Page 58 of Missing Pieces (Brantley Walker: Off the Books #12)

Brantley woke to Reese nudging his shoulder .

“Hmm?”

“Atticus just called,” Reese’s voice was low and deep, thick with sleep. “He wants us to meet them at the barn.”

He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Not quite morning.”

Not sure what that meant, Brantley grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He squinted at the screen. 04:41.

No, not quite morning.

“They found something,” Reese added.

That was enough to pique Brantley’s interest. “What?”

“Didn’t say. But they worked almost all night.”

He knew he’d picked the right two for this case.

“I told him to give us a few minutes.”

“Can we get coffee first?” he asked, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Atticus already started a pot.”

“He’s a good kid,” Brantley noted, smiling.

Fifteen minutes later, armed with coffee, Brantley stood in the conference room and skimmed the timeline on the case board.

He had to admit, they did good work. Quickly, at that.

It didn’t quite tell a compelling story, but it tied the information they had together so that it made a modicum of sense.

“Where do you go from here?” Reese asked, addressing Archer and Atticus.

Brantley turned in time to see the two men share a look.

“What was that?” He gestured between them.

“We … um … found something we think you should see.”

“Something more than that?” He nodded toward the case board.

“Yeah,” Atticus drawled as Archer turned his computer screen toward them.

“What am I lookin’ at?” he prompted, leaning forward and squinting to read the tiny print.

“That’s the question of the hour,” Atticus said.

Brantley frowned.

“What is this?” Reese asked, sounding as shocked as Brantley felt.

“We don’t know exactly,” Archer explained. “We were going through more of Holt’s notes and saw it. Figured you’d want that information before we started digging further.”

Brantley stood tall, looked at Reese. He felt his blood pressure rise, anger simmering in his bloodstream.

“Holt needs to explain,” Reese said quickly, clearly detecting that Brantley was dangerously close to detonation.

“He’s on the way,” Archer added. “I called Simon at the same time Atticus called you. Told him to get Holt and head over.”

As though it was planned, the monitor beeped, signaling motion detected on one of the cameras.

“They’re here,” Atticus told them. “I’ll open the door.”

Brantley set his coffee mug down, no longer needing the caffeine jolt. He felt as though he was attached to a live wire as it was.

It wasn’t until Reese put a firm hand on his arm that Brantley realized he was seething.

“Give them a chance to explain.”

Brantley stared at him as though he’d grown another head. “For fuck’s sake. What is there to explain?”

“We don’t know what it means. It could be fictional crap for his book.”

He could tell Reese didn’t truly believe that.

“Breathe,” Reese said firmly, giving his arm a squeeze. “Let him explain.”

Brantley inhaled slow and deep, forcing himself to calm down enough to have a civil conversation. How long that would last was anyone’s guess. It was enough to stop him from slamming Holt up against the wall the moment he stepped into the barn.

“We’ve got some questions about information we found,” Archer explained, speaking directly to Holt as soon as he stepped into the barn.

He had to give the guy credit. He wasn’t smiling, so either Archer forewarned him, or Holt had been expecting this. Either way, Brantley wanted fucking answers.

“Is it true?” Reese asked, his tone far calmer than Brantley felt. “Do you really believe that crap about…?”

Evidently, Reese wasn’t holding it together as well as Brantley thought. The man’s sentence trailed off, disbelief glittering in his eyes.

It said something that Holt didn’t even have to ask what they were referring to.

“I do,” Holt said, his tone reflecting his conviction.

“That’s fictional bullshit,” Brantley accused, moving closer, facing off with Holt directly.

“But it’s not.” Holt took a deep breath. “I honestly believe there’s a good possibility—”

Simon slapped a palm on Holt’s chest, effectively shutting him up. He shook his head once, holding Holt’s gaze.

“What?” Brantley asked.

Neither man spoke.

“Goddammit. Either you tell me what the fuck you were—”

“I’m not comfortable going there,” Simon stated firmly, his gaze narrowed on Holt. “Yet.”

“There?” Brantley stared between them. “Where’s there ?” He pointed toward Archer’s computer screen. “Is that shit real?”

Holt blurted, “There’s a possibility, yeah.”

“God dam mit, Holt,” Simon bellowed.

Brantley’s breath caught in his throat.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Before he knew what he was doing, he lunged at Holt, grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him against the wall.

Holt grunted, and Brantley’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.

“I swear to God, if you start talkin’ bullshit like that, my cousin’s gonna bury you in the dirt himself.”

Holt didn’t attempt to shake him off, didn’t even appear surprised.

“I know how it sounds.” Holt’s tone was quiet, even. “Trust me, I’m not grasping at straws.”

Brantley shook him, then shoved back. “There’s no fuckin’ way.”

“I didn’t want to go this direction,” Simon interjected.

“Not yet, anyway. But when you look at it from a different perspective, I think you’ll see what Holt’s referring to.

” He held up a hand to stop Brantley from launching a tirade at him.

“Doesn’t mean he’s right. But it wasn’t until he shared this information with me that I realized just how big this story is. ”

Releasing Holt, Brantley took a step back. Then another and another until he had room to pace. He grabbed his head and walked, moving in the open area between desks.

