Page 7 of Tango (Hunt Brothers Search & Rescue #4)

Tucker

“ Y ou just let her go ?” Frank demands as he paces my living room. He’s frustrated and rightfully so. He wants answers, and the only one who can give them to us ran off into the night, leaving us with even more questions.

Frank packed up his sister and brought her to Dallas so she wouldn’t be alone. Then he flew back a few hours after I returned to the ranch with Alice’s parents in tow. He’s been here for the last ten minutes while I briefed him on everything that took place back in California.

Alice’s parents are currently settling down in one of our ranch hand cabins where they’ll be safe while we figure this out. Meanwhile, I’ve got to try and track down their daughter…again.

I haven’t told him about my suspicions about his nephew just yet because I’d really like to know the truth before I break his heart. It’s the same kindness I wish had been given to my family back when the government told me that my twin brother was dead.

“I’ll find her again,” I tell him as I withdraw a bottle of water from the fridge. My cell rings, so I reach into my pocket and withdraw it, noting Alaric Simmons’ name on the screen.

“Hunt,” I answer.

“I keep saying this, but it deserves repeating.” He sighs. “I don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, but it’s bad,” he says, tone aggravated.

“What do you mean?”

“FBI just showed up and pulled your guys out of my interrogation room.”

“Seriously? Did you get anything out of them?”

“Nope. Neither one would talk. I did what I could to stall, but they’re gone.”

Frustration tugs at me, worse than usual, given how absolutely exhausted I am. An all-nighter and two different time zones twice in twenty-four hours will do that to a guy. But I can at least say that I held up my end of the bargain. Alice’s parents are safe. “Do you have the names of the agents?”

“Already emailed them over to you, along with the surveillance footage. See what you can pull from it. They wouldn’t give me any information. Just flashed a badge, showed me a letter from someone I can’t argue with, then took the guys into custody.”

I run a hand over my face. “Any idea where they’re going?”

“Not a single clue. But I’d watch your back, Tucker. Whatever this is—it’s big. And Web Safe might just be at the center of it.”

“Thanks, Alaric. I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime.” He ends the call.

I turn to Frank. “Guys we apprehended have been pulled out by FBI agents.”

“Names of the agents?” Frank asks, going from frustrated to business mode. It’s a coping mechanism, something I and each of my brothers do too. Distance ourselves from the emotion of it, and focus on the actions we need to take.

After opening up my email, I copy the names of the agents and send them to Frank via text. His phone dings.

“I’ll find out what I can about them.” He fires off a message then raises his gaze to me. “Do you really think you can find her again?”

“I know I can. Besides, we have her parents at the ranch. And after what I saw last night, she’s not letting them get far for long. I’d be willing to bet she’ll make her way here sooner rather than later.”

Frank nods. “Any news on Ramiro?”

I sigh. While I don’t want to outright tell him, I also don’t want to keep secrets. “I don’t know yet.”

“But you have suspicions.” Frank crosses his arms. “Tell me, Tucker.”

I hesitate. Do I tell him? Do I break his heart before I know it’s true?

“Tucker.”

This isn’t anyone —it’s Frank. So I take a deep breath and prepare to deliver a knee-dropping blow. “Something those bruisers said to Alice last night makes me believe that Ramiro is—” I trail off.

“Dead,” he finishes, expression hard. “I had a feeling—” He shakes his head. “Ramiro wouldn’t have just no-showed his mom. That’s just not him. No matter what was going on in his life, he was there.” He lifts his gaze to me. “You think he’s dead, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“A man attacked Alice outside of a bus stop. She defended herself, and he died after falling backward onto a piece of rebar. When the men brought it up and she told them it was self-defense, they asked her if the Ramiro kid was self-defense too.”

Frank’s expression goes from distraught to downright furious in less than a heartbeat. “She killed him? And you let her go? ”

“No. She didn’t kill him, Frank. My gut says that there’s more to this than meets the eye, and it’s too soon for us to start drawing conclusions.

They could have just as easily been taunting her, and she could very well not know whether Ramiro is alive or dead.

