Page 56 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

Slade nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked disappointed, and Atticus couldn’t really blame him. While he didn’t particularly want to have dinner with Slade’s parents—he wasn’t sure they were at that point yet—he had committed, and this felt a lot like backing out on purpose.

Atticus waited until Slade turned away. He continued to wait, watching until Slade’s truck pulled out of the lot.

When he tapped in his code to get back in the barn, he figured he should come up with something to explain.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how, since this wasn’t the first time Archer had witnessed Slade’s inexplicable reaction to Atticus talking to another guy. A co-worker at that.

Then again, Atticus didn’t really understand it himself.

When Atticus returned, Archer turned to look at him, purposely shifting focus to what they were working on. He understood all too well that feeling of being put on the spot to come up with excuses. He preferred to bypass that part of the evening. For both their sakes.

“Luca provided some information on Allison Bogart.”

Atticus looked surprised and relieved to have a topic other than whatever had just happened between him and Slade, so he kept going.

“He did a deep dive on her.” Archer tapped the screen, pulling up the full dossier.

“She was born and raised in Dallas. Graduated halfway through her senior year, went straight to Texas State University in pursuit of a degree in criminal justice. She was twenty-four and armed with a master’s degree and two years of experience interning with the FBI Forensic Science Research Lab when she went to work full time for the FBI. ”

Atticus moved closer. “Looks like she was a real go-getter.”

“You’d think that, right? More like Martin Calloway moved her up the ladder because he had another agenda.”

“Why would he do that? Why her?”

“I assume because of this.” Archer zoomed in on a section outlining Allison’s upbringing. “Her mother is the illegitimate daughter of Stewart Crawford, the big oil tycoon.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Atticus said. “Up in Dallas.”

“Correct. Back in 2012, Stewart’s legitimate son, Stephen, was arrested for blackmailing government officials in order to protect his father’s company. They were racking up a lot of violations for illegal drilling and whatnot.”

“What’d he blackmail them with?”

“There’s not much to go on, but I found this.” He tapped the screen to bring up an article written by McKenna Thorne. “Allegedly, he had a list of people who were members of a private fetish club. They called it The Club at Club Destiny.”

“Not very creative.”

Archer laughed.

“Was there a list?”

“Not that I can find. Coincidentally—or maybe not—Luke McCoy, the owner of the club, shut it down right around that time.”

“Sounds suspicious, but okay. How does Alison play into this?”

“Like Decker said, Martin’s an equal-opportunity blackmailer. It looks like he threatened to prove that Allison’s mother and father played a part in Stephen’s crimes.”

“I thought you said Big Oil Daddy didn’t claim her.”

“He didn’t. But he set her up financially. My guess is, Martin followed the money and latched onto the opportunity.”

“I thought Martin was responsible for organized crime. How’d he go down this path?”

“Unknown at this time.”

Atticus nodded, staring at the screen. Archer gave him a moment to let it all sink in.

“What about this?” Atticus pointed to a name on the screen. “It says Allison’s father worked in construction. Why do you have a star by this?”

“That just happens to be owned by one of many shell companies tied to the Adorites.”

“So her dad worked for the Adorites?”

“I don’t think that was how it started. I figure Calloway forced him into the business. Another way to get dirt on the Adorites.”

“Ah. Okay. But if he’s got his claws in her dad, why bring her in? Was it a convenient career path?”

“Not exactly.” Archer turned to face Atticus. “Allison Bogart was on a path to Juilliard.”

“That’s the music school, right?”

“Performing arts, yes.”

He walked over to his computer and pressed play. Music came from the speakers, filling the room.

“Is that her?” Atticus asked, coming to stand beside him.

Archer turned the laptop so Atticus had a better view of the young girl sitting at the piano, her fingers working magic on the keys. “From what I’ve read, she was a child prodigy.”

“Wow. She’s impressive. I mean, I don’t know the first damn thing about the piano, but it sounds like she knows what she’s doing..”

Archer chuckled.

Atticus’s eyebrows darted down as he stared up at the case board. “How does a pianist go from that”—he pointed at the computer, still playing one of her performances—“to criminal justice?”

“With the help of one Martin Calloway. It’s all speculation at this point, but it looks like he wasn’t satisfied with simply getting his hands on the mom and dad.”

“That’s a serious new low for this asshole. He took a young girl with a gift and turned her into what? His personal chess piece?”

Archer liked the analogy. “I think that’s exactly what he did.”

Atticus propped a hip on the table. “I guess the question I have is, why didn’t Martin Calloway take down the Southern Boy Mafia already? With so many chess pieces, it should’ve been a ringer for him, no?”

That was a damn good question. One Archer didn’t have an answer for.

“Decker said Allison was a…” Atticus snapped his fingers. “Some kind of specialist.”

