the little things.”
I nodded. Evie was lucky.
Brad wasn’t quite as good at remembering the little things. He had a lot more on his plate than Tom did, though. Tom might be a busy lawyer, but Brad had a multimillion-dollar ranch to run.
That was what I told myself, anyway.
Talon and Ryan had finished eating and were in the yard playing with the dogs. Joe and Bryce were each on their third burger. Getting ready for their teen years. Their appetites were off the charts now. Both of them would be thirteen in a matter of days. They were only a week apart, Joe being the older of the two.
They were very much alike. Both tall and broad, like their fathers, but where Joe was dark-haired and dark-eyed like Brad, Bryce was blond and blue-eyed like his own father.
Both handsome as all get-out and already interested in girls. Jonah had just come home earlier in the week with a poster of a blond and silvery-eyed model named Brooke Bailey wearing a royal-blue one-piece swimsuit. I wasn’t thrilled, but Brad had let him hang it above his bed.
I tried not to think about what he did at night while gazing at the leggy model.
Some things mothers just didn’t need to know.
My two youngest were still my little boys. Oh, they’d be teens before long, but for now, I reveled in their little boy hugs and the little boy scent of their hair. The muddy footprints they tracked in, and their little treble voices calling for me.
Joe’s and Bryce’s voices had already begun to drop. Within a year, those baby voices would be completely gone.
Brad walked back outside.
“Done with your phone call?” I asked.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it.” That was what I always said.
Brad was Brad. He was a provider, and he took his role seriously.
I was dying to tell Evie about my pregnancy, but Brad asked me not to, so I didn’t.
The only person who knew, other than us, was my doctor in town.
“Did Brad tell you about Raine Stevenson?” Evie asked me.
“No. Who’s Raine Stevenson?”
“A little girl in town. She’s been missing since yesterday.”
“Missing? You mean she ran away?”
“Unlikely. She’s only nine.”
My heart dropped. “Then what happened?”
“No one knows.”
“Do the boys know her?”
“Joe and Bryce don’t. Maybe Talon or Ryan does.”
Should I call the boys to the deck and ask? No. If this little girl was their friend, I didn’t want to upset them.
I looked to Brad. He said nothing.
So I said nothing.
Story of my life.
I was used to it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Brad
I listened with half an ear.
The phone call I’d just had pervaded my mind.
The little girl hadn’t been found, and the police had no leads.
And Tom Simpson was out of town.
I didn’t like how these cards were stacking up.
You could be wrong. You could be totally barking up the wrong tree.
But I wasn’t. I felt it in my gut.
No child had disappeared from Snow Creek in four years—not since a child had presumably drowned on Tom Simpson’s watch.
It was a mess. I’d helped Tom pay off the parents to move out of town, so he could keep his good name, and no one else was the wiser.
Except I knew.
And I had to live with that.
Justin. That was the kid’s name. A boy who was being bullied at school, and Joe and Bryce had befriended him.
They were good boys. Really good boys. That was how I knew my son would not grow up to be like me.
Thank God.
I hadn’t wanted to grow up to be like my old man, but here I was, a damned clone of him.
Using my money to make things go away.
I’d done some research after the drowning—research into what the Future Lawmakers and their gangster cohorts were really into.
What I’d found had nauseated me.
Still did.
I wasn’t sure Justin had actually drowned, but I pushed it to the back of my mind.
I didn’t let myself think about it for one reason and one reason only. I could do nothing. Wendy had seen to that.
All my resources, and I couldn’t stop the horror that these men—whom I’d once considered friends—were doing to others, to the most vulnerable.
I checked my watch.
It was time.
I stood. “Excuse me for a minute, please.”
Daphne and Evie nodded.
I walked into the house and down the hallway to my office.
I dialed the number—the number that was engraved in my mind.
“Hello, Brad,” the icy voice said.
I cleared my throat. “Wendy.”
“Right on time, as usual.”
“We have a deal, don’t we?”
Our deal was she’d stay out of my life