Page 34 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

“He did a little dance. It was interesting,” Brantley answered, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator. It had been one of those days.

“A dance?” Reese’s skepticism bled into the words.

“Yeah. There was music.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Of course I am. The kid took the job because that’s what he’s supposed to do. I did let him choose a partner.”

“Who’d he pick?”

Brantley grinned. “Slade.”

Reese barked a laugh. “I bet that went over well.”

“Like a fart in church.” Brantly took a swig. “How’d it go with Archer?”

“He offered to volunteer at Camp K-9.”

“Really?” Then again, Brantley wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Archer seemed like that kind of guy.

“It got me thinkin’,” Reese began. “If he’s up for it, I thought maybe we’d get another dog for the team. Train him or her to be their partner.”

Brantley studied Reese. “Does that mean Archer accepted the offer?”

Reese’s smile was slow and proud. “He did.”

Thank fuck for that. The team needed another strong leader.

They had Evan and Baz, both former detectives and capable of leading a team, who were skilled at what they did.

Evan worked well with Slade, and he knew they would succeed together, as partners, but not as a driving force behind the entire team.

And Baz … he had a knack for leading, but not from the front like Brantley would’ve preferred.

No, for some reason, he saw Atticus in that role. More so with someone as strong as Archer at his side. He could honestly see them leading a task force of their own one day.

Granted, he could be completely off base, but he didn’t think so.

“Did y’all talk about a start date?”

“ASAP.”

“Even better.” Brantley looked at his watch. “I need to make a couple of calls, then we’ll meet up on the couch and watch a movie.”

“I’m gonna take Tesha out to play ball for a bit, so yeah. That works for me.”

As soon as she heard the word ball , Tesha began pouncing around Reese’s feet like a puppy.

While they headed out the back door, Brantley made his way upstairs to his office. He took a seat in his chair and keyed in his password to unlock his laptop. He had a couple dozen emails that needed his attention, but he decided to put them off until tomorrow.

His first order of business was to call Baz, see how the new father was doing. He wasn’t thrilled with the way he’d left things with JJ, but he also didn’t want to disturb her if she happened to be resting.

Baz answered on the first ring, his voice soft and low.

“How’re things?” Brantley asked.

“Better than expected,” Baz said, a smile in his voice. “Give me just a sec to get out into the hall.”

Brantley waited, picturing JJ asleep in that king-size hospital bed—which they’d returned after the delivery—all those pillows propped up around her.

“Okay,” Baz said a moment later, voice clearer. “Sorry about that.”

“We stopped by a little while ago, but you weren’t there,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“I’d gone down to get JJ some food from the cafeteria for when she was finished with her visit. My mom and dad caught me on my way back up.”

“We saw those little ones. Cute as a bug. They have names yet?”

Baz chuckled. “JJ can’t decide, so no.”

Brantley considered asking what names they were tossing around, but he’d done that once already, and it hadn’t gone over well.

Apparently—at least to JJ—choosing names was a sentimental process and required a lot of thought.

Brantley was fairly certain that wasn’t true for everyone since he was named after a small town in Alabama.

To hear his mother tell the story, they’d been passing through there on one of their earlier vacations, and she loved how small and quaint it was.

Since Brantley considered himself pretty much anything but small and quaint, he didn’t see the sentimentality. But to each his own.

“JJ mentioned ten to fourteen days in the NICU.”

“Yeah. If we’re lucky. The doctors are optimistic. It all depends on how they progress.”

“Is there anything we can do in the meantime? We can run to the store, pick stuff up, and take it back to the house.”

“My mother’s got that covered. But thanks for the offer.”

Brantley smiled. Of course she did.

“How’re things there? Did you talk to Simon?”

Brantley relayed the conversation they’d had, giving Baz the high-level details.

“Wow. That’s … wow.”

“My thoughts exactly. I’m gonna talk to the team tomorrow, get their input. I want their buy-in before we venture down this road.” That was only partially true. Brantley had every intention of seeing this through to the end, but he wasn’t going to force the team to go along if they didn’t want to.

“Would you mind if I came by when you talk to them?”

“Why don’t you call me in the mornin’, let me know a good time. We’ll plan it around you.”

“I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Brantley said with a gruff chuckle. “I want to.”

“Thanks. I know JJ’s gonna want to know all the details.”

That was an understatement, but Brantley didn’t bother telling Baz as much.

