Assumed Identity(78)

Julie’s stomach knotted as she watched the computer work its magic. The yearly updates of Will’s picture as he’d progressed in age were displayed first, then a comparison shot of the boy at the convenience store and Will’s latest sketch.

They were so similar her instincts surged to life.

“I can’t believe it,” Julie said, stunned. “We’ve been looking for Will Bloodworth for years, and if this is him, he’s surfaced as a criminal?”

“We think it’s a local gang,” Chief Hurt said. “A group of boys have been robbing stores across Texas.”

“Do you think someone bigger is behind it?” Julie asked.

Chief Hurt shrugged. “Maybe. That’s what we have to find out.”

“I have to tell Will’s brother, Brody,” Julie said. “He...never gave up hope that Will was alive.”

Jay arched a brow. “You’ve kept in touch?”

Julie shook her head, a pang ripping through her. “No, but he sends an email periodically to the bureau asking for updates. He’s kept his brother’s name in front of us to make sure we don’t stop looking for him.”

Chief Hurt crossed his arms. “Cord, take Special Agent Harmon with you to Amarillo to work on the disappearance of the Forte boy. Whitehead, you’re right. Go talk to this kid’s brother, tell him what we’ve discovered.”

Emotions pummeled Julie. She’d waited years for this moment, to be able to tell Brody that she’d found his brother. To somehow make right the wrong she’d done years ago.

“Maybe you can convince him to help us find his brother and bring him in,” Hurt said.

Julie’s chest constricted.

Brody was going to be relieved, even thrilled, to know Will was alive.

But how would he feel when he learned the law wanted him? That once they found him, instead of coming home with him, he would probably go to jail?

* * *

BRODY’S CELL PHONE buzzed just as Mason kissed the bride. Laughter and cheers erupted, and the boys from the ranch shifted, anxious for the food. Miles gave his wife a big kiss, which started a chain reaction with all the happy couples in the audience—once again, a reminder that Brody was alone.

Music echoed from the guitar, everyone cheered and clapped, but his phone buzzed again, spoiling the moment. He glanced at the number, ready to let it roll to voice mail. But then he saw the number on the caller ID.

The Texas Bureau of Investigation.

His heart stopped for a moment. He’d memorized that number long ago.

It might not be about Will, he told himself.

Still, hope surfaced. Along with fear.

He knew good and damn well that the call might mean his brother was dead.

The phone buzzed again, and he headed toward the porch as the preacher introduced Mr. and Mrs. Mason Blackpaw and the couple danced down the aisle toward the reception area.

Gritting his teeth, he punched Talk. “Brody Bloodworth speaking.”

A breath whispered over the line, making him tense. “Who is this?”

“Brody, it’s Julie.”

His breath stalled.

“Special Agent Julie Whitehead from the TBI,” she continued, her voice slightly shaky.

Jesus, he’d heard she’d gone into law enforcement. Even read that she’d helped Mason and Miles find the serial killer who’d been cutting up women the last few months.

Picturing her in that role had been hard for him.

“Brody?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Just shocked to hear from you.”

“I’m on my way to the BBL to see you,” she said. “It’s...about Will.”

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the emotions assaulting him. God help him, he had thought he wanted answers.

Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Outside, the festivities continued as Mason and Cara cracked open the champagne. Miles McGregor made a toast in celebration of the new life the couple were starting together. They were happy, smiling, looking forward to their future.

Something he hadn’t done since that horrible day seven years ago.

Finally, he cleared his throat, willing himself to be strong. He’d waited years for this call; he had to know. “You found him?”

“Yes, we think so,” Julie said. “I’ll explain when I arrive.”

“Explain? What the hell does that mean?” All his pent-up anger, guilt and worry churned through him. “Just tell me, dammit, do you know where he is?”