McCullen's Secret Son (The Heroes Of Horseshoe Creek Book 2) (6 page)

He didn’t much care if he was dead, and he felt real bad about that. Kids were supposed to love their fathers. But he couldn’t help it—his daddy had been mean to his mommy.

He didn’t want to be dead, too, though.

He sat up on the cot and pushed the curtain to the side and looked through the dirty window. A spider was crawling across the windowsill, and a tree branch was beating against the glass.

He tried to see where he was, but all he saw was woods.

Big trees stuck together, so close that he couldn’t see past them or even between them for a path.

He pushed at the window to open it and climb out. He was scared of the woods and the dark, but he’d rather run in there than be stuck here with these bad men with the tattoos and guns.

But the window wouldn’t move. He pushed and shoved. Then he saw nails. They were hammered in the edge to keep it closed.

His chin quivered. They had locked him in here, and he was never going to get out.

Footsteps pounded outside the door, and he dropped back onto the bed, rolled to his side, grabbed the blanket and pulled it over him, then pretended to be asleep.

The door screeched open, then the snake-man’s voice said, “What are we gonna do with the kid?”

“Dump him when we get what we want.”

Sam pressed his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out loud.

Their boots pounded harder. They were coming toward him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard not to let the tears fall. Then one of them jerked the blanket off his head.

“Say
hi
to your mother, kid,” Snake man said.

Sam couldn’t help it. A tear slid down his cheek. Then the big man snapped a picture of him with his phone.

A second later, he tossed the blanket back to him, then stalked across the room. The big man’s words echoed in his head.

They were calling his mommy. Maybe she’d come and get him.

But they said something else. They were going to dump him when they got what they wanted. Would he ever see his mommy again?

Chapter Seven

Willow couldn’t take her eyes off Doris.

Leo had been involved with
this
woman?

Doris was the complete opposite of her. Everything from her low-cut top to those red high-heel boots screamed that she liked the wilder side of life.

She’d considered the fact that during their marriage Leo had cheated on her. He was a womanizer and liked to flirt. And he’d lost interest in her early on, almost as soon as they’d exchanged vows.

But now she realized he and Doris had rolled in the hay while Willow had wondered what was wrong with her, if she didn’t possess enough sex appeal to please him.

She certainly hadn’t had enough to keep Brett in town. He’d wanted other women, too.

But Doris said Willow had been a tool to make Leo look good. For what reason?

Who had he wanted to impress?

And if Doris had killed Leo, why had she admitted that she knew
her
?

“Can we come inside for a minute?” Willow asked. “I need to use your restroom.” What she really needed was to know if Sam was inside the house.

Doris glared at her, but waved them inside the foyer. “First door on the left.”

Willow hurried down the hall, but she did a quick visual as she passed the small living room. Basic furniture, hair and makeup magazines on the oak coffee table, but no toys or children’s books.

She ducked in the bathroom and closed the door, then checked the closet and cabinet. Sam wasn’t hidden inside, and there were no kids’ toothpaste or toys. She flushed the toilet, so as not to draw suspicion, then ran some water in the sink. When she finished, she slipped out and peered into the kitchen. Doris was handing Brett a cup of coffee.

She tiptoed down the hall to the bedrooms. One on the left that looked ostentatious with a hot-pink satin comforter, a silk robe tossed across a chaise and a door that probably led to a master bath. She veered into the second bedroom, which was filled with junk. Boxes of items Doris had obviously ordered online. She didn’t see any signs of Sam or a child anywhere, though. She checked the closet and found more boxes stacked, many of them unopened. Many from expensive department stores.

How does the woman support her shopping habit?

Brett’s voice echoed as she made her way back to him.

“Where were you yesterday, Doris?” Brett asked.

Doris tapped cigarette ashes into a coffee cup she held in her hand. “I was out. Why you want to know?”

“Out where?” Brett asked.

“Honey, you sound like a cop, not a cowboy”

Doris batted her lashes at Brett and traced a finger along his collar. Willow bit her lip. Surely Brett wouldn’t be attracted to Doris like Leo had...

