Brantley turned his attention to Reese while JJ’s voice droned in the background.
“The brother?” he asked.
“Yeah. And Collins is hidin’ his brother’s crimes. Probably moved to this area in hopes of puttin’ it behind him since those cases are still unsolved. Then they started up again, new area. Close to home. Because we’ve seen reports that CPS was called out, we can safely assume that something transpired in their childhood that required state intervention.”
“It’s a bit of a leap to assume their hellish childhood was what prompted his brother to start killin’ women, though, isn’t it?” Trey countered.
“But it fits,” Baz said firmly.
“And it also supports the idea that, because of what they endured, Collins is loyal to his mentally disturbed brother.”
“Go get him, Brantley,” JJ stated from the computer screen.
He took a deep breath, processed what Reese was saying, remembered that their main objective was to locate Jody Henderson and the other women who’d disappeared. Or was it? Was that the only thing he was capable of doing? Finding people? Sure, it was his job. Now. But his elite training and the sailor in him wouldn’t allow him to look the other way, to leave it up to someone else to resolve.
“We can’t just confront him,” Reese warned. “If we tip him or his brother off that we’ve figured it out…”
“There’s a chance he’ll kill ’em,” Baz finished for him.
JJ sighed. “Good point. So what do we do?”
“First of all, I need all the info on the brother. Dig deeper. Get me a birth certificate, social security number. Something. I want to know who we’re dealin’ with,” he told JJ. “Where did he go to school? How long has he lived with his brother? What does he do for a living? Job history, all that shit.”
“Will do,” she confirmed.
“The same on the detective,” Reese said. “Follow the trail back to when he was livin’ with his mother. Find out what CPS knows. There’s a record of it somewhere.”
“And that sealed juvie record…” Brantley met JJ’s gaze on-screen. “Unseal it.”
She nodded, understanding he meant by any means necessary.
“Baz, I want you to reach out, see if you can get a feel for the detective. Talk to his superiors, any partners he’s had in the past. But be discreet about it. Reese is right, we can’t tip him off until we’ve done our due diligence.”
“Got it,” Baz said from off-screen.
“If the brother’s our guy, we will take him down. Which means we have to cover our asses. But our priority is still to find these women. I need Collins’s address. We’ll scope it out, see if we can get eyes on the brother. If he’s there, we might be able to follow him to where he’s keepin’ them.”
“What if they’re in the house?”
“I’d be surprised if they were,” Baz said. “Collins might cover for his brother, hide his crimes, but as a sworn officer of the law, I don’t want to believe he could condone it happening right in front of him.”
“I agree,” Brantley said. “So get me the address, plus the tag numbers for any vehicles they own. Reese and I will head over now, sit on the house for a while.”
“Will do,” JJ answered. “Oh, wait. Before you go…”
The camera angle shifted, then tilted until Tesha filled the screen.
“She’s just chillin’ with us,” JJ said, a smile in her voice.
Brantley glanced down at Reese, noticed he was staring at the screen, a genuine smile that reached all the way to his eyes.
“Thanks for that, JJ,” Brantley told her. “I’m sure you’ll find a way for us to make it up to you.”
“Of course I will.”
The video call ended and Brantley closed his laptop, got to his feet, walked over to Reese.
“Anyone tell you your brain works in mysterious ways?”
Reese stared back at him.
“And it’s fuckin’ hot,” he whispered before leaning in and kissing him.
Whether it was the adrenaline that spiked from their mission or merely the overwhelming lust he felt for this man, Brantley didn’t know, but something shifted in that moment. And the detour became unavoidable when Reese fisted the front of his shirt, jerked him forward as their tongues fought for supremacy.
Brantley held on just as tightly, gripping the back of Reese’s neck, holding him there as they stumbled to the bed, then down onto it.
They rolled a couple of times, neither of them willing to go down easily.
“I’m not submissive,” Reese muttered, nipping Brantley’s lower lip.
He laughed, remembering Z’s comment from earlier.
Pulling back, he stared down into Reese’s eyes. “No?”
Those sexy brown eyes narrowed. “You want me to show you just how not submissive I am?”
He held Reese’s gaze. “You’re damn right I do.”
It was a dare, and it worked. Reese flipped them easily. Almost too easily, Brantley realized. Either he was getting lax or Reese was stronger than he’d given him credit for.
Their mouths fused once more, breaths racing out of their lungs as they became a fumble of hands, working to get clothes off. Neither of them gave quarter, and it became a genuine battle for dominance.
Although he considered giving in to Reese, Brantley was unable to accept defeat, which was how he ended up on top, Reese naked and sweaty beneath him.
He stared down into Reese’s eyes. “Another round later,” he said, his lungs still working overtime. “Right now, I want you to turn over.”
“Make me.”
Brantley smiled, couldn’t help it.
