Brody (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood Book 3) Read online

  “Did she now? Anything I need to know about?”

  She hesitated before answering. “Not really.” The way she answered piqued his curiosity more than the actual words, but he didn’t have time to get into it now. But definitely later…

  “Listen, I’ve gotta run. I just wanted to hear your voice, let you brighten my day. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Yes. Stay safe, Brody.”

  “I will. Talk to you soon.”

  He hung up before he could make a bigger fool of himself. Those three little words wanted to spring to his lips, but with her ex on the loose, this would be the worst time to tell her how he felt. But soon, he promised himself, he let her know in word and deed exactly how he felt about her. He prayed it would be soon, because he was tired of putting his life on hold, keeping his feelings in check, instead of being with the woman he loved.

  But for now—he had an arsonist to catch.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Brody strode through the door of the sheriff’s station with more questions than he’d started the morning with. After Greg left, he’d called Ben Summers, and spent an inordinate amount of time explaining what happened and asking him pointed questions, ones he’d rather not have had to ask. Ben had broken down sobbing when Brody explained about the second fire. During their call, Ben admitted Sandra’s cancer had returned, and the treatments the specialists recommended were both painful and expensive. Brody didn’t have the heart to tell Ben he couldn’t sell the property, not until the investigation was completed. Ben offered to fly back to Texas, but Brody assured him he’d handle everything he could remotely, and Ben and Sandra wouldn’t have to come back, not unless they turned up something to change the status of the case.

  “Can I get you some coffee, Brody?” Sally Anne jumped up from behind her desk, and gave him a quick hug. Sally Anne was a fixture at the Shiloh Springs sheriff’s office, a middle-aged dynamo who worked there as a sort of Jill-of-All-Trades. Brody didn’t care it might not be considered professional; he’d known Sally Anne most of his life. If she wanted to give him a hug, let her hug away. He considered her family, and he didn’t stand on formality with family.

  “No thanks, Sally Anne. Chance and Greg Summers in the back?”

  “Yeah. Rafe got called to deal with that McAllister boy again. Said he’d be back as soon as he can.” Leaning in, she whispered, “His mother sounded real upset, almost like she was crying in the background.” Ah, there was the Sally Anne he knew and loved. She was a sweetheart, but she loved spreading a little bit of gossip. Never intentionally to hurt someone, that wasn’t who she was, but load her up with a juicy tidbit here and there, and she was a happy camper.

  “Gotcha.”

  He pulled off his cowboy hat and slapped it against his thigh as he walked down the long hall, ending up at the conference room. This room had been a hotbed of activity over the last few months, more than it usually saw in a year. Like most small towns, Shiloh Springs had the occasional criminal activity, but nothing anybody would call major. Some weeks the biggest story might be Eliza and Dennis Boatwright sampling too much of their home brew, and getting a little loud and rowdy. Brody had lost count of the number of times Rafe made house calls on the local couple. They’d never intentionally hurt anybody, but they liked a bit of a tipple more than a bit. Brewing their own beer wasn’t illegal, though Brody got the impression they might brew more than beer, but he couldn’t prove it. As long as nobody got hurt, live and let live.

  Opening the door to the conference room, he spotted Chance leaning back in his chair, hands folded across his midsection, seated across from Greg. Greg had regained the color in his face, but still looked kinda lost.

  “Greg, I talked to your dad. Updated him on everything. He wanted to fly here, but I told him to stay with your mom.”

  Greg shifted in his chair, and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even more. “Good. The last thing he needs is more stress right now. Did he tell you about mom’s new treatments?”

  Brody slid into one of the chairs lining the long table, and tossed his hat on the one beside him. “Yeah. I’m sorry to hear about her cancer returning.”

  “I hate it. It’s a horrible, painful way to live. We’d hoped with the last round of chemo it was gone for good. She was doing really well. Her and Dad were doing things again, going out and having fun. Now, it’s like she’s fallen into a deep, dark hole she can’t climb out of. And the treatments, they’re worse than the disease.”

