CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

GARYS KNEE WAS firmly atop Brian Blackgoat’s chest. The man wasn’t moving. Easing up his weight, Gary flipped Brian onto his back so that Leann could take it from there. She did so, quickly, stating the Miranda and telling him to get to his feet.

Again, Gary was taken aback with Leann’s efficiency and directness. She’d been calm in a tense situation. He’d seen less from some stronger types while serving. “You don’t have to take him right to the station,” Russell spoke up. “You can do your questioning here.”

“Probably not a good idea.” Leann’s response was quick.

“Well,” Russell said, matter-of-factly, “he didn’t make so much as a sound when Gary here took him down.”

“This needs to be done right.” Leann reached down and, with little effort, got Brian to his feet.

“I can help,” Gary offered.

“You’re not a cop.”

“I absolutely am a cop.”

“Was.”

“Once a cop, always a cop.”

Leann merely gave him a look.

“I’m right here,” Brian said. “You’re talking like I can’t hear you.”

Leann shook her head, ignoring Brian’s comment and addressing Gary instead. “I can handle this.”

Finally, she looked at Brian, and Gary knew what she was thinking. If Brian had any sense of family, even a tiny thread, Russell would get through to him, but she wanted this to happen by the book at the station.

Leann looked from Brian to Russell, right versus reality showing on her face. She knew as well as Gary did that they were more likely to get answers here, rather than in a formal interrogation room.

“He’s nearing eighty,” Leann said, indicating Russell. “You upset him and you’ll answer to me.”

Brian didn’t say anything.

She urged him toward the living room. He took two steps and stopped. Russell was in his way, but rather than moving aside, the older man enveloped Brian in his arms, not letting go.

Gary put out an arm, stopping Leann from separating them. He knew physical contact was against the rules, knew that Brian had already gotten away once and could see the benefit of him using Russell as a possible human shield in order to escape. But, there was something about the look in Brian’s eyes that said it would be all right. Brian just stood there and let Russell hug him, not returning any affection. Finally, he said, “It’s all right, old man.”

“Please, let’s go in the living room.” Leann looked a little pale. She took Brian by the arm, led him to a chair. She settled on the end table right next to him. Russell slowly walked to the couch and sat. No one spoke for a moment. Then, to Gary’s surprise, Brian cleared his throat and spoke to Russell. “I should have knocked on your door and introduced myself.”

Russell nodded.

Gary would have loved to start asking questions, but Leann began with, “What is your relationship to Russell?”

Brian directed his answer to Russell, not Leann. “Unless I’m mistaken, you’re my grandfather.”

“How?” Russell’s voice wobbled. His hands were clasped and turning red. Gary reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

“I only have part of the story. It’s what got me here.”

“What’s your mother’s name?” Leann asked.

“Angela. Angela Blackgoat.”

Russell’s hand went to his mouth.

“And your father?” Leann queried.

“I never met the man, but Angela told me his name was Roberto Guzman.”

* * *

IF LEANN HADNT been sitting, she’d probably have toppled to the floor. As it was, she didn’t have time to topple anywhere. She stood just as Gary growled, “Liar!”

Brian shook his head and gave Gary a look that would have stilled a lesser man.

“Truth isn’t always a friend, is it?” Brian said. “I know who you are. I’ve seen you working on the property. It’s part mine, you know.”

Leann pointed at Gary. “You either sit or I’ll put handcuffs on you,” she threatened.

“What charge?” he barked. His cheeks had gone a faint flush color, and Leann knew she had to remain in control.

“Interfering with a police investigation,” she barked back.

“Calm down, Gary,” Russell said softly.

It annoyed Leann a bit that Gary obeyed Russell’s order without questioning it. She hadn’t guessed that Brian wasn’t just Russell’s grandson, he was Gary’s half brother.

Leann grappled with this twist in events. It was one thing to catch up to a person wanted for questioning in a serious crime. It was another for Gary to find out he had a new sibling. Once again sitting on the end table, she asked, “Would you know if he’s still alive?”

“Who?” Brian asked.

Gary’s mouth snapped open and then closed.

“Roberto Guzman.” She couldn’t stop her stomach from fluttering.

“I told you I’ve never met the guy.” Anger laced Brian’s words. “And why do you care?”

Russell, ever stoic, repeated Leann’s question.

Brian sat back. He kicked his feet out in front of him. His well-worn boots showed mud and the beginning of a hole where the left big toe was.

