Page 19 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)
“Is it time?”
Brantley paused in Reese’s office doorway. “Time for…?”
“JJ. Labor. Babies.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Brantley stood in the doorway, watching the man who was nose-deep in his computer monitor. He hadn’t looked up once. Not even to ask that random question.
“What’re you workin’ on?”
Reese gestured toward the screen.
Brantley mimicked his gesture, only he was asking him to continue. “And that is?”
Reese still didn’t look up.
With a sigh to show he was completely put out, Brantley said, “Not even married two weeks, and you’re already leavin’ me to fend for myself for lunch.”
Reese didn’t look up, instead pointing at the screen. “How did we not know this?”
Indulging him, Brantley walked around behind the desk. “Not know what?”
“That Kylie’s mother witnessed a murder.”
“I thought we did know that.”
“Not until Holt.”
“Okay.” Brantley would give him that. “You’re sayin’ we should’ve known?”
“Yes.”
“Do we know Kylie’s mother?” Brantley asked, confused as to why Reese sounded so adamant about that.
Reese’s eyes had a glazed, far-off look to them when he finally peered up. “She allegedly saw Max Adorite kill a man.”
“I’m sure a lot of people have witnessed Max Adorite kill a man. He’s not exactly Mr. Rogers.”
“She saw him.”
Since it was clear Reese needed to get this information out, Brantley decided to indulge him. “Okay. Kylie’s mother—whom we do not know—witnessed Max Adorite kill a man. When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you guesstimate? A decade, two?”
“At least two. Probably.”
He recalled hearing something about Kylie’s mother having left after Kylie’s sister turned eighteen. He didn’t know their exact ages, but he had to assume it was about that time.
“Was it when she up and left? After Jessie turned eighteen?”
Reese frowned. “So you did know?”
“About her witnessing a murder? No. But I’ve heard rumors about Kylie’s parents.”
Reese was staring at him as though he needed more to go on.
Figuring it was only fair to fill him in, Brantley explained. Or tried to. “Travis is my cousin. Small town. Trey mentioned it once. Back when Kylie showed up in town and everyone learned Travis was married to her. Rumor was, her mom left for greener pastures.”
Reese’s forehead held a crease of confusion when he looked back at the screen. “I’m not so sure it was by choice.”
“Let me guess, this is the theory Holt’s goin’ on about?”
“I think so. But somethin’ feels off about this information. It feels … planted. You would expect it to’ve been in all the reputable Dallas newspapers, but it wasn’t. In fact, I can’t find where any of the local media caught onto the story until long after it supposedly happened.”
“So you don’t think it’s true?”
“I think it’s sus.”
“Sus?” Brantley frowned. “What the hell is sus ?”
“You know. Suspicious.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you finish the word?”
Reese waved him off. “It’s suspicious . But surely I’m not the only one who thinks so.” Reese shook his head. “Regardless, I’m still not sure the angle Simon’s playing.”
Brantley waited, expecting some sort of explanation. What he got was more of Reese skimming the words on the screen.
“Well, I guess it’s peanut butter and jelly then.” Brantley squeezed Reese’s shoulder but didn’t get a response.
Damn it. He really didn’t want peanut butter and jelly. He was hoping for Whataburger. Or maybe Chick-fil-A. Something with a little substance. And by substance, he meant grease.
“Do you know any FBI agents?” Reese mumbled.
Well, that was random. And more than a little worrisome since Reese was still eye-locked with the computer screen.
“Hey.”
“Hmm?”
“Reese.”
“Hmm?”
“Look at me.”
It took a few seconds, but he finally did.
“Can we have lunch? We can go … somewhere. Maybe Chick-fil-A. You like their salads. And while we eat, you can share what you know so I can be on the same page when we meet with Simon and Holt.”
Reese spun in his chair, and Brantley realized it was so that he could look at the clock. “Holy shit. It’s lunchtime.”
“Yeah. My stomach’s been remindin’ me for the past hour.”
A second later, Reese was on his feet, leading the way out of his office, down the stairs, then straight out the front door.
Brantley remained in the house, whistling for Tesha. She came trotting toward him, ears perked.
“I think it’s safe to say he’s got somethin’ on his mind,” Brantley told her as he hooked her leash to her harness. “Come on, girl. If you’re good, I’ll sneak you some chicken nuggets.”
“Sonuvabitch,” Reese grumbled, hopping out of the truck as Brantley approached. “I’m sorry, girl.”
Brantley chuckled as Reese took her leash and helped her into the truck, hugging her numerous times in order to make up for his oversight.
“Whatever’s on your mind must be good,” Brantley said as he started the truck. “Go on. Let’s hear it.”
“Where do I even start?” Reese asked as they were taking a seat at one of the empty tables near the enormous playground inside Chick-fil-A.
“Why don’t you pretend I know nothin’,” Brantley said. “Because I’m pretty sure I know nothin’.”
Reese chuckled. “You know some of it.”
“Again, pretend I don’t.”
While he ordered his thoughts, Reese popped the lid off his salad and added dressing. By the time he got it prepared, Brantley had already polished off his fries and was unwrapping the first of two chicken sandwiches.
“Holt’s workin’ on a book,” he began. “It’s based in a small town. He’s usin’ Coyote Ridge as a baseline.”
“You get this information from Holt?”
“Actually, no. He’s still mum. Doesn’t want Travis thinkin’ he’s spreadin’ rumors.”
“Makes sense. Who’s spillin’ the beans, then? Simon?”
