McCullen's Secret Son (The Heroes Of Horseshoe Creek Book 2) (7 page)

But he looked terrified, and she had no idea what money the man was talking about, or how to find it.

Chapter Nine

Willow pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from screaming.

Brett dragged her into his arms, and she collapsed against his chest, her body shaking with the horror of that photograph.

“
Shh
, it’s going to be all right,” Brett said in a low, gruff voice. “We’ll find him, I swear.”

Willow gulped as she dug her nails into his chest. “What kind of horrible person scares a child like that?”

Brett stroked her hair, his head against hers, as if he wanted to absorb her pain. He’d always acted tough, but he was tenderhearted and had confessed how much he’d hurt when he’d lost his mother. And now he’d lost his dad, and she was dumping on him.

If he knew Sam was his, he’d probably be hurting even more...

Maybe it was best she not tell him yet. They needed to work together and if he was mad at her, that might be impossible.

Besides, when she brought Sam home and he grew attached to Brett, it would be even more difficult when Brett left town.

And he would return to the rodeo. Roaming and riding was in his blood.

He rocked her in his arms, and it had been so long since she’d been held and loved that she savored being close to him again. She had always loved Brett and had missed him so much.

Yet when this was over, Brett would go back to all those other women. If she let herself love him again, she might fall apart when he walked away. And she couldn’t do that. She had to be strong for Sam.

Her heart in her throat, she forced herself to release him, then inhaled to gather her composure. She could still feel the tenderness in his arms and the worry in his voice.

He’d promised her he’d find Sam, but they both knew he might not be able to keep that promise. That the men who’d abducted Sam were very bad.

“Willow, did you know anything about Leo having a half million dollars?”

A sarcastic laugh bubbled in her throat. “Of course not. Like I said earlier, he claimed he’d made good money before we married, but I never saw it. He said he’d invested it and when the investment paid off, he was going to buy a big spread for us. But things fell apart shortly after the wedding.” And now she realized he’d agreed only because he’d married her as a cover for himself.

Brett veered onto the road and drove away from the Howards’ property. “What happened?”

Willow shrugged. She really didn’t want to talk about Leo. Leo was the biggest mistake of her life.

“Willow, we were friends once. It might help if you told me.”

Friends?
He’d been the love of her life.

But right now she needed whatever he could give her. “Leo acted stressed all the time.
Secretive
. He left for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. And when I asked about his trips, he got angry and said he was trying to make it big. I...told him I didn’t care about money, but he was obsessed.”

“Just like his father said.”

Willow nodded. She didn’t care why Leo had stolen money or that he’d lied about his father.

All she cared about was who he’d angered enough to take her son.

* * *

B
RETT
STEERED
THE
TRUCK
toward Rawlins, where the state prison was, hoping Gus Garcia had some answers.

He’d do anything to alleviate Willow’s pain. Granted he didn’t have a kid, but if he did, he’d be blind with fear right now.

And he’d kill anyone who tried to hurt his child.

Hell, he’d kill anyone who hurt Willow’s child.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the caller ID display. His publicist and agent, Ginger Redman. Knowing she’d badger him to get back to work, he let it roll to voice mail.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Willow asked.

“It’s not important,” Brett said and realized that for the first time in years, his career wasn’t his top priority. He’d chased his dreams and become popular and had his picture taken a thousand times.

But he’d missed years with his father, he and his brothers were barely speaking, and he’d lost Willow to another man. They should have had a family together.

But...he’d had a wild streak and had to see what was out in the world.

He glanced at Willow and chewed the inside of his cheek. He had to admit he’d had a lot of women since he’d left Horseshoe Creek. Not as many as the tabloids reported, but enough so that he couldn’t remember all their names or faces.

But the only one he’d ever cared about was the woman sitting in the seat next to him.

“Maybe Leo hid that money in his truck,” Willow said, her lost expression tearing at him.

“I searched the truck and didn’t find any money.” Brett gave her a look of regret. “Can you think of anywhere else he’d hide it? Did he have a safety deposit box?”

