Page 57 of PenPal Hero

Apparently, he’d already served his purpose.

Jude Westfield was the only person with a theory why. “He was nothing more than a patsy they threw in Holt’s path,” he scoffed during a debriefing meeting that evening in the sheriff’s office. “A pawn to help facilitate another one of their mind games. A game that’s played out, in Jett’s case. Holt is moving on to serve a different purpose in their scheme. A bigger purpose.” He studied Holt dispassionately.

Holt could practically hear the wheels of his genius mind spinning. “Want to venture a guess what their next move might be?”

“Whatever it is, you’re the key.” Jude gestured at him. “If only we could reverse engineer you.”

“You mean deprogram me?” It made an odd sort of sense to Holt.

“Exactly.” Jude continued to study him. “I really do think it’s possible.”

“How?” Holt was willing to try anything at this point, as long as it led to getting Bonnie back in his life.

“Question everything.” Jude laid out his plan. “Don’t trust what you see or hear. Don’t trust your feelings. Get confirmation from a trusted third party that what you’re seeing and hearing is accurate before taking action. In time, you’ll retrain your mind to see beyond what you’ve been triggered to see, ultimately breaking its hold on you.”

“I can do that.” Holt jutted his chin in determination.

“Not alone, you can’t.” Jude shook his head. “That trusted third party I mentioned wasn’t optional.”

“You think I need a babysitter, eh?” Maybe it was time to finally start interviewing for extra help at the shop. Even without Jett Briggs’ stolen cars, Holt was bringing in enough business these days to justify hiring another mechanic.

“You should talk to Burke Yates,” the sheriff suggested. “The Yates family has plenty of skin in the game. Plus, I hear he’s pretty handy when it comes to fixing tractors and other machinery around the ranch.”

Holt nodded slowly. “Transferrable skills.” It wasn’t the skill set he’d planned on advertising for, but anyone handy with that sort of machinery could be cross-trained on auto detail work. It was worth a try, at any rate.

“Exactly.” The sheriff looked pleased that he was actually considering it. “I’ll text you his number.”

“Thanks. In the meantime, our best link to the folks we’re hunting down is the burned down warehouse property.” Making a mental note to call Burke before the day’s end, Holt moved on to the next topic. “Since it was recently purchased, there’s gotta be a money trail that leads somewhere.”

“Not as easy to find as you might think.” The sheriff pointed at Jude. “He’s currently running down that rabbit hole for us. We’re talking overseas shell accounts, scads of tiny money transfers all over the place, and so on. It’s a mess to sort through.”

“Any chance you can get me on site at the warehouse to take a look at the burn damage?” Holt wasn’t sure why, but his gut was telling him that the warehouse was the key to putting names and faces to the goons behind this mind control garbage.

“Sure.” The sheriff looked surprised. “Anything in particular you’re looking for in the rubble?”

“Nope.” Holt planned to figure that out after he got there. “Mind if I invite Burke to join me?”

The sheriff looked amused. “Knock yourself out.”

The next morning

Holt swung out of his pickup truck and hit the ground with both feet, slamming the door shut behind him.

His new assistant mechanic and partner in crime, Burke Yates climbed out of the passenger side and joined him in front of the locked gates standing between them and the ashy remains of the burned out warehouse.

He slung his thumbs through his belt loops. “What are we looking for?” Though he was two years younger than Jackson, he closely resembled his oldest brother — tall and rangy with the same wavy hair, dusty jeans, and well-worn boots. His face was more angular, the lines of his jaw more pronounced, but that was the only difference Holt could see. The two men could otherwise pass for twins.

“Anything that leads to the identities or whereabouts of the criminals who kidnapped your sister.” Both times, if Holt’s current theory was correct. Real Sons might be defunct, but they were still associated somehow with the mind control freaks. “We’re going to comb through this property one sooty board at a time. All I need you to do is verify that I’m actually seeing what I think I’m seeing.” He grimaced. “My mind might be playing tricks on me, but yours isn’t.”

“Fair enough.” Burke shoved his hands in his pockets and waited while Holt unlocked the gates with the key the sheriff had lent him.

“Wasn’t sure you’d accept my invitation.” Holt jimmied with the lock. The keyhole was half-caked with dust and dirt, but he finally got the gate open. “Once folks find out about my past, they tend to view me as a gun half cocked, ready to go off at any second.”

“The only thing that matters to my family is that you want Bonnie back as much as we do.” Burke’s tone and expression were deadly serious.

Yes, I do! It was nice to be treated like a normal person instead of a freak. “I’m in love with her.” He shot Burke an assessing look as he swung the gate open.

Burke didn’t look surprised. “Already figured that out for myself, bro.”

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