“Yeah.”
“Gotcha. Keep goin’.”
“In order to make the story authentic, Holt does a lot of research upfront.”
“Which is how he started diggin’ into other people’s business,” Brantley muttered.
Reese hadn’t seen it that way, but now that Brantley mentioned it… “Fair enough. It was durin’ his research that he came across an article about Kylie’s death.”
“He writes mysteries, doesn’t he?”
“He does.”
“Her death’s not a mystery.”
“It’s not,” Reese agreed. “Have you ever started lookin’ at somethin’ online and gone down a rabbit hole?”
“A literal one, no.”
Reese tilted his head. “Come on. Be serious.”
Brantley grinned and Reese felt that smile through his entire body.
And fine, maybe he had been deep in thought ever since he talked to Simon yesterday morning.
He’d been given a lot of information. More than he expected.
But what surprised him most was how it all seemed to fit.
Add that to the bits and pieces they’d acquired during their trip to New York—the stuff he’d asked JJ to hide from Brantley until after the wedding—and Reese couldn’t deny that it had created far more questions than answers.
“Fine. Online. Research. Rabbit hole. Keep goin’,” Brantly urged.
“According to Simon, Holt doesn’t recall how he got there, but he came across an article about the Southern Boy Mafia. It referenced a witness who’d seen Max kill a man.”
“And naturally, he’d think Kylie’s mom.”
“No.”
Brantley frowned, lifting his head slowly. “When was this really? Max supposedly killin’ someone? Twenty years? You said the information seemed like it was planted. Did they wait a while?”
“Simon doesn’t have specific dates, but he does know it’s not too much before Kylie’s mother disappeared from their lives. He hasn’t ordered it, and he’s only started a brief outline. He wants us to take a look at everything Holt’s acquired to get the details.”
“Everything he’s acquired?”
Reese exhaled. “Yeah. Apparently, he’s rentin’ the apartment above the bookstore and he’s got quite a bit of information that he believes—”
“Hold that thought,” Brantley said when his phone rang. “Walker.”
Reese watched as Brantley’s eyes widened.
“Seriously?” Brantley’s smile grew. “That’s fantastic. We’re on our way, man. Y’all need us to bring anything?” There was a brief pause, followed by, “Then we’ll head that way. See you in a few.”
Brantley disconnected the call and shoved the rest of his second sandwich in his mouth, motioning for Reese to hurry it up.
Although he suspected he already knew, Reese asked, “Who was that?”
Brantley didn’t answer right away, attempting to chew and swallow. “Baz.”
Reese frowned. “Everything okay?”
Brantley nodded as he got to his feet. “The babies are comin’.”
“Oh, shit.” Reese hopped up and grabbed Tesha’s leash. “Come on, girl.”
He was halfway to the door when he realized Brantley wasn’t behind him. He looked back to see him gathering up the food from the table. He tossed one bag and balanced two cups and a salad as he headed for the door.
If his head wasn’t attached to his shoulders, Reese had to believe he would’ve left that behind, which was very much unlike him.
He blamed Simon. For whatever reason, Reese was compelled to learn more about this supposed conspiracy.
He was intrigued—perhaps borderline obsessed—and that was throwing him off his game.
Reese took the salad and his drink, then pushed open the door.
“Are the babies comin’ now?” he asked.
“Not yet. On their way, though.”
Reese had to wonder why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he was about to be a father, yet his stomach was doing flip-flops.
They weaved between the rows of cars waiting in the drive-thru lanes. Reese managed to open the back door so Tesha could hop in. He snuck her one of the nuggets from the salad as he buckled her in, then closed the door and climbed into the front passenger seat.
“We should probably tell everyone else, huh?” he asked, setting his salad on the dashboard.
“You do that. I’ll drive.”
Reese pulled up the group text thread he maintained with the team and shot one quick message.
—Babies are on the way. What’re you waiting for?
For the next few minutes, his phone chimed again and again with responses as people replied to say they were heading there as soon as they could.
“Let’s hope Baz didn’t jump the gun,” Reese said, setting his phone in the cup holder.
“You message Z?”
“Damn it.” He grabbed his phone and shot a quick message to his brother, letting him know he would keep him updated. He figured there was no sense in Z driving down until the babies were born.
“It’s gonna be fine,” Brantley said, taking his hand.
Reese didn’t realize he was fidgeting until Brantley’s strong fingers twined with his.
As he’d been doing for the past couple of weeks, Brantley rubbed his finger on Reese’s wedding ring.
It was a simple gesture, likely not even something he thought about, but it made Reese remember how lucky he was.
“Why aren’t you nervous?” he asked Brantley.
“Because JJ’d kick my ass. Plus, I owe it to her after all she did for the wedding. I figure Baz’ll be enough for her to deal with.”
“You think he’ll freak?”
“I think he’s been far too calm and collected through the whole process.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what he wants us to see,” Reese told him.
“Probably.” Brantley grinned. “But Wes is there. Baz seems calmer when his dad’s around.”
“He leans on him a lot.” It was something Reese admired about Baz. The relationship he had with his father. Having lost his own father, he didn’t have that relationship anymore, and he missed it.
“Yeah, well. Wes is a good guy.”
“Speakin’ of fathers,” Reese prompted. “You tell your parents?”
“Oh, shit. Can you do it? They’ll wanna be there.”
Reese grabbed his phone with his free hand and took care of that, then he sat back and enjoyed the silence for the rest of the drive. He figured he should savor it since it was all they were gonna get for a while.