The Second Son

“And what might I be arresting her for?”

“I’m not sure. You’re in the business. You’d think of something.”

“I wouldn’t say her arrests in the past have been all that creative. Writing bad checks. Shoplifting.”

“I never said she was a saint.”

“No, you haven’t said much of anything. If you really want to help your sister, it’s time you did.” He measured his words, wondering what it would take to get through to Lacy. “The stints your sister has done behind bars before would be nothing compared to the sentence she’d get if she were to be convicted on kidnapping charges.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Kate is not a kidnapper.”

“That’s a start. Is your sister involved in something illegal or just something that could get her killed?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, rubbing a spot under her left ear. “I’m sure you aren’t going to believe me, but I really don’t know where that baby came from or who shot Kate. All I know for certain is what you’ve told me, substantiated by the fact that she didn’t show up for my wedding.”

“So your story is that Kate missed the wedding, you came looking for her, and that’s when I hit you with the bad news?”

“Something like that.” She clasped her hands in her lap, nervously entangling her fingers. “Believe me, if I’d known Kate was in the hospital, I’d have been right there beside her.” Lacy turned to face him. “I just wish I had known sooner that Kate had been shot.”

“Even if you’d been at her bedside the whole time, your sister wouldn’t have known it,” he assured her. “She hasn’t been fully conscious since she collapsed at our ranch.”

“But she would have known somehow that I was there. And even if she hadn’t, I would have known.” She reached to the ball of hair on top of her head and started pulling out pins. Shiny auburn curls shook loose, falling around her shoulders, wild and tempestuous. She raked through them with her fingers, but her attempts to tame the tangle were futile.

Branson watched the transformation and then forced himself to look away. No married woman should look that good, especially one sitting in his truck. One he had undressed.

He stuck a finger under the collar of his shirt and tugged it away from his neck. The truck was suddenly way too warm.

Lacy leaned back and closed her eyes. Her muscles were taut, her face strained. She had the look of someone fighting demons in her mind. But were they her demons or Kate’s? Either way, Branson had a strong suspicion that they’d become his demons before this was all over.

And the key to Baby Betsy’s true identity lay somewhere in the muddle of facts and danger surrounding these two women.

LACY CLOSED HER EYES and tried to deal with the problems at hand. Ricky and Kate’s town house going up in smoke. Kate shot and lying in a hospital all alone.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not after she’d agreed to the bargain just to keep Kate safe. Only now she’d broken her bargain with Charles. But only temporarily. She’d have to go back to him. There was no way out.

“We’re about two blocks from the hospital,” Branson announced, breaking into her tormenting thoughts.

Lacy sat up straight and pulled down the visor. There was no mirror. Probably just as well since she didn’t have a comb or even a lipstick on her. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered right now except seeing Kate.

“Do you think they’ll let me see my sister if visiting hours are over?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. My badge will get us by the front desk, and the floor nurses will be thankful someone in the family is there to visit the patient. You can probably stay the night with her if you like.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” Anything to put off the inevitable confrontation with Charles. He would be livid. But she pushed worries about Charles to the back of her mind the second Branson pulled into the well-lit parking lot.

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, Lacy and Branson were trotting along behind a tall nurse who had introduced herself as Carol Roust. The intimidating woman had jumped right in and taken control of the situation, insisting she talk to them before Lacy saw Kate.

Lacy was only a step behind her when Carol stopped at the door to the nurses’ lounge. “We can talk in here,” she said, standing back while they entered. “There’s fresh coffee in the pot on the counter. Help yourself if you’d like some.”

Lacy dropped into the nearest chair, nodding yes when Branson poured a cup for himself and offered to pour one for her. Carol declined his offer of the same and took the chair opposite Lacy, crossing her legs.

She waited until Branson joined them at the table before she started talking. “The doctor was here earlier. He said Miss Gilbraith was making a remarkable recovery in every way but one.”

“Which way is that?” Lacy asked.

“She is still not responding to questions or to any attempts to get her to talk. She appears not to be aware that we are in the room with her.”