Willow rubbed the space between her eyes as if she was thinking hard. “Not that I know of.”

“How about a gym locker somewhere? Or an office where he could have had a safe?”

“No. But apparently, I was totally in the dark about what he was doing.”

Brett hated the self-derision in her voice. “Willow, it sounds like he was a professional liar. You saw what he wanted you to see.”

“So that makes me a big fool.” Willow rubbed her forehead again. “What’s worse is that I allowed him in Sam’s life. I trusted him with my little boy, and now Sam’s in danger because of my stupidity.”

“It’s not your fault,” Brett said, as he made the turn onto the road leading to the prison.

“Yes it is. I’m his mother. It’s my job to protect him and I failed.”

“It was his father’s job, as well, Willow. He’s the one to blame.”

Willow looked down at her hands, the wilderness stretching between them as desolate as the silence. Wind whistled through the car windows, signs of winter evident in the dry brush and brittle grass. Trees swayed in the gusty breeze, the wind tossing tumbleweed and debris across the road.

“Sam is afraid of storms,” Willow said, her voice cracking.

“Just hang on,” Brett said. “We’ll find that money. And if we don’t, I’ll tap into my own resources.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “I know you’ve done well, Brett, but you don’t have that kind of money, do you?”

Brett gulped. “Not half a million,” he said. “But I can put together a hundred thousand. And if push comes to shove, I could sell Maddox my share of the ranch.”

Willow’s lip quivered, and he wanted to drag her into his arms. But he’d reached the drive to the prison and the security gate, so he squared his shoulders and pulled up to the guard’s station, then reached for his ID.

* * *

E
MOTIONS
NEARLY
OVERWHELMED
W
ILLOW
. Brett had offered to give her the money to save Sam, when he had no idea he was his own son.

Guilt choked her.

She should have told him about Sam. She should tell him now.

But...there was so much to discuss. And at the moment, they had to focus on finding Sam. Then she’d tell Brett everything.

And pray that he’d forgive her.

But would he want to stay around and be part of Sam’s life? Or would he head back to his rodeo life with the groupies, late-night parties and the fame?

The guard requested their ID and asked who they’d come to visit, then recognized Brett and practically dove from his booth to shake his hand.

Willow tamped down her insecurities. Brett was a celebrity. She was a small-town mom who sold quilts for a living. They lived different lives now, lives that were too far apart for them to even consider a relationship.

The guard waved Brett through and must have radioed ahead, because when they reached the prison entrance, another guard greeted them with enthusiasm and the warden rushed to shake his hand. It took a few seconds to clear security, then the warden escorted them to his office.

“You want to see Gus Garcia?” The warden’s tone was questioning. “May I ask why?”

She and Brett hadn’t strategized, so she used the most logical story that came to mind. “I think he might have information about my husband,” Willow said. “He left me and my son, and I’m trying to get child support.”

“
Ahh
, I see.” He motioned for the guard to take them to a visitor’s room, and Willow and Brett followed the guard down the hall.

Barring a bare table and two straight chairs, the room was empty. A guard escorted Garcia inside, the inmate’s handcuffs and shackles clanging as he walked. Willow’s stomach quivered with nerves at the beady set to his eyes.

He was short and robust with a shaved head, a tattoo of a cobra on one arm, and scars on his arms and face. “Keep your hands where I can see them and no touching,” the guard ordered.

The beefy man shoved Garcia into a chair, and Brett gestured for Willow to sit while he remained standing, his arms crossed, feet spread. His stance defied Garcia to start something.

“What do you want with me?” Garcia asked.

“My husband was Leo Howard,” Willow began.

Garcia looked genuinely shocked. “Howard got married?”

“Yes,” Willow said. “Five years ago.”

Garcia chuckled. “That’s a surprise.”

Brett cleared his throat. “We need to know what happened between you and Howard and those other men the police suspected were working with you on that cattle-rustling ring.” Brett hesitated, obviously studying Garcia’s reaction. “You took the fall for them. Why?”

