Monday, November 9, 2020
“Donuts and coffee,” JJ said. “Breakfast of champions.”
“Coffee, yes. Donuts, no,” Baz insisted. “Tacos are a key morning staple.”
“Key?” Reese snorted. “Coffee’s the staple. Take or leave the rest.”
Brantley Walker looked up from his desk at the three members of his task force. Well, technically, it was Governor Greenwood’s task force, but Brantley was the man in charge, overseeing the work, which involved solving missing persons cases, both cold and current, so he figured he had the right to call it his. The very group formed by a horrific ordeal that had directly affected Brantley’s family when his five-year-old cousin was abducted by a crazed bitch hell-bent on revenge. The team had been officially inaugurated when they solved a decade-old case of a missing girl from their hometown of Coyote Ridge, Texas.
It had been nearly two months since Kate Walker was snatched from a field trip at the state capitol, and during that time, they’d accomplished quite a bit, including solving three major cases, one of which had resulted from their digging into that cold case, but it counted as far as he was concerned. And the hub of their operation? A four-thousand-square-foot old horse barn that Brantley had repaired and converted back before he could’ve known any of this would happen. The barn, dubbed HQ, had gotten a few updates in recent months, including a new set of stairs leading up to the old hayloft and some furniture to make it usable.
Seeing his team there, all hard at work on a Monday morning—arguing about their breakfast preferences—made him smile.
Been a good couple of months, he would say.
And he had them to thank for it.
Jessica James, a.k.a. JJ, was his hacker extraordinaire. They’d grown up together, their friendship surviving the seventeen years he’d served in the US Navy and her on-again, off-again relationship with the town douchebag. Although she was pretty with her auburn hair and light green eyes, the woman’s wit was her most charming feature. Plus, she was a whiz with a computer. Didn’t matter what they needed, JJ could ferret it out of the deepest, darkest corners whether by weeding through data or a little cyber B-and-E. She was damn good at what she did. Oh, and JJ found old cases daunting and she had a penchant for donuts.
Sebastian Buchanan was the newest member, an APD detective who’d been brought in during the last case. When the governor’s daughter had gone missing, Baz was the one who stepped in to handle for the Austin Police Department. Blond hair, blue eyes, chiseled everything, the guy would’ve come off as one of those uppity frat boys if it wasn’t for his laid-back charm. Since Brantley tended to do things his own way, he figured it was good to have Baz there to keep them walking that fine, legal line. The guy claimed he had a problem with authority, but it was his willingness to adapt to the situation that had made Brantley bring him on board permanently.
And last but certainly not least: Reese Tavoularis. Six feet, five inches of prime sin, Reese was Brantley’s partner in every sense of the word. The man he’d fallen in love with, the man he now shared a bed with every night. He was the one Brantley trusted his life to, the guy he wanted to have his back from now until the day he took his last breath. It had been a rocky transition to this place in their lives, mostly due to the fact that, before Brantley, Reese had never been with a man, much less fallen in love with one. Brantley was honored to hold that title.
Now that they were all there and the day was underway, Brantley was ready to tell them what their next assignment was. An important task they had to knock out before they could do much of anything. Their objective? Decide on a fucking name for their task force. He hoped like hell at least one of them could come up with something, because if they had any hope of establishing a reputation with law enforcement agencies across the state, they had to be something other than “the governor’s task force.”
“First order of business,” Brantley said, getting to his feet.
“Breakfast?” JJ replied. “Yes, please. But not donuts. Unless they’re Round Rock Donuts. But that’s too far, so…”
“I nominate tacos,” Baz chimed in, leaning back in his chair and propping his booted foot on his desk.
“You always nominate tacos,” JJ grumbled. “What’s wrong with sausage biscuits?”
“What do you want, Tavoularis?”
“Already ate. Omelets and bacon this morning. Just need more coffee.” Reese got to his feet, looked at Brantley. “Want some?”
Unable to turn down more caffeine, Brantley nodded, tossed back what was left in his mug, then passed it to Reese.
“Would it hurt you to make a couple extra omelets in the mornin’?” JJ whined with a smile. “The rest of us gotta eat, too.”