Brett winked at her, irking Willow even more. “Just indulge me, Doris,” Brett said smoothly. “Were you with Leo?”

Anger flickered in the woman’s eyes for a brief second. “No. I had to pull a double shift at Hoochies.”

Willow inhaled to stem a reaction. Hoochies was a well-known bar where the waitresses offered dessert on the side.

“I suppose someone at Hoochies can verify that,” Brett said.

Doris jerked her hand back. “You said that like I need a damn alibi.”

Willow couldn’t resist. She didn’t like the fact that Leo cheated on her with this woman or that she’d touched Brett, and that Brett didn’t seem to mind. “Maybe you do.”

Panic tinged Doris’s voice. “Did something happen to Leo?”

Willow shrugged. “Do you know anyone who’d want to hurt him?”

Doris took a step toward Willow. “Where is he? What happened? Is he hurt?”

For a millisecond, Willow almost felt sorry for the woman. Doris actually loved that lying bastard. “It’s possible.”

Doris grabbed Willow’s arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Willow extracted herself from the woman’s claws. “Just answer the question. Do you know anyone who’d want to hurt him?”

Doris glanced at Brett as if she wanted assurance that Leo was okay, but Brett maintained a straight face.

“Did he owe someone money?” Brett asked.

“Maybe.” Doris’s voice cracked. “I know he got in some trouble a while back.”

“What kind of trouble?” Brett asked.

“Something with the law,” Doris said in a low voice. “He never told me exactly what.”

Willow grimaced. He’d certainly never shared that information with her either.

“And then there was his old man. The two of them didn’t get along.”

“His father?” Willow asked, her breath catching.

“Yeah,” Doris said as she snatched another cigarette and lit up. “I don’t know what happened between them, but there was some bad blood.”

Willow forced herself not to react. Leo had claimed both his parents were dead.

Was everything he’d told her a lie?

* * *

B
RETT
SCHOOLED
HIS
FACE
into a neutral expression, although it was all he could do not to punch his fist through a wall.

How had a man like Leo won Willow’s sweet heart?

And why would a man cheat on Willow with Doris, when Willow was the most beautiful, tenderhearted, desirable woman in the whole damn world?

“What was his father’s name?” he asked.

Doris shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. Every time I tried to ask him, he got mad. Told me it was none of my business.”

Brett shifted. He wished she’d give him something concrete. Although this could be a lead. If Leo had been in trouble before, especially with the law, he probably had an arrest record.

Another thought occurred to him. One of his buddies had won thousands in the rodeo circuit, but he’d lost it all in Vegas.

“Was Leo into gambling?”

Doris inhaled and blew smoke into the air, her gaze fixed on him. “You’re really scaring me now.”

“Listen,” Willow said. “Leo disappeared with my savings and I need it for medical expenses for my son.”

Brett admired the way Willow told the lie without giving herself away. He watched Doris for a reaction, anything that might tip them off that she knew where Sam was being held.

“I have no idea where Leo is,” Doris said instead. “But if I talk to him, I’ll tell him about the kid.” Her voice grew low, almost sincere. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

Willow gave a little shake of her head, but real tears glittered on her eyelashes.

“Was he into gambling?” Brett asked. “It could explain the reason he stole from Willow.”

“He gambled some, but I don’t think he was in big debt for it, if that’s what you mean.”

“Did he leave any money with you?”

Doris muttered a sarcastic sound. “If he left me money, do you think I’d be living in this dump or working doubles at Hoochies?”

Good point
.

Brett crossed his arms. “Did Leo have any friends he might have been staying with?”

“You mean female friends?” She gave Willow a condescending look. “If he had other women, I didn’t know about it. Then again, I never thought he’d marry
you
.”

Brett cleared his throat. “How about male friends?”

“You mean friends who’d let him hide out with them?” Doris asked with a sarcastic grunt.

Brett nodded.

She stared at the burning tip of her cigarette for a long minute as if in thought. “He mentioned this guy named Gus a while back. But I don’t know where he is. I think he might have been in jail.”