“Who the hell told you to come and talk to me?” Garcia’s eyes darted sideways as if he thought he was being lured into a trap.

“Look, we don’t care what you did,” Brett said. “But we suspect that you were working with a group, and that Howard was involved. We also believe that Howard took the money you all made, and tried to cut your partners out of their share.

Anger slashed on Garcia’s face, and he stood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, leave.”

“Please,” Willow said.

“I don’t know where any money is.” Garcia waved his handcuffs in the air. “How could I? I’ve been locked up in this hellhole.”

“But Leo worked with you, didn’t he?” Willow cried. “Did he promise you he’d keep your share if you took the fall?”

Garcia turned to leave, but Willow caught his arm. He froze, his body teeming with anger. The guard stepped forward, but Willow gave him a pleading look and the guard stepped back.

Willow lowered her voice. “Please, Mr. Garcia. I think Leo swindled or betrayed your partners. Now they’ve kidnapped my son. If I don’t give them that money, there’s no telling what they’ll do to him.”

Garcia’s eyes glittered with a warning that made Willow shiver and sink back into the chair. If he didn’t have the answers they needed or refused to help her, how could she save Sam?

* * *

B
RETT
TRIED
TO
get into Gus Garcia’s head, but he didn’t know what made the man tick. The only reason he could fathom that the man had confessed and covered for his partners was money.

But if he thought his partners had betrayed him, why wouldn’t he want to help them now?

“Listen, Mr. Garcia, I don’t understand why you’d cover for Howard or anyone else, but if you tell us where Leo hid the money or who’s holding it, I’ll write you a check myself. How does a hundred thousand sound?”

Garcia heaved a breath, sat down, looked down at his scarred hands and studied them as if he was wrestling with the decision.

When he lifted his head, his eyes were flat. “I told you I don’t know where any money is. Maybe he hid it in that house he lived in at the time.”

“What house?”

Garcia shrugged. “Some place in Cheyenne.”

Anger shot through Brett. He would find this house, but he wanted more. “Listen to me, a little boy’s life may depend on us finding that cash.”

A gambit of dark emotions splintered Garcia’s face. “Leo was a liar and a thief. I ain’t heard from him since I was incarcerated.”

Brett stood with a curse, then tossed his card at the man. “If you think of anything that can help us, call me.”

Willow looked pale as the guard led Garcia out.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Find that damned house where Leo lived. Maybe he did hide it somewhere inside.”

Frustration knotted Brett’s insides, though. Finding the money there was a long shot. And they were running out of leads.

If they didn’t turn up something soon, he’d contact his financial advisor to liquidate some funds. It wouldn’t be the full ransom, but it might be enough to fool the men into releasing Sam.

* * *

G
US
’
S
GUT
CHURNED
as the guard led him down the hall and shoved him back into his cell.

He wanted to punch something, but that guard was watching him with eagle eyes, and if he misbehaved they’d throw him in the hole. Worse, it would go on his record, and so far he’d managed to stay clean this past year.

If he messed up, he wouldn’t make parole. And making parole meant everything to him.

But dammit, nothing was right.

Leo and those other two sons of bitches that he took the fall for were supposed to lay low and give him his cut when he was released.

But it sounded as if Leo had betrayed them and run off with the money.

He gritted his teeth as the cell door slammed shut. He hated that sound.

Why had he let them coerce him into lying for them?

His wife’s and little girl’s faces flashed in his mind and his heart felt heavy. He knew why. He’d had no choice.

They’d threatened Valeria and his kid. That was the only reason he’d helped them with the rustling operation in the first damn place.

And the woman claimed they might hurt her little boy if they didn’t get what they wanted.

Indecision tormented him. McCullen had offered him enough money that he could take his family far away and live the good life, if he talked.

But if he talked, they would go after
his
family.

All he had to do was wait out one more year of his sentence, and he’d be a free man, then he’d be released and he’d protect them.