Russell stared, his lips compressed, and his eyes grew stern. “I knew Berto, you know. He lived on the next property. I knew him from snotty-nosed kid to manhood. I believe Officer Bailey asked you a question. I’d appreciate you answering her.”

“I’ve changed my mind about answering questions. I think I want a lawyer. I have the right to one.”

“At the moment, we’re not talking about any crime. We are trying to ascertain if you’re related to Russell Blackgoat. This is a courtesy.” Leann had already compromised, and it had been a mistake. She stood and reached for Brian’s arm. “My cruiser’s right outside. We can end this now. Thank you for your cooperation this far. We will—”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t answer,” Brian retorted. “I just, er… What do I get in return?”

“Nothing,” Leann said. “You are currently under investigation for theft and hit-and-run and—”

“I get it.” Brian struggled a moment and then looked at Russell, and said, “Old man, where were you all those years ago when I needed you?”

Russell leaned forward. “If I’d known you existed, I would have moved hell and high water to come find you. Why didn’t Angela bring you to Sarasota Falls when she returned home?”

“Dunno. She left me with the babysitter when she went to the hospital to have Lydia. Never came back.”

“Then how do you know you have a sister named Lydia?” Leann was quick to ask.

Brian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Something else simmered there; not emptiness or hate but despair. “That’s something you’re going to have to find out.”

“She left you with a babysitter?” Russell queried. “Is that who raised you?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t make any sense,” Gary joined the conversation. “What kind of babysitter keeps someone else’s kid and doesn’t try to find the parents or relatives or—”

“The kind that receives money every month, good money, at least until I turned eighteen. I just assumed it came from Berto Guzman, my father. Then, the money stopped.”

Gary grimaced.

Russell cleared his throat. “So, my daughter raised you until you were…?”

“Five.”

“Who told you Berto was your father?” Leann queried.

“My mother and then Willow, the woman who gave me a place to stay until I turned eighteen.”

Leann noted that Brian didn’t say “raised me” or “cared for me” or “gave me a home.”

“I am saddened by my daughter’s behavior,” Russell said.

Leann nodded and struggled to keep professional. No mother, father, should ever desert a child. Even her husband had remained a presence in her boys’ life, albeit long-distance.

It made her question her attitude toward Ryan. She should be more welcoming to him; he was going to be a bigger part of her boys’ lives. She was scared. There were so many what-ifs and he could hurt her boys, get their hopes up and then let them down. She wanted to trust Ryan, trust any man for that matter. Trust Gary Guzman, who kept exceeding her expectations.

Looking across the room, she noted the vulnerability in his eyes. Oh, yes, he could identify with Brian. Feeling abandoned by a parent no matter the circumstances was a strong bond.

She tamped down her emotions and asked, “Why do you think your mother left you and didn’t come back?”

“Her new boyfriend didn’t want to raise someone else’s kid. He was a B actor who had plenty of money and promised my mom help getting her acting parts and a big house. She made a choice.”

“You remember a lot for only being five at the time,” Leann observed.

“Sometimes Willow told me things. When I got older, I found more on the internet.”

Leann figured one of the things Brian discovered was Jace’s existence, most especially their likeness.

“Did you ever see a check with the name Roberto Guzman?” Gary asked.

Brian shook his head.

There was a lull in the conversation as all three men stared at each other. Gary was simmering, Brian angry, Russell contemplative. One thing was for sure: Leann would find Willow and track down whoever had sent the money for Brian. She seriously doubted it was Berto Guzman. Something just wasn’t adding up.

Berto had fathered four children with Gary’s mother and disappeared, what, more than a decade later? Leann couldn’t wrap her mind around the logistics.

Why would he faithfully send money to one child but not continue to look after his other four? The ones he’d fathered with his wife? The ones he’d actually known?

Leann needed to step back, regroup and fit the puzzle pieces together. Switching to a different thread, she asked, “Did you burglarize Russell’s cabin?”

Russell stopped staring at his hands and looked up.

Brian hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes, I needed the money. We, er, I was hungry.”

“How did you know where the money was hidden?”

“My mother only left a few things behind. A couple of books, some clothes and a photograph of you, old man.”

Not much, Leann thought, trying to figure out the mind-set of a woman who could walk away from her child. Brian had been five. Five! Both Leann’s boys had cemented a place in her heart mere seconds after their birth, making them hers for life.

“Still need to answer the question,” Russell urged.

“One of the books was full of drawings.”

“Angela was an artist,” Russell acknowledged, pointing to a drawing above his head.