Brett’s instincts kicked in. If Leo and this guy were friends, they might have been in cahoots over something illegal.

He wasn’t a cop, but his brother was. He wanted to ask Maddox for his help more than he’d ever wanted to ask him anything in his life.

But the tears Willow had just wiped away haunted him. He couldn’t turn to his brother now, not as the sheriff.

Although, if he could use Maddox’s computer, he could research Leo’s past. His father, his arrest record, this man, Gus...

That information might lead him to whatever Leo was involved in that had gotten him killed.

And then to Willow’s son.

“Thank you, Doris.” Brett handed her a card with his number on it. “If you think of anything else that might help us find Leo, let me know.”

Doris caught his arm before he could leave, but she looked at Willow as she spoke. “If you hear from him, tell him I’m still here.”

He expected Willow to show a spark of jealousy, but she gave Doris a pitying look and walked back to the car.

Brett followed, his mind ticking away. First they’d stop by Willow’s house for her to pack a bag, then they’d go back to Horseshoe Creek.

Maybe he could sneak onto Maddox’s home computer and access his police databases while Maddox was out.

* * *

W
ILLOW
CHECKED
HER
PHONE
as Brett drove away from Doris’s. “Why haven’t they called?”

Brett made the turn onto the highway leading back toward her rental house. “They’re probably putting together a list of their demands.”

She prayed they were. Although she had no idea what they would want from her. She had a couple of thousand in the bank, but that was all.

“Do you think Doris was telling the truth?” Brett asked.

Willow sighed. “She didn’t seem to know Leo was dead. If she had, why wouldn’t she have hidden the fact that she knew me?”

“She was pretty up-front about that,” Brett agreed. “Did you see anything in the house to indicate Sam was there or had been there?”

Willow shook her head no. “If Doris didn’t murder Leo, who did?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. I think the key is somewhere in Leo’s past.”

Willow heaved a breath. “I feel like such a fool, Brett. I thought I knew Leo when I first met him, but I didn’t know him at all.”

“He showed you what he wanted you to see,” Brett said.

Humiliation washed over Willow. She’d made such a mess out of her life, while Brett had risen to success. “It’s my fault Sam is missing,” she said, her chest aching with guilt. “If anything happens to him...”

Brett squeezed her hand. “Nothing is going to happen to him. If he’s anything like his mom, he’s a tough little guy.”

He was nothing like her and everything like Brett. But she bit back that comment for now. When they found Sam, she’d have to tell Brett the truth.

For now...she needed him focused and helping her. Because if he knew Sam was his, he’d blame her, too. And she couldn’t bear any more guilt.

They lapsed into silence until they reached her house, and Brett parked. Leo’s truck was still sitting in the drive, Sam’s mangled bike beneath it. She gritted her teeth as they walked up to the front door. “Just pack a bag with some clothes. You can stay at the cabin until this is over.”

The scent of blood and death permeated the air as Willow entered the house, then her bedroom. The bloodstain that had seeped through the sheets to the mattress looked even more stark in the daylight.

She rushed to the closet, grabbed an overnight bag, then threw a couple of pairs of jeans, a loose skirt, some blouses and underwear inside. In the bathroom she gathered her toiletries and makeup, then carried the bag back to the hall. Brett was kneeling in front of Sam’s room with a dark look on his face.

“What is it?” Willow asked.

He gestured toward the floor. “A bloodstain. It looks like Leo might have initially been shot here, then moved to the bed.”

“Why move him to the bed?”

“Perhaps to frame you.”

Perspiration beaded on Willow’s hand. “And when the police learn that Leo had another woman, they’ll assume I killed him out of jealousy.”

“It’s possible. All the more reason we uncover the truth first.”

Willow glanced up from the stain and into Sam’s room. Horror washed over her as she realized that Sam could have easily seen Leo being gunned down from his room.

Poor Sam
. What would witnessing a cold-blooded murder do to a four-year-old?

And if the killer knew that Sam could identify him, he might not let her have him back even if she did pay the ransom...