  “I’m sorry. Is there anything they need?” Chance’s voice was filled with compassion.

  Greg shook his head again. “Everything that can be done is being done. I know Dad’s been hoping to sell the property, to help offset the costs of the new treatments. Now, with this setback…” His voice trailed off and he leaned back in the chair, and scrubbed his hands across his face.

  “We’ll get it figured out as soon as we can, I promise. I’ll talk to Momma, see what we can do about getting the place sold once the case is cleared. Hang in there, Greg.”

  “Unless you need me for anything, I’ve gotta head out.” Chance stood and shook Greg’s hand. “Hang in there. Brody will figure out who burned your property, and I’ll be more than happy to prosecute them.”

  “I’ve got it covered. Thanks, bro.”

  After Chance left, Brody looked at Greg, wishing he really didn’t have to question his friend, but what choice did he have? There weren’t any suspects. Maybe with a little judicious prodding, Greg might be able to come up with some info, some subconscious knowledge that might click with a little poking beneath the surface.

  “Go ahead, Brody. Ask me whatever you need to know.”

  “Can you think of anybody who’d want to set the fire, intentionally or otherwise?”

  “No. I mean, who’d have a reason for setting an abandoned, dilapidated, half-falling-down structure on fire? I have thought about it, wracked my brain, asking that question over and over, and I can’t come up with a single name.”

  “Okay. When I asked your dad, he said he hadn’t kept up the insurance payments to cover the home or the barn, thinking it would sell right away. Did you know that?”

  “I knew. Brody, I’ve gotta tell you something, and it’s gonna make me look guilty as sin. When Dad told me what he was going to do, let the policies lapse because they didn’t have the money with Mom’s treatments, I couldn’t let it go. The place, barn and house, it’s still insured. I made arrangements with the insurance company, took over the payments on the policy. I didn’t tell him or Mom. You know how he is: his stubborn pride wouldn’t have let me keep making the payments. So I kept it to myself.”

  “Neither of your parents know about you keeping up the payments?”

  Greg stood, pushing his chair all the way back against the wall, his movements awkward and stiff. “I’ve kept making those payments for the last couple of years, ever since they moved to Florida. We expected the property to sell right away, but when it didn’t, I couldn’t bring myself to stop paying for the insurance. Just because I didn’t want to live there, didn’t mean it wasn’t worth something. It’s a prime piece of real estate, and I’m really surprised it hasn’t sold. Also, I figured if a buyer knew the place was insured, it might be more appealing toward a sale.”

  “How much is the place insured for?”

  “Whatever amount Dad had on there. I didn’t change it or raise it, I simply continued making the payments.” He stopped pacing, and closed his eyes, concentrating hard. “If I remember right, I think the whole place is covered for about a million and a quarter.”

  Brody jotted down the figure, next to his notes about Greg making the payments. This was another angle he’d have to look into, because it put a different spin on motive. He got a little tingle on the back of his neck, the one he got whenever his instincts started kicking it, and figured he might be onto something. Money made people do crazy things.

  “Wasn’t it hard to keep up those payments, Greg? Insurance,
especially that amount, isn’t cheap.”

  Greg ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up on top like a rooster’s coxcomb. “I guess. Never really thought about it. They’d send the bill and I’d pay it all in one lump sum. Took it out of savings and didn’t worry about it until the next year, when it came due.” His body stiffened and he stared at Brody, his face a mask of horror. “You don’t think I did this? Brody, that farm was my home. My father’s place. His father’s before him.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. Calm down. I have to cover all my bases. Insurance fraud is huge. You’d be surprised how many people think they can get away with burning down their place, covering it with huge insurance policies. But that’s only one angle here, and easily disproven. It won’t take long to rule out money as a motive.”

  “Good. I’m still trying to wrap my head around somebody burning down the barn. I know it wasn’t much to look at, but it had been standing for decades. Like the house. It doesn’t make sense. Do you think maybe kids did it? You know, a dare or something?”