And then he did as Reese instructed. He flipped him onto his stomach, held him in place as he slid his cock along the crack of Reese’s ass. He was tempted to fuck him without lube but knew it wouldn’t be nearly as good for either one of them. It took effort, but he managed to hold Reese in place while he fumbled for the lubricant sitting on the nightstand. He smacked Reese’s ass a couple of times as he attempted to slick his cock and keep the man from getting away from him at the same time.
It worked in his favor, but he figured Reese wasn’t giving him one hundred percent.
When he sank into the blistering heat of Reese’s ass, Brantley groaned, his body stilling.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” he ground out, his fingertips digging into Reese’s hips.
Beneath him, Reese began to move, clearly eager for him to get on with it.
With his adrenaline still surging, Brantley jerked Reese’s hips back, bringing him up onto his knees. He was close enough to the edge that he managed to shift one foot to the floor then the other while remaining lodged deep inside the man.
Then he fucked him.
Hard.
No holds barred.
With every punishing thrust, he jerked Reese toward him, their bodies slapping together, their guttural groans filling the air as they sated the urge. Despite the fact he knew it was only temporary, that he would be raring to go sooner rather than later, Brantley let himself enjoy this moment the same as he did every time they were intimate like this.
He had never felt anything this good, anything quite so overwhelming. With Reese, their joining was about more than the act, more than the sheer pleasure that came from fucking. And that was what made him crave Reese.
Because he was so worked up and the man beneath him was so fucking hot, Brantley didn’t last long. He pushed in deep, again and again, harder, faster, until his balls were so tight and that tingling sensation lit up right at the base of his spine before erupting into a brilliant shower of heat and light within him.
He didn’t waste time. As soon as he’d come, Brantley pulled out, flipped Reese over, and took him in his mouth. He figured he deserved the hard grip Reese applied to his hair as he held him there, driving his hips upward and fucking his face. Not long after, Reese war roaring his release, the sound something Brantley would never tire of hearing.
***
“You can catch a nap if you’d like,” Brantley said, his attention, like Reese’s, on the house they were staking out.
“You think I need a nap?” Reese peered over at Brantley. “Should I be worried about you, then? You’ve got what? Half a decade on me? Maybe bedtime needs to be moved up to, what, twenty hundred? Twenty-one hundred at the latest?”
Brantley chuckled. “Keep it up, smart-ass.”
Reese smiled in the dark, loving the sound of Brantley’s laughter. He’d never really paid much attention to someone else’s laughter or their smile. He had noticed, with Brantley, they were both rare. He was quick to grin and chuckle when he was with those closest to him, those he trusted with his life, but in mixed company, they were nearly nonexistent.
“Four years,” Brantley clarified. “But it’s my alpha side that keeps me young.”
It was Reese’s turn to bark a laugh. When he’d mentioned earlier that he wasn’t submissive, he’d been joking. Of course, it was true. In this relationship, he didn’t see either one of them as the alpha. More equals. He suspected the same was the case for RT and Z, although Reese’s brother didn’t mind pretending otherwise to get a smile.
“What makes you think the brother’s our suspect?” Brantley asked, switching the tone of the conversation.
“I can’t put my finger on it. Makes it more difficult since I haven’t met him,” Reese admitted. Or seen him, for that matter. “But I didn’t get the vibe from Collins. I felt like something was off, but I didn’t get the impression he was cold enough to kill someone.”
“That or he’s a damn good actor. Could be he’s gotten away with it for so long it’s become second nature. He knows how to play those around him.”
“Could be, sure.” Reese had considered that, too. “No matter what, I think he plays a part.”
“You think they’re alive?”
That was a damn good question.
“I’m holdin’ out hope.” It was all he could do.
Based on JJ’s information, if they were correct in their suspicions, there were already twelve women who’d died at the hands of these men. And if Collins or his brother was responsible, it could be that Collins was warning them when he’d said the time was nearing.
“Why would Collins give us so much information?” Brantley grabbed his water bottle from the cup holder. “He basically told us we only had a few days to find them. If his brother is responsible, was that a warning?”
“Maybe he’s tired of coverin’ it up?”
“Or he’s taunting us,” Brantley muttered.
“You don’t think it’s the brother?”
Brantley glanced over, the whites of his eyes bright in the dark vehicle. “I don’t.”
“The detective then?”
“Yeah. I had that same itch when we talked to him, but it’s the details he provided that make me think he’s fascinated with these women. More so than worried. He’s focused on their appearances, not their backgrounds. He refers to them by their first name. Like he knows them. And while he’s the detective on the case, he insinuates himself into the case by pretending to be someone else. Why is that? That’s the part I just don’t get.”
“He wouldn’t need to dig into her background or get her history,” Reese said. “He already knows everything about her. If he’s the one who took her, it could be he pretended to be the officer because he’s worried someone saw him. Figures keepin’ a low profile in the area is the best for the time being.”