Chapter Eight

“Willow?” Brett gently touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

She blinked back tears. “How can I be all right when my little boy is in the hands of a murderer? What if they’ve hurt him, Brett?”

Brett made a low sound in his throat. “Don’t think like that, Willow. We’ll find him, I promise.”

She nodded, although the fear was almost paralyzing. Finally, though, she stood and went into Sam’s room. For a moment, she was frozen in place at the sight of his stuffed dinosaur and the soccer ball and the blocks on the floor. The top to his toy chest stood open, a few of his trucks and cars still inside although several of the toys had been pulled out and lay across the floor.

She ran her finger over the quilt she’d made for Sam. He’d picked out the dark green fabric because it was the color of grass, and he’d asked for horses on the squares. She’d appliquéd them on the squares, then sewed them together for him just a few months ago.

Would he ever get to sleep under that quilt again?

“We should go,” Brett said in a deep voice. “I want to use Maddox’s computer while he’s at his office and see what I can learn about Leo and that man, Gus.”

Willow grabbed Sam’s dinosaur and the throw he liked, a plush brown one with more horses on it, and clutched them to her. Brett carried her overnight bag, and she followed him outside to his truck.

Sam’s sweet little-boy scent enveloped her as she pressed the dinosaur to her cheek, and emotions welled inside her. Last week they’d talked about Christmas and finding a tree to cut down on their own this year. They’d planned to decorate using a Western-themed tree with horse and farm-animal ornaments, since Sam was infatuated by the ranches nearby.

If only he knew his father lived on a spread like Horseshoe Creek, and that he was a rodeo star...

One day, maybe. Although, Sam might hate her for lying to him about his father.

* * *

B
RETT
PARKED
AT
the ranch house, grateful Maddox’s SUV was gone and Mama Mary’s Jeep wasn’t in the drive. She usually liked to grocery shop or visit friends from the church in the morning or early afternoon, but came home in plenty of time to make supper.

Maddox had another cook who prepared food for the ranch hands, and a separate dining hall for them to eat, as well.

He had no idea where Ray was. He’d made himself scarce since the funeral, probably biding his time until the reading of the will, after which he could head out of town.

“I’m sorry for taking you away from your family,” Willow said. “I know this is a difficult time for you and your brothers, and you need to be spending time with them.”

He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t thought much about them since Willow’s panicked phone call. “Don’t worry about us. Our problems have nothing to do with you.” Except of course, Maddox would disagree when he discovered Brett was covering up a murder, and he’d buried Willow’s husband on McCullen land. Land as sacred to Maddox as it had been to Joe McCullen.

His conversation with his father about Willow having trouble echoed in his head, and he wondered if his dad had known more about Leo than he’d revealed.

The sound of cattle and horses in the distance took some of the edge off Brett’s emotions as he and Willow walked up to the house. “You didn’t eat your breakfast,” Brett said. “I’m sure Mama Mary left something for lunch.”

Willow paused to watch a quarter horse galloping in the pasture. “I’m not really hungry, Brett.”

“I know, but you have to keep up your strength. I’ll get us something if you want to relax in the office.”

She mumbled okay, then he ushered her to the corner table in the gigantic office their father shared with Maddox, while Brett hurried to the kitchen and found meat loaf sandwiches already prepared, as if Mama Mary remembered their high school days when the boys had worked the ranch and come in starved.

He poured two glasses of tea and carried them and the sandwiches to the office. Willow nibbled on hers, while he consumed his in three bites. Their father’s computer was ancient, but Maddox had installed a new one for the ranch business, one he also used for work when he was out of the office.

He attempted to access police databases, but doing so required a password. He tried Maddox’s birthday, then the name of Maddox’s first pony and their first dog. None fit.

He stewed over it for a minute, then plugged in their father’s birthday. Bingo.

Determined to find answers for Willow, he punched Leo’s name into the system. DMV records showed he had a current driver’s license, then Brett ran a background check.

“Willow, listen to this. Leo Howard was born to Janie and Hicks Howard thirty-two years ago, although Janie died when Leo was five. His father, Hicks, worked in a factory that made farm equipment, but he suffered debilitating injuries from a freak tractor accident on his own farm six years ago.”