  “Right now, I’m looking into anything and everything. I won’t stop until I know how it happened and who did it.” Brody’s voice came out harsher than he intended, and he watched the color drain from Greg’s face. He plopped back into the chair he’d vacated earlier, looking like the weight of the world pressed down on him and he was suffocating under the pressure.

  “You okay?”

  Gregg shook himself, his whole body jerking. “Yeah. We about done here? This has all been a bit much—I guess it affected me more than I thought it would. I need to head home, unless you’ve got more questions?”

  “That’ll do for now, Greg. If I need anything else, I’ll give you a call.”

  Brody watched Greg slowly rise from the chair and start down the hall. He turned back once, and gave a half-hearted wave, and then disappeared out the front door. With a sigh, he followed, knowing Greg had forgotten his car was still at the Big House. Shock would do that to a person.

  With a quick wave to Sally Anne, he caught up with Greg standing on the sidewalk, and drove him back to his family’s ranch, then watched him head back to San Antonio. That little niggle of instinct told him there was something else, something more, behind the Summers’ fire, and he was close. Facts and figures raced through his head, spinning and swirling, beginning to coalesce into a picture—one he hoped was wrong. Because if his instincts were on point, more than one family would suffer as a result.

  Sometimes he really hated being right.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Beth stood on the front porch, and watched the white sedan driving toward the Big House. Camilla called from Houston earlier, after picking up her rental car, letting Beth know she was on her way. Camilla had been crying, anxious and upset about Evan’s escape. She’d gotten a call from the FBI, questioning her about her brother’s whereabouts and warning her to contact them if her brother contacted her in any way. Beth couldn’t imagine Evan contacting Camilla, not after Camilla cut ties with him after he took the plea deal.

  Stepping off the porch, Beth waited for her to park the car beside Ms. Patti’s white Escalade before walking to meet her. Camilla threw herself into Beth’s arms, her red eyes indicating Beth was right about her tears.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “It’s not your fault. Come on, let’s go inside. Pop the trunk and I’ll grab your bag.”

  “I can get it. It’s just the one suitcase, since I won’t be here long.” Camilla lifted out the suitcase and slammed the trunk shut, before placing both hands on it and leaning forward. “How did things get so screwed up, Beth?”

  “I’ve wondered that too. Looking back, I should have seen the signs Evan wasn’t happy. I wasn’t happy either, though I didn’t want to admit it.”

  They walked into the house, and Camilla set her suitcase against the wall. “This place is gorgeous. I’ll admit, I stopped at the end of the drive and stared at it for several minutes. It’s like a combination of epic grandeur and a big warm welcome home.”

  “Wait until you meet the Boudreau family. You’ll really understand that warm welcome part.” Beth smiled at her friend. It didn’t matter she was her former sister-in-law. It didn’t matter Evan turned out to be a monster, intent on ruining her life. What mattered was the friendship she’d forged with Camilla from the day they’d met. Somehow, she needed to fight past Camilla’s guilt, and get her to realize Beth didn’t blame her by her brother’s actions.

  Beth led her into the kitchen, which was empty of people after a morning rush of Boudreaus traipsing in and out, grabbing breakfast and a quick chat. Ms. Patti had finally headed to her home office, intent of telecommuting this morning, and dealing with the gigantic mountain of paperwork, as she’d called it. Not that Beth believed it for a second. Ms. Patti was one of the most organized people she’d ever met. She ran her business and her family with an iron hand wrapped in a velvet glove, strict and firm yet with a dose of love. No doubt her home office was as organized as the one in town. The woman ran the biggest real estate office in Shiloh Springs and the surrounding counties, and not a day went by she didn’t have her finger on the pulse of the buying and selling community. To say nothing of the woman knowing everything that went on in her town. And Beth meant everything.

  “Where’s Jamie?” Camilla laid her purse on the table, and looked around the kitchen. “I really need to catch up on my hugs.”

  Beth smiled. “She’s in the barn. Last time I checked, she’d helped brush down the horses. Now she’s playing with the kittens. One of the barn cats had a litter a couple of weeks ago. I’m praying she doesn’t want to take one home with her when we leave.”

