fingers all those years ago and hadn’t found him since. What would be different now?
She thought about the fact that her little brother would be twenty-two years old now. That he’d be returning home from college this summer, probably fresh from an athletic scholarship. Even at seven, he’d been obsessed with sports. Maybe he still was. A part of her still refused to believe he was gone.
Rebecca let out a frustrated hiss. I’m so sorry, Shane.
What else could she do? She had to think. Wait a minute. What about her cell? If her attacker had picked it up, could she track him somehow? Her phone might be the key. She could go home and search the internet to find out how to locate it and possibly find him. And then do what? Confront him? Alone? Even in her desperate state she knew that would be a dangerous move.
Could she take Alcorn up on his offer to help?
And say what?
Would he believe her when the sheriff’s office wouldn’t?
She needed help. Someone she could trust.
Brody? He was back from the military.
Even though she hadn’t seen him in years, he might help.
If she closed her eyes, she could remember his face perfectly. His honest, clear blue eyes and sandy-blond hair with dark streaks on a far-too-serious-for-his-age face punctuated a strong, squared jaw. By fifteen, he was already six foot one. She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d look now that he was grown. The military had most likely filled out his muscles.
When she’d returned to school after a year of being homeschooled, kids she’d known all her life had diverted their gazes from her in the hallway when she walked past. Conversations turned to whispers. Teachers gave her extra time to complete assignments and spoke to her slowly, as if she couldn’t hear all of a sudden. Even back then, the pain pierced through the numbness and hurt. She’d felt shunned. As the years passed, she realized no one knew what to say and she appreciated them for trying. She got used to being an outsider. Her tight-knit group of friends had split up. She’d figured they were afraid to be connected with her or just plain afraid of her.
Not Brody. He’d stopped by her house every day after the incident even though her mother refused to allow him inside, especially after he’d stepped forward. It had been easier to take the blame than to admit why they’d really been out that night—to play Mission Quest. They’d had good reasons to lie, too. First of all, they weren’t supposed to be playing that online game, let alone sneaking out to meet up with strangers to capture their friends’ bases. And then there was the sheriff. He’d been looking for any excuse to bust their best friend Ryan’s older brother, Justin, the guy who’d let them into the game in the first place. If they didn’t cover for him, the sheriff would go after Justin like an angry pit bull. It would be his third strike and a one-way trip to a real jail. No more acting-out-against-an-abusive-father juvenile stuff. He’d be shipped off for good if their dad didn’t beat Justin to death first.
Justin had cleaned up his act. And he deserved a second chance. Besides, it was no surprise that he’d taken a wrong turn in the first place with a father as cruel as his. The real miracle had been that Ryan hadn’t followed in his older brother’s footsteps.
Even though it would have meant turning on their friends, Brody had visited Rebecca in the middle of the night to tell her that she didn’t have to keep the pact. Ryan would understand.
But Justin didn’t have anything to do with Shane’s disappearance. And there was no reason to screw up another family.
Shaking off the memories, Rebecca slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. She put the car in Reverse and tapped the gas a little too hard.
An object flew forward underneath her feet. She hit the brake, bent forward and picked it up. Her cell. It must’ve fallen out when she was rushing into her car earlier.
A mix of relief and exasperation flooded her as the thought of tracking her assailant via her phone disintegrated.
It was too early to give up hope of finding him this time.
She couldn’t do it alone. Brody had bought the old Wakefield Ranch. Rumor said he’d become a warrior overseas. Would he help? Could she reach out to him after all these years? How hard would it be to get his phone number and find out?
Rebecca pulled into another parking spot and thumbed through her contacts. Her finger hovered over Ryan’s number. They hadn’t spoken in years, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt to reach out to him. She sent a text message to him, unsure this was his number anymore. It didn’t matter. It was worth a try. He still owed her one for helping to protect his brother.
The text came thirty seconds later with Brody’s information.
Seeing it, needing to reach out to him, made this horror so much more real. And her heart pitched when she thought about facing him again.
* * *
BRODY FIELDS LEANED against his truck. The call from Rebecca Hughes had dredged up old feelings best left buried. He’d almost ended the call without finding out what she’d wanted. Except he couldn’t do that to her. It was Rebecca. The sound of her voice had stirred up all kinds of memories. Most of them were good.
He’d known her since they were kids, but they’d been teenagers when he’d fallen for her. There was so much more than her physical beauty that had drawn him in. She’d been the only female Brody had ever trusted and allowed inside his armor after his mother had betrayed the family, stolen money from the town and then disappeared.
The mental connection he’d shared with Rebecca had been beyond any closeness he’d experienced. Looking back, maybe it was the loner in him that could relate to her isolation.
When she’d pushed him away and said she’d never loved him, it had hurt worse than any physical blow. Soon after, she’d left for college, and then eventually moved to Chicago. He’d been the most surprised to learn that she’d moved back to Mason Ridge.
For a split second, he’d hoped she’d called for old times’ sake. Then, he remembered what day it was—the anniversary of Shane’s disappearance—and he knew better.
The conversation had been short. She’d told him what had happened and requested to meet face-to-face at The Dirty Bean Coffee Shop. He’d agreed, ending their exchange. The place was on his way home. Driving to the meeting point had taken ten minutes.
The pale blue sedan parking next to his truck had to be hers.
Knowing she was about to step out of her car and he was about to see her again hit him hard. How many times had he secretly wished he’d run into her in the past few months? Where’d that come from?
Hearing that her abductor had returned hadn’t done good things to Brody’s blood pressure. He wouldn’t refuse her plea for help. And a little piece of him hoped he’d figure out if her case and the memories were the reasons she’d rejected him all those years ago. He’d been a boy back then. Helpless. A lot’s changed.
He’d grown up. Survived his mother’s betrayal of his family and the town. Served his country. Gone on to become a leader of an elite-forces team. Spent time with a lot of interesting women. To be honest, not all of them were interesting, but they were smokin’ hot.
He
