Page 41 of Ransom for His Secret Son

There was a pause, then a quick inhale. “Yes. I—I saw the news reports.”

Brody’s jaw clenched. And he groaned. He didn’t have time for a hoax. “If this is about some theory or—”

“I think I was the surrogate,” she interrupted, her voice breaking slightly. “For your twins.”

Brody’s pulse stalled, then hammered hard. Remi sat up straighter beside him, her eyes going wide.

He forced himself to speak. “What did you just say?”

Allie cleared her throat and followed it with a soft moan. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know who the parents were. But after seeing the news, the timeline—everything—I think I carried your sons.” Another pause, before she added, “And I think I might be able to help you find your missing baby.”

Chapter Twelve

Remi sat in the passenger seat of the cruiser, her fingers tapping away on her phone as she pulled up every record she could find on Allie Harper.

“Anything?” Brody asked as he drove toward Bulverde and the address that Allie had given them.

There was an urgency in his voice. One that Remi totally understood. This could be the lead they desperately needed.

“Some,” Remi said, and she relayed what she had. “She’s twenty-two. No criminal record. Parents both deceased. She grew up in foster care. Until about nine months ago, she was a student at the University of Texas, studying psychology. Then nothing. No job records, no rental history, no activity on any official documents. She just dropped off the map.”

Which, of course, fit if she’d truly been a surrogate impregnated with a stolen embryo. She wouldn’t have wanted to be on the grid so that someone could track her down.

Other things didn’t fit, though. Like why was she stepping forward now? That was a huge question weighing Remi down, and it meant she and Brody had to consider this was a ruse. Something meant to lure them into an attack.

That was the reason they’d taken precautions. They were both wearing Kevlar vests, and two of Brody’s deputies, Harlan and Jolene, were following them in a second cruiser. If they needed backup, they’d have it, but just in case Allie was the real deal, Harlan and Jolene would remain out of sight so they wouldn’t spook the woman.

Following the GPS, Brody took several turns, not into the town of Bulverde but to the far outskirts of it to a trailer park. It was tucked away behind a row of tall oak trees, the gravel road uneven beneath the cruiser’s tires as Brody pulled up to the lot number Allie had given them. The place was quiet, the kind of temporary site that people passed through rather than settled in.

Brody shut off the engine, and Remi scanned the area. Nothing immediately stood out. No obvious threats, no cars idling nearby. Just a handful of other trailers, most with drawn curtains and signs of people who had either already left for work or weren’t interested in being seen.

They stepped out of the cruiser and walked up the short metal steps to the trailer’s narrow front door. Brody knocked, and a deep, throaty bark erupted from inside. Remi instinctively took a step back, her pulse kicking up at the sheer size of whatever dog was behind that door. Something big, protective and not the least bit friendly.

Remi heard some movement inside before a shadow passed behind the window’s thin curtain. A moment later, the curtain eased back just enough for a set of wary eyes to look out at them. She recognized the woman from her DMV photo: Allie Harper.

Allie’s gaze darted between them before landing on Brody. “Badge,” she called through the window.

Brody exchanged a glance with Remi before pulling his badge and holding it up. “Sheriff Brody Walker, Lost Canyon PD.”

Allie squinted at it like she was making sure it wasn’t fake, then hesitated. “And her?” She jerked her chin toward Remi.

Remi pulled out her PI license and held it up. “Remi Cross. I’m working with him.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door unlatched with a metallic click. “Come in,” Allie said. “But make it quick.”

She yanked back the door, her free hand still locked around the dog’s thick leather collar. It was a German shepherd, and clearly the canine wasn’t any more at ease than his master. Allie wasn’t just scared, she was terrified.

The inside of the trailer was as cramped as expected. The small living space held a worn couch covered by a faded quilt, a tiny table shoved against the wall, and a compact kitchen with barely enough counter space to hold a coffeemaker and a couple of mismatched mugs. It smelled like coffee and the dog.

Allie locked the door behind them, her movements quick, practiced. Then she pulled back the curtain just enough to scan the outside before letting it drop again. The way she kept her back to the door, the way her fingers twitched against the dog’s collar told Remi just how on edge she really was.

Brody stayed near the entrance, arms crossed, his stance solid but not threatening.

“You said you could help find my son,” he said.

Allie finally turned to face them. “I can give you some details, and maybe you can use it to locate him.” She paused. “Ten months ago, I was approached by a woman named Shelby Connelly. If you can find out who she is, she might lead you to your son.”

Remi didn’t recognize the name, but she mentally filed it away. “How did she approach you and why?”