Branson took a sip of his brew. “So, she’s still in some sort of coma?”

“Not exactly.” The nurse pursed her lips. “Ideally, the doctor should be talking to you about this, but he just left the hospital and I don’t think he’ll be returning tonight. He stressed before he left that any family member visiting Kate be advised of the situation. He wanted you to know about the problem as well, Sheriff.”

“What problem?” Lacy spoke the question quietly, though she wanted to scream it at the nurse. The woman’s passion for melodrama had Lacy’s stomach churning and her patience strained to breaking.

“We think your sister’s inability to respond to verbal stimuli may not be physically induced.” She lay her hands on the table. “To put it bluntly, we think she may be faking.”

Kate, performing? That certainly sounded like the sister Lacy knew and loved. For the first time since she’d heard of Kate’s injury, she felt a little relief.

“That would be a good sign, wouldn’t it, Miss Roust? I mean, if Kate is only faking a coma, then she is recovering in that area as well.”

“Playing games with a hospital’s medical staff is never a good thing, Miss Gilbraith.”

Lacy straightened her shoulders, more than ready to be finished with the conversation. “I agree that it’s probably not the best scenario, but someone did attempt to kill my sister. If what you suspect is true, maybe Kate has her reasons for not talking.”

Lacy looked over at Branson and then stood up. “Now, if there’s nothing else you feel you must tell me, I’d like to see my sister. And I’d like to talk to her doctor as soon as possible.”

The expression on Nurse Roust’s face left no doubt that Lacy had made a new enemy. But what was one more to a list that was growing steadily as the day wore on?

Speaking in clipped tones, the nurse gave them directions to Kate’s room and sent them on alone. The room was the third from the end of the hall. Lacy stopped for a second and read her sister’s name from the card at the door along with instructions that Kate was to have a soft diet with extra liquids.

Lacy knocked softly on the closed door. She didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. Taking a deep breath and trying to prepare herself for seeing Kate in this condition, she pushed through the door and walked to the side of the bed.

“Kate, it’s Lacy. I would have been here sooner. You know I would have been with you if I’d known you were injured.”

The bulge under the covers didn’t move. A motionless lump without even the top of Kate’s sun-bleached blond hair poking out.

Suspicion tugged at Lacy’s mind. She stepped closer and clasped the edge of the hospital blanket. She knew what she would find when she jerked the blanket down, but she held on to the hope that she was wrong.

She wasn’t. Kate Gilbraith was gone.

LACY STOOD at the top of the stairs in front of the hospital. A young couple hurried down the steps in front of her. An elderly gentleman, shoulders bent, stared at her as he shuffled past.

She envied them that they had somewhere to go, a purpose to their movements. She had none. Had no clue as to where to find Kate. All she knew was that her sister was in danger and that she had to find her.

“Do you have any idea where your sister might have gone?”

Lacy jumped at the sound of Branson’s voice. She’d been so lost in her misery, she’d forgotten he was still standing beside her.

“No. The only one she’s really close to besides me is her live-in boyfriend, Ricky. That was his town house that just got blown up, so there’s no telling where he is.”

“She must have friends.”

“Not really. She’s pretty much a loner, except that she’s always involved with a man. The only female I remember her being close to moved out of town about a year ago and never got back in touch with her. Kate took that as a betrayal. And most of her life has been a series of betrayals.”

“Maybe she needs to pick a different kind of friend.”

Lacy looked up at Branson. The artificial lights cast shadows on his face, highlighting his rugged features. For the first time she noticed how young he was. Probably in his early thirties at the most, but the aura of authority he wore made him seem much older.

He shifted his stance, and she realized he’d grown uncomfortable under her assessment.

He tugged his hat a little lower. “I put out an APB on her. I want her picked up as quickly as possible. Kate could be involved in a kidnapping. Even if she’s not, she’s likely still in real danger.”

She swallowed hard, but for once didn’t try to camouflage her true feelings. “I know she’s in trouble. I just don’t know how to help her.”

“I might, if you’d level with me.”