  There was an awkward silence for a few minutes after her statement, before Camilla touched Beth’s arm. “We might as well talk about the five-hundred-pound elephant in the room and get it out of the way. What have the police said about Evan? Do they have any leads on where he is?”

  Beth motioned for her to sit, and then pulled two glasses out of the cabinet, filling them with ice. She added sweet tea to both and handed one to Camilla before sitting at the table. She measured her words carefully; after all, good, bad, or indifferent, Camilla was still Evan’s sister.

  “Rafe, Tessa’s fiancé, who’s also the sheriff, is in constant contact with the officials at the prison, the Texas Highway Patrol, the Texas Rangers, the Austin FBI office, and a host of others looking into Evan’s escape. Law enforcement throughout the state is looking for him.”

  “This is crazy. I keep wondering what he’s thinking. Doesn’t he know this can’t end well?”

  And isn’t that the understatement of the year?

  “I can’t even presume to understand what’s going on in Evan’s head. I do know his cellmate was recaptured sometime during the night. Rafe heard about it early this morning. Axel Fleming, that’s Evan’s cellmate, and his girlfriend were arrested at the border, attempting to get into Mexico. Both claim they haven’t seen Evan since they left him at a gas station. Tracks with the information we were given yesterday. Evan was last seen at one of those convenience store places, where he changed clothes and disappeared. One of the workers there reported to a state trooper somebody matching Evan’s description came in and bought a bunch of snacks, water, and a map.”

  Beth toyed with the glass, tracing her finger along the lines of condensation on the glass, which was still full. Her stomach still felt tied into knots every time she thought about Evan, out there who knows where. With every fiber of her being, she wished and prayed he was far, far away, and nowhere near Shiloh Springs. But the logical part of her, the part that knew how her ex thought—screamed he was headed toward Shiloh Springs—if he wasn’t here already.

  “A map? To where?”

  “That’s a good question. I don’t think anybody mentioned it.”

  Before she could say more, the back door swung open and Jamie raced through, pigtails flying. “Mommy, the mommy kitty let me play with her babies�
��Aunt Milla!”

  Beth laughed as Jamie threw herself into Camilla’s lap, wrapping her arms around her aunt’s neck in a near stranglehold. “Guess she missed you.”

  “Not as much as I’ve missed her. It is so good to see you, sweetie!”

  Jamie giggled. “Everybody has funny names for me here. You call me sweetie. Uncle Brody calls me Honey Bear! I like that one, because I love honey. Mommy gave me butter and honey toast this morning.”

  Camilla’s tear-filled eyes met Beth’s over the top of Jamie’s head, and she mouthed the words “thank you.”

  Beth gave her a wink, and picked up her tea, taking a sip. Never once had she doubted Camilla’s love for Jamie, and Jamie adored her aunt. It felt right to let Camilla spend time with Jamie. None of the fiasco she called her life was Camilla’s fault, and she refused to blame the other woman for the actions of another.

  Glancing toward the open kitchen doorway, she spotted Nica standing on the porch, cautiously watching Beth and Jamie. She motioned for Nica to come in, but she shook her head, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the yard. Mouthing the words “I’ll be back,” she stepped off the porch, leaving the door ajar.

  “Mommy, can I show Aunt Milla the baby kitties?”

  Camilla’s hand smoothed over the top of Jamie’s head, tucking a loose wisp of hair behind her ear. “You have baby kittens? I love kittens. Are they pretty?”

  Jamie nodded her head vigorously. “And soft. Ms. Patti and Mr. Douglas also got horses, and dogs, and chickens, and cows. The kind with horns. Uncle Dane let me pet one of the baby cows. Oh, and they got a donkey! His name’s Otto.”

  “Otto? That’s a funny name for a donkey.”

  “He’s called Otto, a nickname for ‘he ought to know better’.” Ms. Patti walked in from the hall, a crooked smile coloring her words. Her affection for the critter was obvious from her playful tone. “That darned donkey gets into more trouble because he knows not to do some of the things he does, and yet he mule-headedly does them anyway.”