He stared at her, frowning. “There is no way I can find Holly Jo. I’m a rancher. I’m better with horses and cows than people. I’m not a detective. I have no idea how to find a missing girl. I’m going back to what I know and letting the sheriff find her.”
She laughed. “Well, lucky for you, I have all kinds of ideas.”
He gave her a side-eye. “You really aren’t good at listening to people, are you?”
“Just like you aren’t good at accepting help, let alone saying thank you.” She pointed to her SUV.
“Thank you. I appreciate that you gave me an alibi and got me out of jail, but you do realize that my truck is parked only a block away. I can walk, thank you very much.” He hoped the walk would do him good.
She laughed as she opened the driver’s-side door. “Get in and accept the ride. It will give us some personal time before you buy me dinner after you ruined my lunch. Anyway, you need my help, and I need yours. I know your older brother is already in jail for murder, but maybe I could talk to him. If he’s the oldest, he might remember my dad.”
He looked at her and shook his head. “CJ? You think I’m not very cooperative? Wait until you meet my brother.”
“Half brother,” she said as she slid behind the wheel, started the engine and reached across to open the passenger-side door. “Tell me about this missing girl, Holly Jo.”
He realized that no matter how much he wanted all of this to go away, it wasn’t going to happen until the girl was found. As he walked around to the open door and climbed in, he hated to think what ideas Birdie Malone might have for finding Holly Jo.
But if there was even a chance the girl could be found, Brand was willing to at least hear Birdie out. After all, she was his alibi. If he didn’t realize he was in trouble earlier, he did now that he was indebted to Birdie Malone.
HOLLY JO DIDN’T know what had pulled her from the pitch blackness of her groggy sleep—just that it had her heart pounding. She pushed herself up, surprised when she looked toward the window that it was still light outside. Was this a new day? She had no idea. She leaned against the wall, feeling even weaker than before, her brain foggy.
A sound outside the room made her freeze. Someone was coming. She started to get to her feet, opened her mouth to call for help, but then she heard it. The footfalls. It wasn’t someone coming to help her. It was him. She recognized the odd sound of the way he moved because of his limp. Apparently one of her kicks when he had abducted her had done some damage. Just not enough to save her. Only enough to make him swear profusely at her before everything went black.
She fell back, curling into herself tighter as she heard the key turn in the lock. She buried her face in her knees as she drew them against her.
The door slowly opened. She heard him step in, then stop. She held her breath. Why didn’t he move? It was him, wasn’t it? She had to look.
Peeking out, she saw him for the first time since he grabbed her and brought her here. He was large. She remembered how strong he was when she’d tried to get away from him. She hadn’t seen his face then—nor would she now. He wore a mask. Black. All she could see, when she dared look into his face, was his eyes. Light-colored.
She’d heard about girls being taken to be sold to have sex with a lot of men. She’d also heard that some were taken to use as unpaid labor. She stared at the hulking masked figure, terrified that was why she’d been brought here. She didn’t want to have sex at all, especially with a lot of men. Not even one man. Not even a boy. Not even Gus, her only friend at school.
She’d heard what some of the girls at school did with boys. Yuck. She hadn’t even kissed a boy and didn’t really want to do that either. At least, not with any boy she knew.
If he’d taken her to make her work, she didn’t know what kind of work it would be. Since most everyone found fault with the way she made her bed, cleaned her room and tried to help with the dishes, she really didn’t think she would be good at very many jobs.
“I brought you food.” His voice was deep, raspy behind the mask. He put down a paper bag and looked in the empty bucket. “You know what to use the bucket for, right?” She didn’t answer, doubted she could find her voice as badly as her throat hurt. “I’m leaving you more juice, but if you drink it all, you’ll go thirsty before I come back.” He stood there just looking at her as if he didn’t know what more to say.
“I want to go home.” The words sounded scratchy, her voice too high. She was trying hard not to cry. “Please, just let me go home.”
“That’s not happening yet. Be good and you’ll get to go home soon.”
With that, he turned and quickly left, locking the door behind him. The smell of the food made her stomach growl. She’d always been a picky eater. She especially hated meat, beef in particular. HH had made her at least try McKenna beef, reminding her that she lived on a cattle ranch. She still didn’t like it very much, but had learned to keep that to herself.
She waited, listening to make sure he’d really gone before she crawled over to the bag. No matter what it was, she knew she would eat it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE CLOSER CHARLOTTE got to the turnoff to the McKenna Ranch, the more she began to question what she was doing. Did she dare just show up at Holden’s door? With Holly Jo missing, there would be law enforcement officers there. She hadn’t thought of that. He was waiting for word on the girl. She would be the last person he wanted to see.
She desperately wanted to talk to him, to explain. Maybe if she called and asked him to meet her at the creek... Immediately she rejected that idea. That place was too intimate, and after what had happened last time—not to mention what had happened there thirty-two years ago when they’d both been married to someone else—she didn’t dare.
This had been a fool’s errand. Holden had more important things on his mind than her or their son. Holly Jo was missing, believed kidnapped. What had she been thinking? Her timing couldn’t have been worse. This wasn’t the time to talk about the past—and Brand.
She had no idea what his reaction would be when he finally saw her. All the sheriff had said was that Holden had been surprised. He hadn’t known. He apparently hadn’t even suspected. Would he believe that she hadn’t known?
Charlotte slowed on the county road, looking for a wide spot to turn around. Eventually she would have to talk to Holden about Brand, but now wasn’t the right time to bring up old history, let alone old wounds.
And yet if he thought their son was the one who’d taken Holly Jo, didn’t she need to assure him that it wasn’t true?
Why would he believe her? She shook her head at her own foolishness. Ian was right. This had been a bad decision made by emotion instead of common sense.
She started to do a U-turn, but saw that she would have to wait for a pickup coming too fast up the county road. The truck was almost to her when she noticed that it was a McKenna Ranch truck, the logo on the side. Her heart jumped, her breath catching as the driver suddenly hit his brakes and swung in where she’d stopped.
Dust boiled up in a cloud as the pickup came to a stop, blocking her SUV from going anywhere. The cloud of dirt hadn’t had time to settle before the driver threw open his door, leaped out and stalked toward her.
Heart in her throat, she watched Holden McKenna storm in her direction. One look at his expression and she felt sick. She’d never seen him this angry in all the years she’d known him. Hurt, disappointed, heartbroken, happy, sated and hopeful, but never looking like this. Nor did she have any doubt who had caused his fury.
A wiser woman might have locked her door. Or called the sheriff. She’d never been wise, she thought as she opened her door and stepped out, standing firm as he closed the distance between them. He came to an abrupt stop within feet of her as if worried what he would do if he got any closer.
“Charlotte.” He said only the one word, but it conveyed everything. Not Lottie, the name he’d called her since they were kids. Just Charlotte in a tone that told her exactly how he felt even if she hadn’t noticed his big hands balled into fists at his sides, his face a mask of pain and rage. “Where is Holly Jo? If I find out you—”
“No,” she cried, meeting his gaze. What she saw made her flinch. Contempt, yes, but hatred? “Of course I didn’t take the girl. You can’t believe that I would.”
He didn’t look convinced, but the blazing look in his eyes dimmed a little. “Why should I believe anything you say?”
She knew that they were now talking about their son’s conception. “I didn’t know. Not at first, and even when I suspected...I never did a paternity test.” Because she’d known in her heart. She could admit that at least to herself now.
“But you knew that Brand had.”
