McCullen's Secret Son. Rita Herron

he was a businessman, that he’d done well for himself.

      So why had someone wanted him dead? And why kidnap Willow’s son?

      “I don’t know what to do,” Willow said “I...can’t leave Leo there. But if I call the sheriff, he’ll send police and crime workers, and I might never see Sam again.”

      Cold fury seized Brett’s insides. What kind of person threatened a small child?

      “How old is Sam?” he asked.

      “Four,” Willow said. “He’s just a little guy, Brett. He has to be terrified.” Her voice cracked again, her terror wrenching Brett’s heart. “And if he saw Leo murdered, then he may be traumatized.”

      He also might be able to identify the killer.

      But Brett bit back that observation because it would only frighten Willow more.

      If her son could identify her husband’s shooter, the killer might not let Sam live anyway, no matter what Willow did.

      Brett tried to strip the worry from his voice. “What does this man want from you, Willow?”

      “I have no idea.” She looked up at him with swollen, tear-stained eyes. “He said to wait for a call.”

      Brett turned away from the sight of the bloody, dead man. “I know you’re scared, but think about it—why would this man take Sam? Did your husband have a lot of money?”

      Willow shook her head back and forth, sending her hair swaying. It was tangled from where she’d run her hands through it, the long strands even more vibrant with streaks of gold and red than he remembered.

      He tried to dismiss memories of running his hands through it, of the way it felt tickling his belly when she’d loved him, but an image teased his mind anyway.

      “Are you sure? Maybe he had some investments? Stocks?”

      “If he had any money, I didn’t know about it,” Willow said. “He didn’t even have a savings or checking account in town. It’s one of the things we argued about.”

      Brett arched a brow. He didn’t have a bank account in town—which meant he was probably hiding one somewhere else? “One of the things?”

      Her face paled. “Yes.” She closed her eyes, a pained sound escaping her. “You might as well know. We weren’t getting along. We hadn’t for a while. Leo moved out three years ago.”

      Brett tried to assimilate that information. “What has he been doing?”

      “I don’t know,” she said in a choked whisper.

      “Was he giving you any money to live on? Helping out with the boy?”

      Willow worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “No. He...didn’t want to be a father to Sam.”

      An odd note crept into her voice.

      “What kind of father doesn’t want to be there for his kid?”

      Willow didn’t respond, making Brett even more curious about her husband and how he’d treated her.

      “Willow, talk to me. What happened between you two? Was he abusing you and Sam?”

      Willow cut her eyes away. “When we met, he was kind, charming. But the last year he’d been drinking too much, and his temper erupted.”

      “And he took it out on you and Sam?”

      Willow shrugged. “At first it was just verbal. But...he hit me once. Then he started in on Sam, and I told him to leave.” A fierce protectiveness strengthened her voice. “I would never let him hurt my son. I asked him for a divorce.”

      “How did he take that?”

      “He was angry, but he left. Frankly...I think he wanted out.”

      “You don’t know what he’s been doing since?”

      “No, I have no idea.”

      He was obviously in trouble.

      Dammit. Even though he and his brother were hardly talking, Brett’s first instinct was to call Maddox.

      But that would endanger Willow’s son.

      Besides, Maddox had always been by the book. He’d want to call in the authorities, issue an Amber Alert, all the things they should be doing.

      But if they did those things, Willow’s little boy could end up dead like his father.

      He couldn’t allow that to happen.

      So he made a snap decision. He’d bury Leo’s body and protect Willow until they found Sam.

       Chapter Four

      Willow couldn’t drag her eyes away from Leo’s dead body. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

      She’d hated that her marriage had fallen apart, but it hadn’t been right from the beginning. She’d never loved Leo and he knew it.

      And truthfully, she didn’t think he’d ever loved her.

      But she’d been hurt with Brett, and lonely and a single pregnant woman with nowhere to turn. Leo had offered her security and comfort.

      For a little while. Then everything had changed and the charming man who’d swept in like a hero had disappeared and become...someone she was afraid of.

      Someone Sam was afraid of.

      That was when she’d known she had to get out.

      The blood on her hands mocked her. She hadn’t loved Leo but she’d never wished him dead.

      And where was her precious little boy? Was he safe? Hurt? Scared?

      A tremor rippled through her. Of course he was scared. He’d been taken from his home.

      “We’ll bury him on the ranch somewhere,” Brett said. “It’s too dangerous to do it in your neighborhood.”

      Willow rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if to warm herself. “But what about Maddox? He’s the sheriff and...your brother.”

      Brett’s look darkened. “I know that,” Brett said. “I’ll talk to him and explain once we get your little boy back.”

      Willow’s heart constricted. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position, Brett. You could get in trouble with the law. But...I didn’t know who else to call.”

      Brett clasped her arms and forced her to look at him. “Don’t worry about me, Willow. I can handle whatever happens. But we can’t go to Maddox yet. We have to play by this bastard’s rules, until we find Sam.”

      How could she argue with that? She’d give her life for her son’s.

      And if Brett knew that Sam was his, he’d do the same.

      He probably would anyway, just because he was a McCullen. Joe McCullen had taught his boys old-fashioned values, that men were supposed to protect women and children.

      Brett moved over by the bed. “I need to get him in the back of my pickup.”

      “Why? Aren’t we going to bury him in the backyard?”

      “No,” Brett said. “You live in a neighborhood. And if anyone comes asking about Leo and is suspicious, this is the first place they’d look.” He glanced down at the floor and indicated the braided rug. “Let’s wrap him in the sheet and I can use the rug to slide him outside.”

      “But what if a neighbor sees us?”

      Brett’s jaw tightened. “Your house is set far enough back from the road, so unless someone is in the drive, we should be all right. But I’ll move my truck up to the garage and we can go