He glanced at the parking lot for a second and then stepped closer. “You think because I carry a badge that I’m the enemy, Lacy. You need to think again. I’m not the dirty coward who shot her in the shoulder. Not the one who airmailed a bomb through the window of her town house.”

Lacy took a step backward and leaned against a concrete pillar, suddenly so tired she could barely stand. Branson wasn’t totally right, but he wasn’t totally wrong either. She didn’t think he was the enemy. She knew who he was.

He was the law, and the law had never protected or looked out for her or for Kate. Besides, she knew the law from the other side, from the office of attorney Charles Castile. The law favored the people with money and clout.

No matter that she ached to trust someone, she couldn’t let it be Branson. She couldn’t be taken in by his seeming concern. Couldn’t respond to the strength of him or the rugged charms of the cowboy who’d saved her life.

Branson placed a hand on the pillar, a spot just above her left shoulder. “I think you’re making a big mistake, Lacy, but I can’t force you to talk.”

“I never thought you law types admitted that.”

“Is that what you want, Lacy? Do you want me to take you to some intimidating interrogation room and harass the truth out of you? Would that make you feel justified in choosing not to help your sister just because helping her means talking to a cop?”

“No.”

“Good, because that’s not my style. And, I don’t know why I’m worried about helping you or your sister when you’re so dead set against working with me.” His eyes softened. “Maybe I’m just not used to saving brides on their wedding day.”

He reached over and took her right hand in his. The unexpected intimacy of the touch surprised her. Even more, she was amazed that she wanted to tell him the truth, at least as much of it as she knew.

But she didn’t dare trust the law. Not in this. Ricky had warned her. The only one she could go to now was Charles and pray he would forgive her for running out on their bargain.

She shifted her gaze from Branson to her feet. “I can’t tell you anything.”

He let go of her hand. “Then I guess we may as well call it a night. Can I drop you somewhere?”

Her insides quaked sickeningly at the thought of returning to her future husband.

Branson’s gaze was fastened on the darkened parking lot. He was probably convinced she and Kate were both kooks. Frankly, she wasn’t sure at this point that he was far from wrong.

Branson took her by the elbow and led her down the steps and over to the parking space where they’d left his truck. “Don’t look now,” Branson said as he opened her door, “but we have a fan sitting a few cars to the right of us in a red Jaguar. He’s been watching us ever since we walked out of the hospital.”

Her heart plunged to her knees. “Early forties, sandy hair and wearing glasses?”

“Bull’s-eye.”

She twisted in her seat and located the last man she’d expected to see in the hospital parking lot. The reality of the fact twisted in her brain, sending stabbing pains to both temples, destroying her resolve. Did Charles know Kate was in this hospital? And if he did, how did he know it and why hadn’t he told her that Kate had been shot?

Branson brought the engine to life. “I take it the man is someone you know?”

“Apparently not well enough. That’s Charles Castile.”

“Your husband?”

“No. The groom I left at the altar.” She lay a hand on Branson’s arm. “I’ve changed my mind, Sheriff. Buy me a steak, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Well almost, anyway.

Chapter Four

Branson sat across from Lacy, sipping his iced tea and watching her chew appreciatively on a bite of her filet. She’d ordered it rare, with a baked potato and salad. A real meal and she was eating like a real person, not nibbling at it as if a normal-size bite would choke her delicate system.

He liked that about her.

He shifted in his chair and scanned the room. He didn’t need things to like about Lacy Gilbraith. He needed to do his job. In the few hours he’d known her, he’d already found out that she was not the kind of citizen who went out of her way to help a lawman.

But something had changed her mind in a hurry tonight. One minute she didn’t have a thing to tell him, the next she was promising “will talk for food.” The dramatic change had come as a result of finding her jilted groom in the parking lot of the hospital. The second he’d mentioned a red Jag, her eyes had grown wide, and the muscles in her face had clenched.

Fear, anger, irritation? Maybe a little of all three. Which made him think that whatever had precipitated her running from the wedding had to do with more than just the absence of her sister at the planned ceremony. Especially since she’d run before she had exchanged the vows.