“Cereal’s a healthy part of a day, but this ain’t about breakfast,” Brantley told her, cutting them off before they could take this down the rabbit hole.
“You suck,” JJ said, tacking on a “boo” for good measure.
Brantley rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile. “We need a name.”
“Um…” Baz frowned, scratched his forehead. “Brantley’s not good enough?” Baz asked, deadpan.
JJ laughed. Proving she thought the six-foot, one-inch Adonis was hot, because his jokes were certainly lackluster.
“Not for me. For the task force.”
“Why?” Baz asked, holding up the badge they’d been given as proof they were technically law enforcement. “I figure this is good enough.”
“Maybe, but either we come up with a name or we’re nothin’ but glorified PIs.”
“Like Magnum,” JJ said.
“Who’s Magnum?” he asked, knowing he would regret it.
“You know. Magnum, P.I. Ex-Navy SEAL turned private investigator? Originally played by the uber-sexy Tom Selleck? Now by the delicious Jay Hernandez?” JJ sighed when he simply shook his head. “Come on, Brantley. Don’t tell me you don’t watch any TV.”
Baz barked a laugh, pinned his eyes on Brantley. “You really are our very own Magnum.”
“He doesn’t,” Reese said, bringing Brantley his coffee. “Watch TV.”
“Thanks.”
“Yep.” Reese glanced over at JJ. “Unless it’s the news, or somethin’ I happen to have on, he doesn’t watch.”
“Surely you’re makin’ headway there, Tavoularis.” She cocked an eyebrow at her empty coffee mug.
“Might I remind you, we don’t have a couch,” Reese said, “so our living room’s useless.”
“Where’s your TV?” Baz asked, his brow furrowed as though he couldn’t believe it was even possible for someone not to have one.
“In the bedroom,” Brantley said, looking directly at JJ. “And there’re far more important things to do in the bedroom than watch TV.”
JJ’s eyebrows bounced. “So I’ve heard. Maybe I could take a peek sometime. See what all the fuss is about.”
Brantley narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, woman.”
A laugh was her response.
“Back on topic,” Reese said, his face an interesting shade of crimson.
“Yes. Task force name.” Baz cleared his throat, looked down at his desk. “Please, God, let us get back on topic.”
Brantley smirked. “So? Suggestions?”
“Well, we’ve already decided Five-O is out of the question,” JJ said.
He found it amusing that there was a hint of a question in that statement. “We’re not gonna be Five-O.”
“Fine.” She huffed. “What number is Texas?”
“Twenty-eighth to join the union,” Reese noted.
“Paid attention in Texas History, did you?” JJ teased.
Reese winked.
“Nothing remarkable about Two-Eight. Doesn’t have a ring to it,” Baz mused. “But we are the Lone Star State. Maybe we’re the Lone Star Task Force.”
“Next thing you know, we’ll be called the Lone Rangers,” JJ said. “No way.”
A buzzer sounded, signaling someone was at the door, drawing the conversation to a halt and all eyes in that direction.
“You expectin’ someone?” Brantley asked no one in particular.
“It’s Travis,” JJ said.
Brantley glanced back to where she’d projected the camera image onto the TV. Sure enough, the man was standing outside, holding a paper sack and likely his patience.
Reese headed for the door, unlocked it.
Travis Walker was one of Brantley’s many cousins. His daughter Kate’s disappearance was the first case they’d taken on, although it hadn’t been in an official capacity. However, it was the one that had resulted in the governor assigning a task force.
Brantley watched as Reese shook Travis’s hand, gestured the guy inside, and closed the door behind him.
“What brings you by?” Brantley asked, curious as to what would’ve drawn the man their way first thing on a Monday. Considering he owned and operated Alluring Indulgence Resort, he probably had more pressing issues to deal with.
“I brought tacos,” he said, holding up a white paper sack.
“Oh. My. God!” JJ launched herself up and raced over to him. “If you weren’t married, I’d kiss you right now.”
Travis chuckled. “Yeah. My husband and wife might get a little upset about that.”
“I know, right?” JJ grinned, snagged the bag, and trotted toward the kitchen.