” Though my instinct is that he is dead and that Alice Sterling is not the murderer.

I know killers, far better than I wish I did, and Alice is no killer.

Those men last night? They were killers. Which means whoever hired them is more than likely the same one behind Ramiro’s death.

My phone dings, and I check my texts.

Dad: Fred and Jemma just got here for coffee.

Me: Great. Thanks.

I shove my cell back into my pocket. “If you think you can keep your head, Alice’s parents are awake.

They’re staying in one of the ranch hand cabins and just showed up at my parents’ for coffee.

They’ve been through a lot though, and I want to make sure we don’t push too hard right away, no matter how badly we want answers. ”

“I can keep my head,” he replies. “I just need something to tell Darlene.” Frank pinches the bridge of his nose. “And it can’t be that her son is dead. Not until we know for sure.”

I clasp a hand on his shoulder and squeeze gently, hoping it will offer him even the slightest comfort.

“Then let’s go see if we can find some answers.

Hier , Tango,” I say as I release Frank and pat my hand against my thigh.

Tango jumps up from his bed, tail wagging, and heads for the door.

I grab the bottle of water I’ve been nursing for the last few hours, pull open the door, and step out into the near-stifling August afternoon.

Frank gets into his truck while I opt for my utility vehicle to make the short drive to my parents’ ranch house, all while mentally combing through every moment of last night—from witnessing the most beautiful pair of haunted eyes I’ve ever seen staring up at me to watching her disappear into the night with only a backpack before the police arrived.

Is she alive now?

Has Web Safe found her again?

Alice Sterling haunted what little sleep I tried to get once I settled her parents into the cabin. After it became clear I wasn’t going to get any rest, I gave up on sleep and spent the rest of the hours before dawn researching everything there is to know about her.

After her parents died when she was young and her grandparents refused to take her in, she was put into the system. Which is where she was—in and out of foster homes—until the Sterlings took her in at thirteen.

She graduated high school at the top of her class and was even voted valedictorian, despite her rocky start.

Then she excelled during her first four years of college before obtaining a degree in cybersecurity.

After that, she landed her job at Web Safe, where she quickly gained a reputation for being the best at determining where there’s a hole and plugging it.

I’ll be honest, I half fell in love with her just from the credentials in her file. Of course, it’s not actual love—just fascination—which is what I had to remind myself nearly every time she popped into my head last night.

It did get me thinking though—what if she found a hole someone didn’t want found? Did she bring her friend into it for help? Is that why Ramiro was killed? Why she believes Web Safe is after her?

I park my UTV in front of my parents’ house then climb out and head up the porch steps, Tango right behind me.

Frank remains in his truck, his phone pressed up to his ear.

When I pause in front of his truck to wait for him, he offers me a wave, letting me know I should head on inside.

Which is probably a good thing. It’ll give me time to talk to the Sterlings without him present.

The moment I push open the door, the scent of my mother’s homemade apple pie hits me square in the chest. I breathe it in, a smile spreading across my face. It doesn’t matter how stressed I am or what I’m facing, that smell will always ground me.

“I smell something delicious,” I call out as I step into the kitchen. Tango happily trots alongside me, though the moment he sees my mom, he abandons me to do circles at her feet.

She smiles at me. “Apple pie, baby. Hey there, sweet boy.” She pats Tango on the head.

After kissing her cheek, I take a seat at the dining room table where Fred and Jemma are both sitting, cups of coffee in their hands. Fred’s face is battered and bruised, the cut over his lip having crusted over.

Jemma’s cheekbone is bruised, her eye black, and her own split lip crusted over. My hand clenches into a fist in my lap even as I know the danger has passed—for now.

The fact that they’d put their hands on her at all… What if it were my mother who— nope. Bury that one. “How are you both feeling?” I ask, hoping to steer my thoughts in a different, less dark direction.

“Sore,” Fred admits. “And worried about Alice. Has there been any word from her?”

I shake my head. “I’ll find her though.”

“You have to find her before they do,” Jemma insists. “They’re going to kill her.” Her eyes fill, and Fred wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile, which then turns to a very real, grateful smile when my mom sets a mug of coffee down in front of me. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, honey.” She ruffles my dark hair just like she did when I was young before heading back over toward the stove.