“Well, give JJ a hug for us, and we’ll see you at some point tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

Brantley set his phone on the desk and stared at it while he mentally replayed all the information back as best he could.

He kept getting stuck on the photograph of Jessie and Kate at the funeral.

It was one of the pictures that had been featured in the newspaper shortly after.

The first time he saw it, he thought of his cousin Travis.

Before he realized he was dialing, the phone started ringing. Brantley figured it would go to voicemail since Travis hadn’t answered any of his calls as of late.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Brantley grunted, sitting up. “I thought you’d blocked my number.”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind, but I won’t argue it’s a good idea,” Travis said in that infamous monotone of his.

Brantley took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, buying time to gather his thoughts. He hadn’t anticipated Travis answering.

“What’s up?” Travis asked. “Why’d you call?”

Had he always been that blunt and to the point, Brantley wondered. Or was this the new Travis? The after Travis?

Because there was no easy way to broach the subject, he decided to jump right in. “You’ve had a conversation with Simon Jennings recently?”

There was a brief pause before Travis said, “I have.”

“He gave you details of the podcast he wants to do?”

“He did.”

“And you’re okay with it?”

“Why’re you asking?”

“Simon came to us,” he said quickly. “Lookin’ for more information.”

“On what?”

“Our investigation.”

“Into?”

Brantley hated this conversation already, and they hadn’t gotten to the difficult part yet.

“I don’t have time for this, Brantley. Spit it out.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “Simon’s lookin’ for the task force to help him nail down the truth about Meredith Prescott’s disappearance.”

“And?”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“With what? You and Reese helpin’ him?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

Brantley waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

“No?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?”

Brantley ignored Travis’s frustration. “Did he happen to lay out the conspiracy?”

“Conspiracy? No. He mentioned Kylie’s mother was the sole witness to a mob hit.”

“And you don’t have a problem with him diggin’ into this?”

“Why would I?”

“Well, for starters, you’ll likely end up on Max Adorite’s bad side.”

“Provided Simon ferrets out the truth, then so be it.”

Brantley knew what would happen if he explained the hell that could potentially rain down on them if they ended up on the wrong side of a mob boss, so he left it at that.

“Are you plannin’ on helpin’ him out?”

“Yes,” Brantley answered honestly. “There are a lot of missing pieces at the moment, but we intend to get them nailed down so we can see what direction we’re headed.”

“Good.”

“And you’re sure you’re all right with this?”

“I don’t see as I really have a choice.”

“That’s why Simon came to you,” Brantley answered defensively. “If you didn’t want him doin’ this, you should’ve told him.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want him doin’ it,” Travis growled roughly. “I want the truth. Whatever that might be. Plus, what’ve I got to lose, Brantley? Huh? My wife’s dead. That’s not gonna change.”

Brantley swallowed the knot that formed in his throat.

Although Travis had never come out and said so, Brantley got the feeling his cousin blamed him for Kylie’s death.

He didn’t blame him. Hell, he felt responsible.

If they’d found Juliet Prince before she made her way back to Coyote Ridge, they could’ve stopped it from happening.

Not that hindsight did anything more than add heaping amounts of guilt to the already exhaustive pile.

“I would appreciate one thing, though,” Travis stated.

“Sure. Name it.”

“You keep me apprised of what’s goin’ on.”

Nodding, Brantley said, “Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“No.”

“I’ll talk to you later, then.”

Travis didn’t even give him a chance to say goodbye. The call ended, and Brantley was left wondering whether they would be better off letting this one go unsolved.

Reese looked up when he heard Brantley’s footsteps on the stairs. He noticed the crease in his forehead, the one that appeared when he had something on his mind. As soon as Brantley noticed him watching, the crease disappeared.

Hmm. Reese wondered how often the man masked his expression for his benefit.

Brantley nudged his chin in Tesha’s direction. “You wear her out already?”

“She gave up first,” he said, smiling over at the dog now curled up asleep on her bed.

“Yeah, well. I can attest it takes effort to keep up with you.”

Reese grinned. “I thought it was the other way around.”

“Did you decide on a movie?”

Definitely something on Brantley’s mind if he was changing the subject so quickly. Especially with an opening like that.

“I was thinkin’ Wrath of Man .”

“Jason Statham.” Brantley smiled. “You know how much I like him.”

He did know.

“Popcorn?”