Page 51 of Ransom for His Secret Son

Langley cursed. “No, I’m not doing that, I swear. I just want to stay alive.”

He continued to rant, but his words were drowned out by the sound of Remi’s phone ringing. “It’s Violet,” she whispered to Brody.

“This conversation is over,” Brody told Langley, and he closed the window and backed up, parking in a visitor’s space outside the gate. Langley continued to watch them, but he didn’t come closer.

“Violet,” Remi answered, putting the call on Speaker. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

“I do,” Violet said. “A couple of things, actually. The techs used Allie’s sketches, and we think Shelby Connelly is a Jane Doe whose body was found five months ago. No ID on her, so we have no idea who she is, but she was likely murdered shortly after she finished setting up the surrogacy with Allie.”

Remi groaned. Another dead end, and if they managed to locate the doctor, he had probably been murdered as well.

“We found Lila Montgomery’s phone,” Violet went on. “It was underneath a table at the clinic, and our techs were able to unlock it.”

That sounded promising. “What’d you get off it?” Remi asked.

“Three outgoing calls made around the time of her death,” Violet said. “One to Eloise Davenport. One to Christina Turner. And the third? A number that looks as if it was made to a burner.”

Remi and Brody exchanged a look. That third call could be to the person who orchestrated all of this.

“We’ve tried calling it,” Violet continued. “No answer. But if it’s Tarrant, he might answer if he sees your name on the caller ID, Sheriff.”

Brody didn’t hesitate. “Send me the number.”

Remi’s stomach tightened as Brody’s phone dinged with the incoming message. This was risky. If Tarrant did answer, they had to be ready for whatever came next. Of course, the same was true if anyone picked up.

Violet’s voice remained steady on the line of Remi’s phone. “If and when anyone answers, I’ll try to trace the call,” she said. “Stay on as long as you can.”

Brody didn’t hesitate. He pulled up the burner number on his screen and hit Call. Remi kept her phone close, Violet still listening in. The line rang once. Twice.

On the third ring, someone picked up.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice drawled. “If it isn’t the local yokel cop who wants me dead.”

Remi’s pulse kicked up, and she had to battle the flashbacks. Because she knew that voice. Knew that it belonged to a monster.

Tarrant.

Brody tightened his grip on his phone. “I’m the cop who wants my son. Where the hell is he?”

There was a beat of silence before Tarrant said, “I’ll give you the kid if you and your little PI friend meet me.”

Remi exchanged a glance with Brody. She didn’t believe Tarrant for a second, and judging by the hard set of his jaw, neither did he.

Brody’s voice was ice. “I want proof of life. Prove you have my son, and I’ll meet you.”

Another pause. Then a low, mocking chuckle. “The kid’s sleeping,” Tarrant said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Want me to pinch him and make him cry?”

Brody cursed under his breath, his entire body going rigid. Remi saw his knuckles turning white. She reached over and touched his arm. Just lightly. But it seemed to pull him back, and she wanted him to put a choke hold on the rage building inside him.

“Why would you even have my son?” Brody demanded, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He plowed forward, his voice sharp and unrelenting. “It doesn’t make sense. Someone wants to use my baby to force me to kill you. Head on a silver platter—that’s what your killer wants. That’s the person who has my son. So tell me. Who is it?”

Silence stretched on the other end of the line.

Brody pressed harder. “Because if you tell me, I get my son back and disappear. No more hunting you.”

Remi didn’t believe that for a second. She doubted Brody did either. But Tarrant? He might just be considering it.

She held her breath, listening, waiting. Tarrant was thinking it over. The question was whether he would take the deal. Or was he about to hang up and disappear all over again?