Matt—The Callahan Brothers (Brazos Bend Book 2) (18 page)

Then the rescuers had pulled a single injured person from the rubble, an obviously angry male. The sense of power had faded; curiosity surged.

Who was the man and what had he been doing in Torie Bradshaw’s apartment? A lover? Perhaps another way to punish her?

What a delicious thought.

Must find out about the man.

***

Torie didn’t know what to think of Branch Callahan. He was loud and crusty and demanding ... and a marshmallow with his poor Paco. Imagine, dressing the little thing up like a four-legged cowboy. It was one thing to put bows in Gigi’s hair—okay, bows that coordinated with Torie’s outfit when she cared to dress up—but something else entirely to put clothes and a hat on a handful of dog. Did that make Branch a controlling autocrat or simply an old man with a lot of love to give and too few people to accept it?

Maybe the answer was a combination of both.

But then, it wasn’t any of her business, was it? She was on her way out of here. It didn’t matter what kind of man Branch Callahan was or why he and Matt seemed to be on guard around each other.
It’s not your concern, Bradshaw.

Yeah, but she sure was curious.

And having fits with poor ol’ Paco. “Mr. Callahan, if you want posed pictures, you need to do something to make him sit and stay.”

“He’s just like my boys. Doesn’t mind me worth beans.”

“Then let me do candid shots rather than a formal—” Torie broke off abruptly when she spied Matt coming around a corner. He looked grim, all business, hard and focused.

Something was terribly wrong.

Torie recalled what he’d said about Brazos Bend not being the real world. Well, one glance at Matt’s face said the real world had come to Brazos Bend. Torie’s heart sank to her stomach.

He went straight to Bill Reynolds and the two spoke quietly for almost two minutes. Branch was busy attempting to coax Paco to prop his front paws on an island stump in a sea of bluebonnets, so he didn’t notice the development.

Matt and the bodyguard finished their conversation; then Matt shot a quick, accusing glare toward Torie. It cut like a knife, and she softly gasped and took an inadvertent step backward. Why the vicious look? She hadn’t done anything more than take pictures.
 

“Branch, we’re done here,” Matt said. “Ms. Bradshaw has a plane to catch at DFW. She needs to get on the road.”

His father stuttered. “A plane to catch! But ... what about your romance? What about the wedding!”

“That nonsense is all in your mind, Branch.”

“What happened, Matt?” Torie asked.

He ignored her question. The chill in his voice as he spoke to his father could have made ice. “She’s leaving Brazos Bend right now.”

Torie’s mind whirled. He was obviously furious at her. Why? “What’s going on, Matt?”

“Get in Reynolds’s SUV, Victoria.”

“Victoria? Victoria Bradshaw? Torie Bradshaw?”

Ignoring his father’s outraged questions and Torie’s own shock, Matt grabbed her arm above the elbow and steered her toward the bodyguard’s vehicle.

“But ... but ... what about Gigi?” she said. “I’m not leaving Gigi!”

“I’ll get the damned dog.” Matt all but picked Torie up and tossed her in the passenger seat, then slammed the door. When he returned a few minutes later, he had a snarling Gigi in his left arm. He held his cell phone to his ear with his right. He stood outside the truck for a few minutes, his manner agitated at first, then calming as the call continued. Finally, he opened Torie’s door and handed her Gigi. “... call in a few favors. Should have some answers by tonight. More tomorrow. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, I plan to. Sure. All right. Give Maddie a kiss for me. Y’all drive careful.”

“Matt? What’s going on?” Torie asked when he disconnected his call.

“You do what Bill tells you to do. No arguments.”

Then he slammed the door and banged his hand against the hood, signaling Bill to go.

The SUV pulled away from Cottonwood Cottage, and Torie sat in stunned stupor. “He didn’t even say goodbye.” Glancing at her bodyguard, she asked, “Do you know what happened, Mr. Reynolds?”

The bodyguard spared her a quick glance. “Someone rigged a natural gas explosion in your apartment. His brother triggered it.”

Torie froze. “What did you say?”

“Your apartment exploded with Mark Callahan in it.”

She gasped aloud as fear clutched her heart. Swallowing hard, she asked, “Is he ... ?”

“Banged up and in the hospital, but alive. Whoever is after you certainly means business.”

Relief rushed through her, making her weak.
Thank God.
“This is terrible. I never intended ...” She let her voice trail off, not knowing how to complete her thought.

Matt’s brother. No wonder he’d given her such an angry look. Torie knew from her sister that he’d already lost his brother John. Now she—well, her problems, anyway—had almost cost him another.
 

She was lucky he hadn’t drawn his gun and drilled her. Had their roles been reversed and Helen hurt, Torie probably would have drawn her pink pistol.

Then another thought occurred. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“The couple next door were trapped by debris, but made it out relatively unscathed.”

Torie clutched Gigi tight. “Their baby?”

“Baby was fine.”

She sent up a quick, silent prayer of thanks, then spent the next few minutes holding back hysteria. An explosion. Someone rigged an explosion in her apartment. Like a bomb. She pictured the big black ball with a sizzling wick like in cartoons. Then Wile E. Coyote with his bundle of dynamite. Nausea rolled in her stomach.

She was scared. She wished she had someone to hold her, to protect her. To tell her everything would be all right. She wished for her lover from last night.

Might as well wish for a Pulitzer Prize for paparazzi photography.

She leaned back against the headrest and concentrated on keeping her breakfast down. If her father were here, he’d tell her she shouldn’t be surprised by the turn her life had taken. He’d tell her it was all her fault for having attracted a stalker. It was her fault someone wanted to kill her. Her fault Matt’s brother had been caught in the cross fire.