Branson had expected Charles to follow them when they left the hospital, but apparently he’d seen enough. He hadn’t caught sight of the Jaguar again. Branson would make it a point to find out a lot more about Charles Castile tomorrow. As for tonight, he had yet to learn any more from the beautiful woman in front of him than what she’d told him initially.

“You do know how to feed a woman, Branson Randolph.”

He turned back to his dining companion as she put down her fork and took a sip from the tall glass of iced tea at her fingertips. “You’re not giving up now, are you? There’s still food on your plate.”

“If I eat another bite, I’ll never be able to button Kate’s jeans around my waist. They’re already seriously interfering with my breathing capabilities.”

“Then you better stop eating. It wouldn’t do to pass out from lack of oxygen. As you already found out, buttons are not my strong suit.”

Lacy smiled as she picked up her napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. The red lipstick she’d been wearing when he’d first encountered her had all worn off, leaving her mouth a dusty pink. Delicate. Paired with the wild mass of auburn curls that framed her face, she was a picture of innocence.

He stretched his legs under the table. Pictures might be worth a thousand words, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t lie.

“Are you ready to answer a few questions now, or would you like dessert first?”

Her smile disappeared. “You know, for a few minutes there, Sheriff, you had me going. I thought there was a real man sitting across the table from me instead of a cop.”

“I’m real enough.” Too real, and too much a man, although he’d almost forgotten the fact himself until he’d started disrobing her this afternoon. He fingered the end of his fork. “But I don’t think you accepted this dinner invitation because of me at all, Miss Gilbraith. I think it was the steak you were courting.”

She nodded. “I admit it. I was famished. I hadn’t eaten all day and I’m not sure about last night.”

“Wedding-day jitters?”

“Or as it turned out, my unwedding-day jitters.” She wadded the napkin in her hand, squeezing the fabric between fisted fingers.

“I guess it’s rough on a woman when her dream day turns disastrous.”

“My dream day?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My dream day would involve walking on a secluded beach somewhere. I’d have cool waves splashing around my ankles and a blue sky overhead.”

She released the napkin, letting it slide from her fingers and drop to the white tablecloth. “Actually.” Her tone grew agitated. “You could throw in a couple of sharks, and it would still beat the ceremony I almost had.”

So his assumption had been accurate. “It sounds like this match was not made in heaven.”

“To say the least.” She pushed her plate back a few inches. “Castile came into this world with a silver spoon in his mouth. Me, I was gagging on trouble from the day I was born.”

“Does this story go back that far?” He patted the small notebook in his shirt pocket. “If it does, I’ll need a bigger pad of paper.”

“No.” The spark of life and humor he’d glimpsed earlier gave way to shadowy sadness. “Some pasts are better forgotten, or at least buried.”

He moved the flickering candle from the center of the table to one side so that he could study her reactions that much more closely. “Why don’t I order coffee and you tell me what you know. Your sister is obviously in danger, but it might not be quite as bad as it seems.”

“You’re sugarcoating, Sheriff. You’re not very good at it.”

“You’re right.” He finished the last of his iced tea. “And you didn’t let me buy you dinner just because you wanted to cooperate with the law. You’re scared for your sister.”

“Well, at least we understand each other.”

“The motivation, not the facts. What’s Kate involved in?”

“It’s not the what, but the who.” She lifted a tangle of hair from the back of her neck. “It’s stuffy in here. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“We could stroll along the Riverwalk if you like, talk out there. It’s a good night for it.”

“A stroll in the moonlight—while I squeal on my sister and her boyfriend.” She pushed back from the table and stood up. “Why not? I’ll go to the ladies’ room while you pay the bill. Next time, I’ll treat.”

“Don’t try to slip out on me.”

“I won’t. You already called it. Kate needs help, and right now you’re the only game in town.”

Branson watched her walk away, her back straight and her head high, though he knew fear and regrets were choking the life out of her.

And for the first time since he’d pinned the badge on his chest, he wished it wasn’t there. What Lacy Gilbraith needed was a friend, a man to stand by her the way that snake she’d almost married apparently hadn’t.