It took a minute, but he managed to pull himself together. “There’s a big fucking difference between a story and a life-changing revelation, Simon.”

“I get it.” Simon was placating him. “I honestly do. But trust me, I don’t think it’s something Holt pulled out of his ass.”

“Thanks for that,” Holt muttered.

“You’re welcome.”

“You said Holt told you. When?” Reese asked Simon. “When did he tell you this?”

Brantley spun around. “Tell me you didn’t mention this to Travis. Fuck.”

“I didn’t,” Simon stated. “Even if I’d known at the time, I wouldn’t’ve said anything. Not without real evidence.”

Brantley glanced over his shoulder, glaring at Holt. “I’ll just wish you well now because once my cousin hears about it, you’re as good as dead.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Holt said.

Brantley’s grin was slow and menacing. If Holt thought he was kidding, he knew absolutely nothing about Travis Walker.

He could feel all eyes tracking him, and he could guess what they were thinking. That he was being dramatic. That he was overreacting. They were wrong.

This … information…

Jesus, God.

How the fuck was he supposed to spring this on Travis without risking losing a limb? Or at the very least, walking away with a black eye.

“I have to talk to Travis,” Brantley told Reese. “We said we’d bring him up to speed if and when we had something. This ”—he pointed at Archer’s computer—“is something.”

“I agree. We can call him, see if he can meet us somewhere.”

Brantley shook his head. “I need to do this alone.”

He could see the disappointment in Reese’s gaze, but he also saw understanding.

“We’ll hang here, then. Wait for you to get back.”

Nodding, Brantley started for the door. When he reached it, he put his hand on it to open, but paused, not bothering to look back.

“I sincerely hope that you’re certain about this. If I pass this along and I’m made to look like an idiot, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

With that, he walked out the door.

Travis sat at a booth in the far back of the diner, watching the goings-on in front of him.

This was the same booth he’d sat in when Holt revealed to him that he’d uncovered something about Kylie’s mother.

He’d been pissed at the time. Angry that someone would have the gall to interfere in his personal life.

He’d thought the man was out of his mind.

That was a month ago, and he was still convinced that was the case.

Yet, here he was, gearing up to meet with Brantley to discuss something along those same lines.

According to the phone call he received from his cousin a short time ago, there was an update that couldn’t wait.

Travis doubted that was true. As far as he was concerned, it could all wait.

Kylie was dead. There wasn’t much that mattered in Travis’s life anymore.

His husband, his children. Family. That was all he had left and he no longer took them for granted.

Now here he was waiting for his cousin to show and spill whatever bullshit he’d learned about a woman no one fucking cared about.

Kylie had detested her mother for what she’d done.

Abandoning the family the way she had. Walking away without looking back.

Hell, Meredith hadn’t even shown up for her own daughter’s funeral.

What did it fucking matter that she might’ve been sent into hiding because she crossed a mob boss? No one gave a shit.

Should they? Maybe.

It was that doubt that had convinced him to let Simon Jennings look into the case. Or rather, why he’d given the man his blessing when he mentioned it. Truth was, Travis didn’t care how it turned out.

At least that was what he told himself right up until he saw Brantley’s face when he walked into the restaurant. The man looked … spooked was the first thought that came to mind. It was strange to see his cousin like that. The man was always so confident, so direct.

“Hey,” Brantley greeted as he approached the table. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“You said it was important.”

Brantley exhaled as he sat across from him.

“Where’s Reese?”

“At home. I told him I needed to do this alone.”

Travis frowned. That was new. He thought Brantley and Reese were attached at the hip for as much time as they spent together. Newlyweds and all that.

The waitress swung by, but before she could say a word, Brantley waved her off.

“What did you need to tell me?” Travis prompted when Brantley sat there, staring at the table. “I’ve got things to do today.”

Brantley’s gaze lifted, blue-gray eyes clear. “As you know, we’re lookin’ into the circumstances of Meredith’s disappearance. I’ve assigned Archer and Atticus to lead the investigation.”

When Brantley paused, Travis fought the urge to get up and walk out the door. He didn’t give a shit about any of this.

“They worked all night to put together a timeline that will allow us to start pursuing leads.”

Again, he waited, his patience quickly dwindling.

“When they were going through Holt’s notes, they found something. Something that … well, it sounds insane. So insane that I confronted Holt and Simon about it this morning. They assure me it’s real.”

Frowning, Travis leaned in. “What the hell are you tellin’ me this for?”

Brantley took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I know you’re not gonna believe this any more than I do, but…”

“Goddammit, Brant—”

“They’ve uncovered evidence—” Brantley shook his head, still holding his stare. “I honestly don’t know how to say it.”

“Just spit it out so we can move on with our lives.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t think we can.”

Confused, Travis pinned Brantley with a hard look. “Tell. Me.”

The pause that ensued felt like it went on for years, but then Brantley opened his mouth and words began spilling out.

“They’ve uncovered evidence that leads them to believe Kylie’s alive.”

Words that didn’t make a lick of sense.

Words that caused the Earth to stop spinning.

As those words sank in, Travis’s entire existence tilted.

It. Fucking. Tilted.

Sending him off his axis for the second time in as many years.