“Surveillance,” Archer supplied.

“Right. That means she watches people?”

“Looks that way.”

“Decker said she reached out to him. Do we have the timeframe on that?”

“Not yet.” Archer went back to the case board and pulled up the timeline. “Based on everything else, I’m going to assume it was sometime between when she started with the FBI in 2015 and September 2021, when the task force hired her.”

Atticus walked up to the board, pointed to a date. “You have pictures of her at the funeral in January 2021, so she was surveilling them at that point. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that she applied to join the task force.”

“Doubtful. I figured that was the next step when Meredith didn’t show at the funeral. Baz has notes stating Allison worked with them on one case as a probationary member, but she disappeared before they solved it.”

“Clearly not invested,” Atticus muttered, staring at the screen.

Archer’s phone buzzed. “That’s the food. I’ll walk out and get it. Be back in a sec.”

When he returned, he found Atticus sitting at the table, staring at his phone.

“Everything okay?”

“Probably not,” he muttered before looking up and shaking his head. “It’s all good.”

Not wanting to pry, Archer proceeded to pass the food out before taking his seat. They ate in silence for a few minutes when Archer felt the need to clear the air.

“I just want you to know, I won’t pry. Your business is your business. I’m sure you’ll see plenty of my business the longer we work together.”

Atticus chewed and nodded.

“But if you ever wanna bounce shit off me, I’ve been accused of bein’ a good listener.”

Atticus grinned. “It’s a fucking mess, that’s all I know.”

“Relationships aren’t easy,” he said, keeping his eyes on his food so Atticus didn’t feel the need to keep talking.

“It’s a new thing. Me and Slade. And Carson.” Atticus grabbed his water. “Three of us tryin’ to make somethin’ work. And those two … they’ve got history. Not the good kind. And now I’m in the middle. By choice. I thought it’d be fun, but it’s getting complicated fast.”

Archer couldn’t hide his reaction. He lifted his head, surprised by the information.

“It doesn’t help that I live with Slade. Roommates. That became a thing after we … you know.” Atticus waved a hand. “Now I’m kinda stuck. I think Slade’ll get over himself. Or maybe he won’t. Fuck, I don’t know. But I don’t have time for it right now.”

Still staring, Archer noticed the instant Atticus realized he’d been on a rant.

“Oh, shit.” Atticus shot up from his seat. “I can’t … Fuck me. I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“I’ll say it again.” Archer kept his tone even. “Relationships aren’t easy.”

Atticus stared at him. A slow smile began to creep across his face. “Shit. I really am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. If we’re partners, we’ll pick on things in each other’s lives. It’s natural.”

“Yeah?”

Archer nodded.

Atticus sat down. “Okay then.”

They continued to eat for a few minutes. Again, Atticus spoke up first.

“What about you? In a relationship?”

Archer thought about Spencer and the argument they’d had last night. “Can’t say that I am.”

“Well, when you are, I’ll listen if you pop your cork and spew all your shit all over the table.”

Archer barked a laugh, nearly snorting water out of his nose. “That’s a deal.”

It took a few minutes in complete silence for them to finish eating.

“You want coffee? Or there’s some Ghost energy drinks,” Atticus asked, gathering up the empty containers.

“I wouldn’t say no to a Ghost.”

When Atticus slipped out, Archer walked around the table and perched on the edge, staring at the timeline they’d developed. It wasn’t all-inclusive (not yet), but it had enough information that it seemed wise to consider that Holt was on to something. There were definitely signs of a conspiracy.

Atticus returned a minute later with two cans. He passed one over as he stood beside Archer, also staring at the screen.

Gesturing forward with his drink, Atticus said, “Luca mentioned Censorious or somethin’ like that.”

“Yup.” Archer stood, tapped the back button on the screen, and located the folder Atticus referred to. He opened it and clicked on the first file.

“Censorious,” Atticus read, “is a group of vigilantes, consisting of civilians and law enforcement who see themselves as upholders of justice. First operational in … holy shit. 1957. Really?”

“They split several times over the years, but they always seem to come back together.”

“How many members?”

“Close to two thousand at last count,” Archer answered.

“All working for the greater good.”

Archer snorted. “The problem with groups like that is it’s perceived justice. They often pervert the law in order to get the result they want.”

“Not to mention, it morphs, right?” Atticus asked. “They can lose sight of what they intended to stand for because the power they wield becomes an addiction.”

“They can, yes.”

“I watch TV,” Atticus said with a chuckle. “So my view is based on fiction.”

“Fiction or otherwise, it’s all the same. They have an end goal, and they bastardize their original beliefs to obtain their objective.”

“Do we have a list of members?”

Archer flipped back to the folder, scanned the list of documents. “I don’t see one yet.”

Atticus set down his can and grabbed the notepad with their running list. “I’ll make a note to get that.”