Damn, he was doing it again. His family was obviously wrong when they claimed he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. It was just that his romantic inclinations were few and far between. And not to be trusted.

Here he was, letting a woman mess with his mind. Again. Convincing him she was who and what he wanted to believe when the facts said differently. Only this time he would not be taken in.

Lacy Gilbraith was part of the job. She might need a man to stand by her. But he was not that man.

LACY STEPPED through the open door and into the night air. She and Branson had exited the restaurant on the lower level, putting them directly onto San Antonio’s famed Riverwalk.

It was a beautiful May night, and the paved walkway that bordered the narrow, shallow river bustled with the Friday-night crowd of work-worn revelers. A couple passed them, their arms entangled, their laughter adding to the chorus of chatter and music that spilled into the night. Lacy wondered if her heart had ever felt that light, if her laughter had ever bubbled that freely.

She shivered and hugged her arms around her chest.

“We can go back inside if you’re cold.”

“No, it’s not the temperature,” she said. “I like it out here, but I’m not sure it’s conducive to serious talking.”

“Not here in the midst of hotels and restaurants, but there’s a quieter area if we follow the river for a few blocks. Are you up to the walk?”

“I could use it after that meal,” she said.

Branson was right. A few blocks north, the crowd thinned considerably. He led her to an unoccupied bench a few feet from the water’s edge. “Is this quiet enough for you?” he asked.

“It will do.”

Branson sat down beside her. “I know you’re finding this extremely difficult, Lacy, but you don’t have much choice. Bullets and bombs can be deadly. Your sister is keeping vicious company.”

He was right, of course. Kate had a history of bad choices in friends and lifestyle, but a lot of those had been a matter of survival. The truth was, Kate had a heart of gold. But that kind of thing never showed up on a police rap sheet. That’s why people like Branson couldn’t begin to understand a woman like Kate.

But Lacy didn’t need him to understand her. She needed him to find her and protect her.

“I’m not sure where this story begins, Sheriff, so I’ll give you a little of the background.” She searched her mind for the right words, the right facts to share with the eager lawman. The right ones to keep secret.

“Kate moved back to Texas a year ago. She was broke. I asked Charles Castile if he could help her find a job.”

“Your fiance´?”

“Only he wasn’t my fiance´ then, just my boss. He pulled strings, got her a job in spite of her lack of skills and her police record.”

“What kind of job?”

“She went to work as a waitress out at Joshua Kincaid’s San Antonio nightclub. Charles does a lot of work for Kincaid, and he hired Kate on as a favor. I know a lot of people don’t like Mr. Kincaid, but he’s been nothing but nice to my sister and to me when I’ve been around him.”

“I don’t think anyone complains about Joshua Kincaid’s social skills. It’s his lack of scruples that brings the criticism.”

“Anyway, Kate went to work for Kincaid and through that job she met and got involved with Ricky Carpenter. Apparently he’s a friend of Joshua Kincaid’s. He played pro football until he suffered that career-ending injury a couple of years ago.”

“So how does Ricky enter into all of this?”

“He and Kate have been a thing ever since they met. She’s crazy about him. He acts like he’s just as crazy about her. She moved into his town house a few months ago.”

“The one that just got bombed?”

She nodded.

Branson crossed an ankle over his knee, man style. “So, tell me how Ricky enters into Kate’s taking a bullet in the shoulder.”

Jittery spasms attacked Lacy’s nerves. Charles and Ricky had both warned her that this should go no further, that if she talked to the police, she might well be signing Ricky’s and Kate’s death certificates. But now she couldn’t trust Charles, and even before she’d run out on her bargain with him, someone had tried to kill Kate.

“I can’t help you, Lacy, unless you talk to me.”

“I’m not sure you can anyway.”

“Someone is trying to kill your sister. How much worse do you think it can get?”

Branson was right. She’d tried to play by the bad guys’ rules. She couldn’t afford to do that any longer. She sucked in a shaky breath and forced herself to talk. “Ricky came to see me one night about four weeks ago.”