Bucking Bronc Lodge 04(60)

She had been too late for her brother, but she would not be too late for Miles’s son. Or him.

She slid her hands up, cupped his face and forced him to look at her. “Listen to me, Miles. The fact that this woman didn’t see Timmy doesn’t mean he’s not alive.” She made her voice strong. “Do you hear me? Timmy is still out there and we will find him. I do not believe that Dugan hurt him. I just don’t.”

Miles heaved a sigh and searched her face, his expression so tormented that she dragged him into a hug. “Listen to me. We can’t give up. Timmy needs us to be strong and smart about this.”

“You’re right.” A shudder coursed through him, shaking her to the core with its intensity. He took a deep breath, stiffened and turned back to the woman. “I understand you didn’t see the boy, ma’am, but did you see which direction Dugan drove?”

Her wrinkles deepened as she angled her head to the left. “He went south.”

Toward the border, exactly where Jordan and Miles knew he would go.

“Thank you,” Jordan said as she took Miles’s arm and pulled him outside. “Come on, we need to go. You can alert the authorities that Dugan is coming, and maybe they’ll arrest him at the border.”

Miles jerked himself from his fear-induced stupor and nodded, then reached for his phone as they rushed back to his Jeep. He called his lieutenant as he started the engine, then explained where they were.

Jordan fastened her seat belt, well aware of Miles’s terseness as he argued with his superior over what he should do.

“Of course this is personal,” Miles said. “But I’m not turning back. You can have my badge, but I’m going to find Dugan and bring my boy home.”

Jordan looked out the window at the darkening sky and prayed they would find Timmy.

That she hadn’t been wrong about Dugan—that they’d bring Timmy home alive.

* * *

MILES LATCHED ONTO THE HOPE Jordan’s words had offered like a lifeline. She was right. He couldn’t give up.

He couldn’t lose his boy.

Night had set in, the city lights glittering, the evening crowd of tourists and locals making the traffic thick. He cut through the side streets, weaving around slower cars, and blowing past a stalled vehicle.

He would get Timmy back and take him fishing, and buy him that horse that he’d promised him. And they’d get a dog and a ranch and spend hours together working the horses and just...hanging out by the creek.

Yes, he had to have a creek on the property and stables and when Timmy was older they might spring for a four-wheeler.

Sucking in a calming breath, he focused on the road. A minute later, his cell phone rang. He yanked it open, hoping the caller had answers that would lead to his son.

“Miles, it’s Blackpaw. Our computer guys called. You were right. Dugan had some tests run when he got out of prison.”

Miles ground his jaw. He didn’t give a damn. Except for how it might help him find the bastard. “And?”

“He has a brain tumor. Inoperable.”

“So he’s tying up unfinished business before he croaks.” He saw Jordan frown. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Ables wasn’t at his house. Looks like he packed a suitcase, and judging from his computer, he booked a flight to Mexico himself. Airport authorities are waiting to pick him up.”

Stupid son of a bitch probably thought the cops hadn’t made the connection yet. At least Miles hoped that was what he thought.

Then they could catch him and find out exactly how many women he had killed.

And why he’d helped his half brother when nothing in their investigative research had shown that the two of them were close.

Miles’s phone buzzed again. “Let me know when you arrest him,” he said. “I have another call coming in.”

He clicked over to answer the other call. “McGregor.”

“It’s Special Agent Graham Storm,” the man said. “I’m a friend of Mason Blackpaw’s.”

Miles tensed. “Yeah?”

“Robert Dugan just blew through the border. He’s in Mexico.”

Miles pounded his fist on the steering wheel, nearly losing control of the vehicle. Jordan gripped the wheel to right the vehicle and gave him a panicked, questioning look.

“Dammit,” Miles said, gathering his composure. “I think his mother lives there. Her first name is CeeCee. Can you find an address?”

“I’ll get back to you ASAP.”

Sweat beaded on his brow as he ended the call and sped up.

“What was that about?” Jordan asked.

“You were right.” Miles took the road leading out of town, speeding up to pass a truck that was about to pull out in front of him. “Dugan has a brain tumor.”