Travis’s attention shifted to Baz, and it was then Brantley realized the true reason Travis had come by. He was here to scope out the new guy.
“Travis, meet our newest task force member. Former Austin PD Detective Sebastian Buchanan. Baz, meet Travis Walker.”
The two men shook hands.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” Baz said with a grin. “Mostly good.”
Travis chuckled. “If it’s all good, you know they’re lyin’.”
There was so much truth in that statement.
Although Travis had no authority over the task force, he was a silent member. His father’s friendship with the governor had played a part in the task force being formed, and Travis had vowed to assist from a financial perspective if necessary. He was a staunch supporter since it was his daughter who’d been kidnapped from the state capitol.
“How’s it goin’?” Travis asked, glancing around the space. “Looks official in here.” He peered over at Brantley. “I see you’ve got a couch.”
Brantley grinned. “Not in the house.”
“I’m lookin’ to change that,” Reese said.
Now that Reese had officially moved in, they were still trying to decide what to do with all the extra square footage in the house. Including the dining room and living room, which Brantley had never bothered to furnish. In his defense, he hadn’t needed furniture when it was just him. And for some reason, it offended Travis’s sensibilities that Brantley didn’t have somewhere to plant his ass in the living room.
“Well, I know a guy,” Travis said.
“You know all the guys,” Reese countered.
Travis chuckled. “Not all, but many.”
“We were just tryin’ to come up with a name for the task force,” JJ said when she returned, two foil-wrapped breakfast tacos in her hand. She passed one to Baz, then addressed Travis with, “Got any ideas?”
“What’re my choices?”
“We got nothin’,” Baz informed him.
“OTB,” Travis said easily.
“You down with OTB, yeah, you know me,” Baz sang, loud and off-key.
Brantley stared, confused.
“Christ. This guy doesn’t listen to music, either?”
“Not unless it’s country,” JJ stated. “Definitely not Naughty by Nature.”
Brantley shrugged off the peanut gallery, glanced back at Travis. “I’ll bite. What does it mean?”
“Off the books,” Travis explained as though it was obvious. “OTB keeps it simple.”
“And it sounds official-like,” JJ noted. “O. T. B. Hmm. Doesn’t suck.”
Seriously? They’d spent a couple of months introducing themselves as the governor’s task force and Travis Walker waltzes in here and gives them a name within thirty seconds of arriving?
Was there anything this guy couldn’t do?
“And it’ll be easy to add to the badge. Texas OTB,” Travis stated.
“And when someone wants us to explain it?” Baz asked.
Travis’s grin was slow. “You tell ’em it’s none of their damn business.”
Baz laughed. “I like this guy.”
“Everyone does,” Reese said under his breath.
“Now that you’ve scoped out the place, seen the new guy, and named the task force, what else you got for us?” Brantley asked Travis, putting him on the spot.
“I didn’t come by for any of those things. I actually came to tell you I got you some wings.”
Again, Brantley was stupefied. “What?”
“For lunch?” JJ asked, eyebrows lifted, hope radiating on her face.
“Is that all you ever think about?” Baz asked her.
JJ shrugged.
“Not food,” Travis clarified.
“You bought a plane?” Reese asked, clearly the smarter one.
“I did. Private jet. And a helicopter.”
“You’re shittin’ me.” Brantley stared, slack-jawed.
“I am not.” Travis held up his hands to calm Brantley before he argued. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while. They’re not just for you, but they are there if you need ’em. When you need ’em.”
Well, shit.
This was a hell of a way to start a Monday.
Travis hung around to chat with the team for a few minutes, then announced he was leaving.
“I’ll walk you out,” he offered, knowing Travis hadn’t simply stopped by to deliver breakfast tacos and the news about a private plane at their disposal.
Outside, the cool November morning breeze sent the leaves dancing down from the trees that surrounded the barn. The grass was brittle from the cooler weather, beginning to wither as it usually did this time of year.
“You consider puttin’ in a walkway?” Travis asked as they trudged through the soggy ground toward the house.
“On my list of enhancements,” he said snidely. “You know, bottom of the page, right after find all the missin’ people.”
“Smart-ass.”
