Page 59

Epilogue

Two years later…

Reagan ended the call, but she didn’t move from her desk chair. She stared at her laptop screen, the words in front of her blurring as her mind reeled with the intel she’d received.

“Ray? What’s wrong?”

English Barlowe had heard the phone ring but waited until she hung up before appearing by her desk.

“I need all of the Legends for this one.” Her tone was low, but it was enough to communicate the seriousness of the case they’d been hired for.

“Good thing they’re all here then. I’ll man the bar while I send them up.”

“Thanks, English.”

The man shuffled out of the room, his step having become heavier with the passing of each year. Reagan stood, her hands going to the small of her back. She stretched backward to work the kinks from her back, and doing so made her already protruding belly stick out even more. Most women despaired at how their fully pregnant body resembled a beached whale. Reagan didn’t mind. As uncomfortable as she felt, there was something about seeing the roundness of her baby taking up space in her belly that gave her peace.

She waddled over to the couch in English’s small apartment over the Fire Bar and Grille. Easing herself down, her body sank into the cushions, molding to her body in the way a well-worn couch would. It was comfortable, but she knew to only sit on it when she had someone around to help her up.

She wasn’t alone for long. The thunder of boots on the stairs leading to the apartment had her smiling long before the boys crowded into the room. One by one, their overpowering presence filled the space, but Reagan never minded the feeling of family stealing over her when they were all together.

She glanced at them one by one as they settled around her. Easton winked at her in a charming way that was uniquely his. She rolled her eyes, as she usually did, and he grinned. The boy was too appealing for his own good, but he had quickly become one of her best friends. He knew how to make her smile when she’d had a rough day or make her laugh when she needed it. As a bartender, he was a good listener, and she often confided him in.

She caught Ben eyeing her pregnant belly and smiled. The quiet one of the bunch, he was also the biggest worrier. He would bluster if anyone told him he cared too much, but it was true. He was a man who wore his heart on his sleeve but projected a touch façade to protect him and his heart. She’d coined the nickname Bear for him, and despite his protests, she suspected he secretly loved it.

Luke’s expression was solemn as he waited for her to say why she’d called them upstairs. It had taken a long time for the two of them to move past the rocky start to their relationship. She couldn’t pinpoint the moment it changed for them. They went from adversaries to brother and sister, teasing and fighting and cutting up with each other. The writer in her decided Luke didn’t give his trust away to just anyone. They had to earn it, and even then, he went the extra mile to make sure he was safe from being hurt before he would allow anyone into his inner circle. They had that in common, though she had changed within the last two years to be more open and trusting.

Her eyes landed on her husband, and her heart swelled in her chest. Jackson had immediately stepped to her side, and his hand rested at its customary spot at the top of her belly. It was a habit beginning after the moment she told him she was pregnant. She was convinced his touch held mystical powers. Not only could he turn her to mush with a caress of his finger, he could calm the kicking baby in her stomach by laying a hand against it.

“What’s up, Ray?”

“It’s all hands on deck for this one.”

Over the two years she and Jackson had been together, their lives intertwined together almost without them realizing it. The boys each had their own responsibilities with the family businesses, but their reputation as Legends earned them more and more cases. Somewhere along the way, Reagan started managing the calls that came for them, dispatching the boys on cases that best suited their individual skill set. The arrangement worked so well, she continued filling the role after she and Jackson married.

English was only too happy to hand that portion of the family legacy off to his daughter. In fact, he seemed to be stepping back more and more from work, and while Reagan was glad to see him taking time for himself, she worried about his state of mind. He’d always been one to stay busy, to be at the forefront of the action. She couldn’t get a handle on how he was faring since he was more of a man of leisure than work.

Reagan brought her wayward thoughts back to the task at hand. “We got a call from a private detective in Laramie, Wyoming. He was hired for a missing person case that has escalated into something more than he can handle. The case started with a search for a runaway teen, Missy Longshore. She lost her parents and had been living with her grandparents. They’re the ones who hired the PI. Only the PI doesn’t believe Missy is a runaway. His investigation led him to connect Missy’s case with similar ones in Cheyenne, Longmont, and as far as Jackson, Wyoming. He’s gone to the police with his theories, but they can’t do much because of a lack of evidence.”

“Who’s the PI?”

“He said he was a friend of English’s. Burke Cason. I didn’t ask English about him before I sent him to get you guys. From the way Mr. Cason presented this to me, you guys are needed right away.”

“Does he think they’re cases of human trafficking?” Ben asked.

Reagan shrugged. “He’s afraid to speculate. All he knows is he’s stepped into some crazy shit, and he doesn’t want to move forward without help. Those are his words by the way. I told him I would check into flights, and he said not to worry. If we can get you to the airport in Birmingham, he’ll have a plane waiting for you. Evidently, Missy’s grandfather has a lot of money and influence.”

“I’ll drive you to the airport,” Jackson said. “While you’re in the air, we’ll coordinate with Cason to make sure you have accommodations and vehicles reserved. English can watch the bar while we’re gone.”

“Wait.” Reagan shifted in her seat to stare into Jackson’s face. “You’re not going too?”

He shook his head. “Not when you’re this far in your pregnancy. What if the little guy decides to come before your due date? I may not be able to get back in time.”

Reagan let his remark about the “little guy” slide this time. The baby had not cooperated with them during their sonograms, so they had no idea what the gender was. Though it didn’t matter which sex the baby turned out to be, they all had their own guesses. Reagan hoped for a girl, so she wouldn’t feel outnumbered in her family of primarily males.

“Jackson, this is a missing girl. Maybe more than one. You can’t stay behind when these families need all of you. I won’t be alone. Mom and Dad are coming for a visit, and English is here. I’ll be fine.”

Her relationship with English was still shaky at times, but the two of them had come a long way. He would never fill the role of father for her, but she believed they could be friends. They were moving beyond the hurts of the past, but it was a day-by-day process.