Brian nodded. “She had one like it in her book, smaller, of course. She drew everything about your place. I know exactly what her childhood bedroom looked like. I know what my father looks like. I know you have a sweet Ford truck older than dirt.”

Russell nodded.

“She drew the fireplace. She even numbered the brick where the money was hidden and drew a dollar sign next to it. It was a long shot, but I was willing to take the risk.”

“Is that what brought you to Sarasota Falls? The money?” Leann asked.

“Yes, but I thought there’d be more than a hundred dollars.”

“Why didn’t you just knock on the door and tell me who you were and what you needed?” Russell asked incredulously.

“Right, you’d have been welcoming.”

“I would have, yes.”

Brian gave a tight laugh. “You know, I considered it. Angela did have good stories about her growing-up years. I thought I’d stay in the old cabin—”

“Mine,” Gary said coldly.

“—take a few days to figure out what was going on but…”

“But?” Leann urged.

This time, Brian’s words were cold. “He was there, along with Russell. Once I figured out he was a Guzman, I knew we wouldn’t find any open arms.”

“Yes, you would have.” Russell’s voice broke. “You’re Angela’s son. That makes you my grandson.”

Leann thought of the small cemetery, of Angela’s grave, how tenderly Russell took care of all of the graves.

Brian’s expression changed. Leann quickly asked, “Why did you stay? Why not leave Sarasota Falls?”

“Because you picked up Trudy.”

A puzzle piece snapped into place. Leann couldn’t believe it. “Trudy Gilmore?”

Brian nodded again.

“You stuck around because of Trudy Gilmore? What is she to you? You do know she’s in the hospital? The same hospital where you put the chief of police?”

She wanted to trigger a response from Brian. She hoped he’d say, “I didn’t hit him that hard.” Or, “It wasn’t me.” Brian, however, didn’t say a word, just looked at her like it didn’t matter.

Russell stood, came across the room and patted Brian on the shoulder. “I came to town this morning to get my boy a lawyer. I still intend to do that.”

“This isn’t Jace—” Leann protested.

“No, it isn’t. It’s Brian. And, if he’s Angela’s son, then he’s just as much my boy as Jace.”

“You’re hiring me a lawyer?” Brian said, incredulous.

“I am.” Russell checked his watch. “Lydia’s flight arrives in just over an hour. Even if I—”

“We,” Gary interjected.

“—leave now, I’ll be late picking her up.” He moved toward the door. “Officer Bailey, do you need help escorting Brian to your cruiser?”

“No,” Leann and Brian said at exactly the same time.

“Then, it’s best you go with her, Brian. I’ll be by to see you either tonight or in the morning, depending on what I can get done.”

Brian’s whole demeanor changed. Before Leann could begin to guess why, Brian provided the reason. “Sir, instead of helping me, would you help Trudy first?”

“No,” Leann protested. “We’re trying to contact her mother—”

“Who will not come to get her.” Brian shot Leann a hard look, which softened when he added, “This is the only place I knew to come. We arrived with no money, slept in the park once we realized he—” a cold look at Gary “—was staying at the cabin. Trudy needs a place to stay so she can get her health back and until we know what’s going to happen to me.”

“Because you were driving the truck that hit the chief of police?”

Brian affirmed, “Because I was driving the truck that hit the chief of police. It was an accident. At the hospital, I’d tried to get in to see Trudy, you see. I couldn’t even get close. I was mad, trying to decide what to do. I got scared someone would start asking me questions. I was hell bent on getting out of town. I looked down for a second and then wham. I’m more sorry than you know.”

“Why didn’t you just stop?” Leann asked. “All you’re dealing with is a shoplifting charge. Russell isn’t worried about the hundred dollars.”

Brian’s lips pursed and Leann thought he’d clam up again. But then, he said, “There’s also the fact that I’ve stolen someone else’s identity. It’ll send me to jail and Trudy needs me.”

“What do I need to do?” Russell asked. “How can I help?”

“Just take care of her until I get out of jail. She’s—she’s fragile.”

Leann let go a long, pent-up breath. Never, in all her years of police work, had a case been so emotionally complicated.

Really, Roberto Guzman was Brian’s father!

Now, instead of feeling like she’d had any control of the situation, Brian complicated the situation even more.

Redheaded, olive-skinned and short, Trudy Gilmore looked nothing like Brian or Russell. Not to mention the girl was barely out of her teens and Brian was in his early forties. They weren’t exactly the likeliest of traveling partners.

“Who is she really?” Leann asked.

Brian directed his response to Russell.

“She would be your great-granddaughter, sir. My daughter.”