruin his friend’s day.

Still, it was all he could do to put on a congenial face as he took a seat in the back row. Weddings made him think of Julie Whitehead, the only girl he’d ever loved.

The girl he’d snuck off to make out with at the rodeo, leaving his brother alone and unprotected.

In the panicked and horrible days after Will had disappeared, he’d lashed out at Julie. He’d blamed her.

But it was really himself he hated.

Dammit, that news report had stirred it all up again, all the haunting memories. He needed to check the database for missing and exploited children, make sure Will’s information was still there.

Over the years, he’d focused on making sure local law enforcement agencies as well as statewide ones didn’t give up looking. Even all these years later, he still had hope he’d find his brother.

Although that hope was harder to hold on to every day.

Worse, worry over what his brother had suffered ate at him constantly.

Still, he had to know if he was dead or alive.

* * *

S
PECIAL
A
GENT
J
ULIE
W
HITEHEAD
ran her finger over the embossed wedding invitation from Cara Winchester and Mason Blackpaw, then tossed it into the trash. She had worked with Mason on the Slasher case along with Detective Miles McGregor, tracking down a notorious serial killer who’d committed horrific crimes against women. During the case, they’d made friends, but she couldn’t bear to attend the couple’s wedding—not when it was taking place on the Bucking Bronc Lodge.

Not when Brody Bloodworth would probably attend.

After all, he was the founder of the ranch for troubled boys, a project she whole-heartedly admired, but he was also the man who’d broken her heart. Even after seven years, the thought of seeing him again tore her in knots.

Of course, she hadn’t blamed him for hating her after his little brother had disappeared. If it hadn’t been for her selfishness, her eagerness to seduce him away from the rodeo, he would have been with Will, and the little boy never would have disappeared.

She’d never forgiven herself for that.

And she’d made it her sole mission in life to see that one day he was found.

The very reason she’d joined the TBI.

Agent Jay Cord, one of the agents who specialized in missing children cases, cursed as he strode over to her desk. “Dammit, did you hear that another little boy went missing?”

Julie’s lungs tightened. “Hank Forte. I feel so bad for that family.” Memories of the torturous hours after Will’s disappearance flashed back. “Any leads?”

“We’re still questioning all the workers at the fair, but so far nothing.”

She squeezed the stress ball on her desk, knowing the routine all too well. The family was always suspect, a fact that appalled her on their behalf and made her sick at the same time because a large percentage of the time they were guilty.

Next on their suspect list—their friends and relatives. The police and TBI would look into financials, search for motives, the whole time putting out feelers for pedophiles, ex-cons and mental patients. Then the wait for a ransom call. And what to do then?

And if one didn’t come...the terrible realization that their child might be dead. “The parents check out?” she asked.

“So far. Both seem devastated. No financial problems. No custody issues. No enemies that they know of.”

Julie frowned, thinking of all the cases they’d seen. The first forty-eight hours were crucial. Every second after lessened the chances they would find the child alive.

“I’m headed to Amarillo now,” Jay said. “Want to grab a bite of dinner with me on the way? There’s a great Italian place I’ve been wanting to try.”

Julie offered him a smile and considered the offer. She knew Jay wanted more from her than friendship or to be coworkers. But even though she liked and admired him, she didn’t have it in her heart to get involved with him.

Because your heart belongs to someone else.

No...because her heart had been broken, and she wouldn’t take the chance on love again.

Still, maybe she should give him a shot.

Julie stood and reached for her jacket to go with him, but her section chief Lee Hurt, strode in. “Wait a minute, Whitehead. I’ve got another case for you.”

Julie frowned. What could take precedence over looking for Hank Forte?

He strode to her computer, inserted a flash drive, then a second later clicked to open the file. Jay followed, probably wondering if it had to do with the Forte case.

“You’ve been looking for that kid William Bloodworth for years, haven’t you?”

Julie narrowed her eyes. Was he going to reprimand her? “Yes.”

“Take a look at this and tell me what you think.”

Jay leaned closer and the two of them watched as feed from a security camera filled the screen. Two teenage boys wearing dark hoodies walked into a convenience store, combed the aisles until the few customers inside left, then approached the cashier. Their faces were shrouded in shadows from the hoods, but the taller one held a pistol on the clerk, then demanded all their cash.

“Why are we watching a petty robbery?” Jay asked.

Chief Hurt clicked an icon, and the camera closed in on the oldest boy. Julie’s heart began to pound as his face came into focus.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Is it possible?”

Chief Hurt punched another set of keys. “Something about the face seemed familiar so I ran it through our databases, cross-referencing with photos from our missing kids’ files and the facial recognition software program that keeps them updated.”

Julie’s stomach knotted as she watched the computer work its magic. The yearly updates of Will’s picture as he’d progressed in age were displayed first, then a comparison shot of the boy at the convenience store and Will’s latest sketch.