“Or they’re workin’ together,” Brantley mused.
Reese glanced behind them when headlights bounced off the interior of the vehicle.
Neither of them spoke as it approached and then passed, brake lights flashing as it turned into a driveway.
“That’s Collins,” Brantley noted.
They watched as the detective got out of his police-issued vehicle. He carried a couple of bags—looked to be fast food—and two Styrofoam cups. He didn’t look around as he bounded up the three front steps. Not a care in the world. Screen door opened, then the door, and he slipped inside, disappearing when the door closed behind him.
“Looks like dinner for two. Means the brother’s probably in there.”
Reese had to think it was possible Brantley was right.
Brantley’s cell phone rang, shocking the silence in the SUV.
“Hey, Trey,” Brantley greeted after hitting the button to take the call.
“How’s it goin’? Learn anything?”
“Not yet.” Brantley went on to explain how uneventful their stakeout was.
“I was wonderin’ how Collins managed to catch all these cases with so many other dicks in the department.”
Reese laughed. “By dicks, you’re referrin’ to detectives?”
“Take it how you wanna take it,” Trey said with a laugh.
Brantley clearly wasn’t enjoying the conversation. “What’d you find, Trey?”
“Whether by coincidence or intention, he’s always on scene first,” Trey noted. “At least in the three other cases we know about. Even when they called someone else in, Collins was there. He’s made a name for himself in this department as the guy who tackles the cases that involve little to no reason for disappearance.”
“Not a coincidence.”
“Definitely not. And it makes sense,” Reese told them. “He keeps the details to a minimum, probably blames it on a lack of information available. No similarities between the victims, nothing to tie them together except for the cell phones, which is why I don’t think it’s him. If he was the one snatchin’ these women, why leave behind something to taunt the police with? Collins would simply have them vanish so he could back the theory they’re not related. Just unfortunate random acts.”
Trey’s voice came through the speaker again. “Agreed. So I looked back at the crime scenes he worked at his previous precinct. When he was on a beat. Same deal there. Always the first on the scene, then keepin’ himself in the investigation by sharin’ as much information as possible with the detective assigned.”
“I assume that’s why he aimed high, got promoted to detective. He could manage them from a different angle, not chance someone finding out about his brother,” Reese said.
Brantley grunted, something that sounded like agreement. “Probably easier when he was assigned to a sector. He knew how to time it.”
“Exactly. But it’s the women from those old cases who caught my attention,” Trey said. “They disappeared at roughly the same times as the current set. All in groups of four over the period of a year.”
“Somethin’ catch your eye on the dates?” Reese asked.
“Yes. The months of their disappearance change, but they’re always taken on the seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth of the month. In that order. Those happen to be the days of the month the first four women were born, too.”
“He memorializing them?”
“Maybe. And the first woman’s body did turn up three hundred and forty-seven days after her disappearance. Every woman since has been the same.”
“OCD, perhaps? Not a memorial, a ritual?” Brantley theorized.
“Could be, sure.”
“And no one tied that together before?” Reese asked, looking over at Brantley.
“How could they? You’ve got the man responsible for their disappearances, and possibly their deaths, handling the cases.” Brantley directed his voice to the speaker. “Did he stay involved in the first cases?”
Trey was quick to answer. “According to the notes, yes. One of the detectives marked it down as questionable. Seemed put off by how nosy he was. Looked like Collins showed a significant amount of interest and it drew suspicions. Shortly thereafter, another woman went missing.”
“He was takin’ the heat off himself,” Brantley said. “Probably got a little too close when tryin’ to cover it up. Realized he had to do something to redirect. Do you think there’s a significance with those dates?”
Reese shook his head. “I don’t. I’m leanin’ more toward it being a tradition he’s set for himself. A way to remember the others by.”
“Or a goal,” Trey said. “He has those dates set in his mind, which gives him something to look forward to. Not sure how he selects a month, though. The disappearances aren’t spaced perfectly.”
Reese sighed. Just another thing they didn’t know for certain.
“You at home?” Brantley asked Trey.
“No. Still here at HQ. JJ and Baz are upstairs, pullin’ more information. Figure if y’all are pullin’ a late night, we will, too.”
“Well, keep at it, Trey. I think you’re on to something,” Reese told him. “Let us know as soon as you find anything else.”
“Will do.”
The call disconnected.
“He’s comin’ out of his shell quickly,” Reese told Brantley.
“Just wait. My brother might be reserved but he knows how to get shit done.” Brantley reached over, squeezed his hand. “Why don’t you catch a couple hours’ sleep. I’ll keep an eye on the house.”
Because they were in it for the long haul, Reese knew he couldn’t argue, so he reclined the seat. Within seconds, he was out.