Brantley smirked. “Family trait. I come by it naturally.”
“That you do.”
“So where’s your sidekick?” he asked, keeping the conversation casual.
“You mean my husband?”
Brantley grinned, tucked his hands in his pockets. “Live together, work together, play together. Figured y’all were closer than that, but yeah. Where’s Gage?”
Travis shrugged. “At the office, probably.”
Where Travis should’ve been, Brantley figured. And would’ve been if it weren’t for this detour.
They reached the back of the house, continued around to the side.
“Spill it, Travis,” he said curtly. “I know you’ve got another reason for bein’ here.”
As he expected, Travis didn’t argue. He wasn’t a man to make excuses for what he did or his reasons for doing them.
“Looks like you’ve settled in nicely.”
However, he wasn’t above beating around the bush, apparently.
“We have,” Brantley confirmed, pretending the small talk was necessary. “Not completely up to speed, but we’re gettin’ there.”
They stopped at the driveway, directly in front of the fancy blacked-out Cadillac Escalade that sat alongside the other vehicles parked there. It was Travis’s most recent acquisition. The man usually rolled around in his Chevy Silverado, like a third of the population of Coyote Ridge.
“I need your help.”
“You got it,” he said without a second thought. “What can I do?”
“Find Juliet Prince.”
The adamance in Travis’s tone wasn’t abnormal. Travis Walker was one of those men who took control of the situation, manned the team from the front. He was used to being large and in charge.
Unfortunately for Travis, Brantley had spent too many years leading his SEAL team to take orders from anyone other than the top brass. And while many saw Travis as exactly that, Brantley did not.
“She’s in the wind,” Brantley said, keeping his tone level. “The FBI’s workin’ the case now.”
“They’re doin’ a shit job,” Travis said, his blue-gray eyes sparking with fire. “I want her found now.”
Brantley studied Travis’s expression, noticed the tension lines around his mouth and eyes. If he had to guess, Travis wasn’t getting much sleep these days.
“These things take time. You know that. They will find her, Trav.”
His lips pursed. “Not good enough.”
The anger rolling off the other man was palpable.
“Look,” Travis said, turning to face him fully. “I need help findin’ her. I was hopin’ you’d help.”
“You know I will,” he said quickly. “Of course I will, Travis.”
“Good.” Travis gave a curt nod. “Because I’d hate to have to convince JJ to come work for me.”
Brantley frowned, hearing a hint of a threat in his cousin’s voice. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. I’m not above usin’ money to get what I want, Brantley. You should know that about me by now.”
Before he could argue, Travis strolled around to the driver’s side of the SUV, climbed inside.
Brantley was still standing there as Travis drove down the long drive, heading back the way he’d come, when JJ came out to join him.
“Somethin’ wrong?” she asked, stopping at his side.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, glancing over at her. “You talk to Travis lately?”
Her dark eyebrows lowered. “No. Why would I?”
“Don’t know.”
“Brantley?”
Turning to face her more fully, he explained the conversation that had just taken place.
“Work for him?” She snorted. “Why in hell would I work for him? I mean, he’s a nice guy and I like him just fine, but I’m not all that into the kink he’s got goin’ on at that resort.”
“It’s your skills he wants,” Brantley told her.
JJ smiled, bringing her hand up and breathing on her fingernails before polishing them on her chest. “What can I say, B? I’m good like that.”
She was good like that. Brantley wouldn’t argue that point. But she wasn’t a hacker-for-hire.
“You’re worried about him?” JJ said softly, her humor disappearing.
“Yeah.” He was definitely worried.
The man who had just threatened him was not the Travis Brantley knew.
“Well, since you’re just standin’ around, holdin’ down the dirt, come help me.”
“With?”
“I brought a few things from home. For my desk.”
Shaking off the weird conversation with Travis, Brantley followed JJ over to her little hybrid SUV. She popped the hatch, motioned for the bag and the box.
“A few things, JJ? This looks like you’re movin’ in.”
Her laughter was enough to get his head back in the game.
“Quit complainin’, Walker. Just carry it.”
He did.
Ensuring she knew how put out he was the entire trek back to the barn.