Willow nearly choked on the sandwich, and sipped her tea. “I still don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me his father was alive.”

“It’s worth paying his father a visit to find out.”

She wiped her mouth on a napkin and peered at the screen over his shoulder.

He ran a search for police records and watched as a photo of a man named Leo Stromberg, then Leo Hammerstein, popped up, both bearing Leo Howard’s photo—both aliases.

Willow gasped. “Oh, my goodness. Leo had a police record.”

“For stealing from his boss, a rancher named Boyle Gates, but apparently Gates dropped the charges.” He scrolled farther. “But it says here he was implicated in a cattle-rustling operation. One of the men, Dale Franklin, was killed during the arrest. The other, Gus Garcia, is in prison serving time for the crime.”

“How did Leo escape prison time?”

“Apparently Garcia copped to the crime. Although the police suspected a large cattle rustling operation, Garcia insisted that no one else except Franklin was involved. Franklin died in the arrest. Garcia is still in prison.”

“You think he has something to do with Leo and Sam’s disappearance?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Brett jotted down Garcia’s full name, then the address for Leo’s father. “First we’ll pay a visit to Hicks Howard, then we’ll go see Garcia.”

An engine rumbled outside, then quieted, and Brett heard the front door open and slam. He flipped off the computer, ushered Willow over to the table and picked up his tea.

The door to the office screeched open, and Maddox filled the doorway, his broad shoulders squared, that air of superiority and disapproval radiating from him.

“What’s going on here?”

Brett shrugged. “Willow stopped by to pay her condolences about Dad.”

Maddox tipped his Stetson toward Willow in a polite greeting. “Hey, Willow. Nice to see you. How’s your boy?”

Willow’s eyes darkened with pain, but she quickly covered her emotions. “He’s growing up fast.”

Maddox smiled at her, but looked back at Brett. “You’re having lunch in Dad’s office?”

Brett shrugged and said the first thing that entered his head. “Thought I’d feel closer to Dad this way.”

Maddox’s brows quirked as if he didn’t believe him, but Brett had spoken a half-truth. He did feel closer to his father in this room. He envisioned Joe resting in his big recliner with his nightly shot of bourbon, a book in his hand, his head lolling to the side as he nodded off.

Maddox gave him an odd look, then at least pretended to buy the lie. Brett was grateful for that.

But he picked up his and Willow’s plates and tea glasses and carried them to the kitchen, anxious to leave.

The day was passing quickly, and he didn’t want Willow to spend another night without her son.

* * *

E
ARLY
AFTERNOON
SUNLIGHT
faded beneath the gray clouds as Brett maneuvered the long drive to Hicks Howard’s farm. The place was miles from nowhere and looked as if it hadn’t been operational in years. Run-down outbuildings, overgrown pastures and a muddy pond added to the neglected feel.

If Leo had come here, it had probably been to hide out. But if he was in trouble, whoever he’d crossed had found him anyway.

Willow checked her phone again, willing it to ring with some word on Sam. Why hadn’t the kidnapper called yet?

Terrifying scenarios raced through her head, but she forced herself to tune them out. She had to think positive, had to believe that she would bring Sam home.

Willow tensed, her chest hurting. Maybe she should tell Brett that Sam wasn’t Leo’s now. But...she wasn’t ready for his reaction, for the anger, to explain why she’d kept her secret for so long.

Granted, she’d had her reasons. Brett had left her to sow his oats. He hadn’t wanted to settle down. If he’d stayed around, he would have known about Sam.

Brett rolled to a stop beside a tractor overgrown by weeds. It looked as if it hadn’t been used in a decade. A rusted pickup covered in mud sat under an aluminum shed.

As he approached, a mangy-looking gray cat darted beneath the porch of the wooden house. Boards were rotting on the floor, and the shutters were weathered, paint peeling.

Brett knocked on the door, and a noise sounded inside. Something banging, maybe a hammer. He knocked louder this time, and a minute later, the hammering stopped and a man yelled to hang on.