“Can you tell me what happened last night?” I sit up just enough to retrieve the small notepad tucked into my back pocket then pull a pen from my front pocket. After flipping to a blank page, I look up at them expectantly.

They exchange glances.

“If you don’t tell me the truth, my likelihood of success is much lower than it could be. I need you to be completely honest with me. Even if it looks bad.”

Fred nods. “We heard someone come in the back door and thought it was an intruder, so I came down the steps and found Alice standing in the hall, looking terrified and hurt. I was furious. My baby girl—someone hurt her.”

“She’d been shot,” Jemma says. “That’s the injury on her arm. I didn’t get a chance to see what it needed or pull out the glass shards embedded in the injury.”

“So she’ll need medical attention.” I make a note on my notepad. “Go on.”

“We asked her what happened, and she told us that she killed someone. Alice is the most gentle person I’ve ever known.”

“Was she always?” I question.

Jemma’s gaze narrows on me, and I can see the anger at my perceived insinuation. “Alice ran away from nearly every foster home she was in because they made her feel unwelcome. She was lonely, troubled, and maybe a little angry, but she was never violent.”

“I didn’t mean to offend, but if I have a clear picture of who I’m looking for, it makes it that much easier to find them.”

“She was always an openhearted person. And only got more so once she found her faith.”

“She’s religious?”

Jemma nods. “She follows God. Actually, she’s the one who got us to step further into our faith.” She sniffles and grips Fred’s hand with hers. “We never missed a Sunday after she moved in with us.”

They speak about her with so much love; you’d never know she was adopted. Much in the same way our parents talk about Lani. She’s family—blood or not—and the time apart was merely a prologue to a wonderful story once she became part of it.

“What happened after she told you she killed someone?” I ask. “That had to shock you. How did she act about it?”

“Of course we were shocked. But we never—even for a minute—thought she did it on purpose,” Jemma says.

Fred continues, “She wouldn’t let us call the police. Said it would put her in more danger. Then she told us that—” The front door opens, and Frank walks in.

Here we go. This is either going to go well or horribly sideways. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, this is Frank Loyotta. He’s Ramiro Caine’s uncle.”

Jemma is the first to stand. She rushes over and wraps her arms around Frank in a move that clearly surprises him. “I am so sorry, Frank. You have to know we adored Ramiro as though he were a member of our family. He was such a good friend to Alice.”

She pulls away, and I can tell that Frank is barely keeping it together. His bottom lip quivers with the weight of his pain.

“You believe he’s dead too, then?” he asks.

Jemma looks back at her husband, almost as though she’s trying to decide if she should answer. “Alice said they killed him before they tried to kill her too.”

“Who killed him?” Frank demands.

“She didn’t say. She told us that she’s in trouble and that they killed Ramiro.” She wraps her arms around herself, and her husband stands to pull her in. “Why did she run off? We should have stopped her.”

“If you had, it’s possible she’d be in a cell right now, which would make her even more of a target.” I turn to Frank. “Alice seems to think someone at Web Safe is behind this.”

His face reddens. “Why?”

“She said that, if she got caught, she’d get tossed in a cell where Web Safe will find her. She seemed pretty scared.”

Frank considers that. “I don’t have any contacts over there—aside from Ramiro—but I can ask around. See what I can find out.”

“Just be careful,” I tell him. “If they are behind it, and they get the sense you’re looking for information, you could become a target.”

“I dare them to come after me.” He growls then shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to invite trouble. I’m just so—I’m so angry. He deserved better, you know?”

My mom crosses over and wraps her arm around him. “The boys will find answers,” she tells him. “And they’ll make sure justice is served.”

He nods, tears shining in his eyes. It breaks my heart that he’s the one now living a nightmare when he works so hard to do good. It’s evidence that, oftentimes, bad things happen to good people, and while we may not understand why, God always has a plan.

Even when it’s impossible to see.

I just hope I can bring him and his family at least a little closure once I’ve gotten to the bottom of things.