She looked at the driver, knowing her eyes must be a little wild. “I need to tell Matt that I’m sorry. I never should have come here. Can I call him? Do you have his number?”

“I’m sure he’s busy now. Why don’t you wait until tonight and tell him when you see him?”

“When I see him?” She sat up straight. “Where? Aren’t you taking me to Austin?”

“No, ma’am. I’m taking you to his lake house. We’re to lie low there until he arrives.”

Torie sank back against her seat, staring straight ahead, her hands trembling. She felt horrible that others had been hurt in her place. She felt frightened. The pictures, the dog ... that was bad enough, but to rig an explosion? Who hated her so much and why?

Even as she shivered with bone-chilling fear, a small flicker of warmth burned in her heart.

Matt hadn’t abandoned her, after all.

***

Matt’s phone rang and he checked the number. “Mark?”

“Yeah.”

Thank you, God
. Matt briefly closed his eyes. “Am I glad to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be so quick to say that if I were you. I talked to Luke.”

“Good. So he’s filled you in on the plan.”

“You know, bro, I’m the one with the concussion, so why do you have a head injury? If you think I’m getting on a plane and coming to the absolute last place in the world I want to be, then you’re crazy.”

“I very well may be crazy, but I need your help, Mark.”

There was a long silence, then his brother spat an expletive.

One corner of Matt’s mouth lifted. He could always count on Mark’s fierce sense of family loyalty—at least where he and Luke were concerned. Branch was another matter entirely. “The plane is fueled and ready whenever you are.”

Mark sighed, then said, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

A dial tone sounded in Matt’s ears. He tucked his cell into the pocket of his jeans, thinking,
That’s two down and one to go. He’d saved the hardest nut to crack for last.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up in front of the winery. Les was in the vineyard making notes in a spiral-bound book. Matt braced himself for the scolding sure to come and started walking. Les briefly glanced up as Matt approached, then returned to his work. “Shoots are lengthening well.”

“I’m sorry I never made it back yesterday.”

“I’m not your keeper, Callahan, or your boss. What you do with your time is your own business.”

“Still, I said I’d help you with those new barrels and I didn’t show. That was wrong of me.”

Les peered over the top of his glasses. “I’m not so old a man that I can’t appreciate a fellow’s choosing to pass time with a lovely lady when the opportunity arises. Ms. Bradshaw is lovelier than most, although I will admit to being surprised you went from bullet holes to bed quite so fast.”

“Yeah, well ...” Matt tried to think of something to say in his own defense, but came up blank. “Radio said there’s a chance for thunderstorms tomorrow night.”

Les turned a page in his notebook and jotted another note.

“I saw that. We’ll keep our fingers crossed they skip us for the next week or so. We need clear skies and gentle winds and maximum sunlight striking the buds and shoots.”

“Because it influences the budding process next year, right?” Matt asked, recalling Les’s lessons.

“That’s right. We’ll weave the lengthening shoots through the trellis to maximize sun exposure and protect from wind. If we get a run of warm sunny days, I ought to be able to bring the horticulture kids from the high school out to help with that next week. Think you’ll be around?”

Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know... .”

“If I’m allowed to make an observation, in order to figure out whether you want to spend your days working in a vineyard rather than at a desk in Langley, you might be advised to actually spend some time here.”

Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, Matt said, “Believe me, I’d much rather be here learning about bud break from you than hunting down the scumbag who almost killed my brother earlier today.”

“No.” Les’s head jerked up. “Luke or Mark?”

“Mark.”

Les snapped his notebook shut. “Hell, I thought you were fixing to tell me you were taking off with the girl. What’s the story?”

Matt briefed him on the events that had occurred since he’d left Four Brothers to have his truck repaired, ending with the plan he’d conceived and put into motion after learning about the explosion. “You’re a good tactician, Les. Any changes to suggest?”

Les scratched his whiskered jaw and considered the question. “Have you contacted the sister? It wouldn’t hurt for her to be on her guard.”

“Luke is making some arrangements there.”

“What about the old man? You clueing him in on the arrangements?”

“No.” Matt winced at the thought. “Mark would break my arm. And both my legs. Branch can’t know anything about this.”

Les smirked at that. There was no love lost between Matt’s father and the man who’d in many ways become his dad. “I don’t know how else you could handle the problem short of ignoring it.”

“Be damned if I ignore it. Mark could have died in that explosion.”

“Could have, but didn’t. Might be healthier for you to leave it alone.”

Because he valued his friend’s opinion, Matt gazed out over the vineyard, breathed deeply of the spring-scented air, and considered Les’s point. “Healthier for me,” he finally replied. “Certainly not for Torie.”

“Girl got under your skin,” Les observed. Then he gave his head a shake. “I knew it. Moment I heard you fire up your boat last night, I knew she’d lit your wick. I knew it the minute she pulled the trigger on that stupid pink gun of hers. You just can’t stay away from danger, can you, Callahan?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Matt kicked a stone at his feet. “Last night has nothing to do with today.”

Les simply looked at him and laughed.

***

Torie booted up the computer in the lake house’s study and said a little prayer that Matt had Internet out here in the boonies. She knew a bone deep need to contact Helen right away, and her sister rarely answered the phone or replied to text messages.

Torie drummed her fingers against the keyboard as she waited for the little box that indicated Internet connectivity to appear in the monitor’s lower right-hand corner. Seeing it, she smiled. When the icon for instant messaging popped up on his desktop, her smile broadened. Excellent, she thought as she logged on under her user name. As always during a workday, Helen was online.

Torie hesitated a moment before typing in a post. She hadn’t told Helen about the stalker up until now. She hadn’t wanted to worry her and distract her from her work. Her twin had reached a critical point in her research, and if she knew that Torie was in trouble, she’d lose her focus.