The door opened and a craggy, thin, balding man leaning on a walker stared up at them over wire-rimmed glasses. “If you’re selling something, I don’t want it.”

“We’re not selling anything. We just want to talk.” Brett gestured to Willow, and she introduced herself.

“Mr. Howard, I was married to your son, Leo.”

“What?” The man grunted as he shifted his weight. “I hate to say it, honey, but you don’t look like Leo’s type.” He raked his gaze up and down her body. “My son usually goes for the more showy girls.”

Remembering Doris, she understood his point. “Did Leo tell you he was married?”

The older man scratched at the beard stubble on his chin. “No, but he didn’t come around much.”

“Why was that?” Brett asked.

Mr. Howard wrinkled his nose. “Why you folks asking about my son? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“Would it surprise you if I said he was?” Brett asked.

“No. Leo was always messing up, skirting the law. From the time he was a teenager, he hated this farm. I was never good enough for him, never made enough money.” He gestured at the walker and his bum leg. “When he left here, he said he was going to show me that he wasn’t stupid like me. That he’d be rich one day.”

“Was he?” Willow asked.

Howard shrugged. “About five years ago he came back with a duffel bag of money, all puffed up with himself. But when I asked him how he got it, he hem-hawed around.”

“You thought he’d gotten it illegally?” Willow asked.

His head bobbed up and down. “I confronted him, and that’s when he came at me.” He gestured toward his leg. “That’s how come I had my accident.”

Willow’s pulse hammered. Leo had caused his father’s accident? No wonder he hadn’t told her about him...

* * *

T
HE
MORE
B
RETT
learned about Leo Howard, the less he liked him. “Did he give you an indication as to how he got the money?”

“At first I thought he probably won it at the races, but when I was in the hospital after my leg got all torn up, the sheriff over in Rawlins stopped by and asked me if Leo stole some money from his boss. Some big hotshot rancher.”

“Boyle Gates?”

“Yeah, I believe that was his name.”

“Gates dropped the charges?” Brett asked.

Howard coughed. “Yeah. Don’t ask me why, though.”

Brett studied the old man. “You must have been angry at your son for the way he treated you.”

“Like I said, he was trouble. I did all I could to help him, but it wasn’t ever enough.”

“Leo and I were separated for the past three years,” Willow interjected. “Have you talked to him during that time?”

Howard shook his head no.

“Do you know any of his friends or men he worked with?”

“No, I think he was too ashamed of me to bring any of them around.”

Or maybe he’d been too ashamed of his own friends, since they were probably crooks.

* * *

K
NOWING
THAT
L
EO
had hurt his father made Willow feel ill. How had she not seen beneath his facade?

Family meant everything to her. Not money. But obviously Leo had wanted wealth and would use anyone in his path to obtain it.

Brett left his phone number in case the man thought of someone Leo might have contacted the past year.

“You didn’t tell him that he has a grandson,” Brett said as they settled back inside his truck.

Willow’s heart pounded. She hated to keep lying to Brett, especially when he was helping her. But she needed to find the right moment to tell him the truth.

Suddenly her phone buzzed, and she quickly checked the number.
Unknown
. Fear and hope mingled as she punched Connect.

“Hello,” Willow said in a choked whisper.

“You want to see your son again?”

“Yes. Please don’t hurt him.”

Brett covered her hand with his, so they were both holding the phone and he could hear. “We need proof that Sam is all right.”

“I told you not to call the cops,” the man shouted.

“He’s not a cop,” Willow said, panicked. “He’s just a friend.”

“You want to see your son alive, do what we say.”

“I will, I promise. Just tell me what you want.”

“The half million Leo stashed. We’ll contact you with the drop.”

Willow’s stomach contracted. Leo had a half million dollars stashed somewhere?

“Let me speak to Sam,” she whispered.

But the line clicked to silent. A second later, the phone dinged with a text.

Willow started to tremble as she looked at the image. It was a picture of Sam on a cot, clutching a raggedy blanket, tears streaming down his face.

Emotions overcame her and a sob wrenched from her throat.
Sam was alive
.