Brett drag Leo through the garage.
She was heaving for breath by the time they reached the threshold of the exterior door. Leo’s body was so heavy that she didn’t know how Brett would lift him.
The garage door was situated on the side of the house and wasn’t visible from the street, but in silent agreement they paused to check and make sure there weren’t any cars passing or anyone walking by.
“It’s clear.” Brett stooped down, scooped Leo up—still wrapped in the rug—and threw him over his shoulder. She bit down on her lip to stifle a gasp as Leo’s arm swung over Brett’s back. The dried blood on his hand and face looked macabre in the moonlight.
Brett struggled for a minute with the weight, then maneuvered Leo’s body into the truck bed. He climbed in and threw an old blanket over the body, and she tossed the bag of linens in the back with him.
“I’d tell you to stay here,” Brett said, “but it’s not safe, Willow. Come with me and I’ll bring you back later.”
The last thing Willow wanted to do tonight was bury Leo, but she had started this and she had to see it through. At least until she got Sam back.
“Let me get my phone in case the kidnapper calls tonight.”
* * *
BRETT SAID A SILENT prayer that the kidnapper would call, but as Willow went to retrieve her phone and purse, he had a bad feeling. What did the kidnapper want?
Money? Or something else?
All questions to pursue once they got rid of Leo’s body.
Damn, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. Actively covering up a crime. If his agent and his fans found out, his career would be over.
Hell, if Maddox didn’t help him out when he finally explained things, his life as a free man would be over.
But he couldn’t let Willow down.
His phone buzzed, and he checked the caller ID. Kitty. Another pesky immature groupie.
Dammit, he’d slept with her twice, then broken it off, but she’d become obsessed with him. He’d warned her that he’d take out a restraining order if she didn’t leave him alone.
He’d hoped coming home for a while might give her the time and distance she needed to move on.
Willow locked the house and closed the garage door and he let the call roll to voice mail, then covered Leo’s body in the bed of the truck. If he got stopped...no, that was not going to happen.
He removed the latex gloves and Willow did the same. He stuffed both pairs in his pocket, then opened the passenger side for Willow, and she climbed onto the seat, her hand shaking as she gripped the seat edge. The wind kicked up, stirring leaves and rattling the windows as he hurried to the driver’s side, jumped in and started the engine.
The moon disappeared behind storm clouds as he eased onto the street. Senses on alert, Brett searched right and left, then in the rearview mirror, looking for someone who might be watching.
For all he knew, the killer/kidnapper might have hung around to see if Willow called the law.
Willow leaned against the doorframe, looking lost and shaken, and so terrified that Brett’s heart broke. In spite of the fact that he was digging a hole for himself with the law and his own brother, he pulled her hand in his.
“We’ll get Sam back, Willow. I promise.”
“But what if—”
“Shh.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “Everything will be all right. I swear.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she broke into another sob. Brett pulled her over beside him and wrapped his arm around her as he drove. She collapsed against him, her head against his chest, her arm slipped around his waist.
The two of them had ridden just this way in high school, hugging and kissing as they’d driven up to Make-Out Point. But tonight, they wouldn’t be making out or...making love.
Tonight they were hiding her husband’s body, and she was almost despondent over her missing son.
Still checking over his shoulder as he turned onto the highway, a siren wailed from the right, and he tensed. A fire engine, ambulance, police?
Suddenly blue lights swirled against the night sky as a police car careened around the corner and flew toward them.
Brett’s chest constricted. He was about to get caught with a dead body in his truck.
* * *
SAM CURLED INTO a little ball, hugged his knees to his chest and leaned against the wall. He was shaking so badly, he thought he might pee his pants. He hadn’t done that since he was two.
Where was he? And why had that man with the bandana over his face grabbed him and thrown him in the trunk of his car?
Sam hated that trunk. He hated the dark.
Swiping at tears, he clutched the ratty teddy bear the man had tossed into the room with him. He didn’t want the old dusty thing. He wanted his dinosaur and his mommy and his room with all his toys.
But he clutched the bear anyway because it made him feel like he wasn’t all alone.
Outside the dark room, footsteps pounded and two men’s voices sounded. Loud. Mad. They were barking at each other like dogs.
They had been mad at Daddy. Then one of them had pulled that gun and shot him.
Sam closed his eyes, trying to forget the red blood that had flown across the bed like a paintball exploding. Except it wasn’t paint.
He couldn’t forget it.
Or that choked gurgling sound Daddy had made.
He started shaking and had to hug his legs with his arms to keep his knees from knocking. He had to be quiet. Make them think he was asleep or they’d come back and get him.
Daddy was dead.
And if he didn’t do what they told him, he’d be dead, too.
Willow clenched her clammy hands together as the sirens wailed closer. Dear Lord, had someone seen them leave with Leo’s body?
Brett laid a hand over hers. “It’ll be all right.”
But they both knew it wouldn’t be all right. They’d lose precious time explaining themselves to the police, and even then, they would go to jail and the kidnapper might hurt Sam.
Brett slowed and pulled off the road, but they were both shocked when the police car raced on by.
His relieved breath punctuated the air. “Whew, I thought they had us.”
