Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,2
on Lauren,” she said, her tone clipped and anxious. “We know she vanished into thin air back in 2011.”
“Okay.”
JJ pivoted to face him. “That’s the problem. That’s all we know, Brantley.”
“Which is why we’ve decided to take on the case.”
Her green eyes were pleading as they stared up at him. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to unearth information on someone who’s just gone.” She gestured toward her desk. “That’s why I was lookin’ through some of the other files, hopin’ to find something that has more for us to go on.”
“Chances are, they wouldn’t be cold if there’d been more to go on, JJ.”
She huffed. “I know.”
Brantley leaned his hip on the desk. “Unless we catch a current case, we’re startin’ with this one. Lauren Tyler’s from here. From our hometown. We owe it to her and her family to find her. Bring her home.”
“And if we can’t?” She sounded desperate.
“We can,” he stated firmly. “One way or another, we’re gonna get closure for Lauren.”
JJ sighed. “You’re right. I know you are. I’m just… I guess I’m overwhelmed. I’m used to a definitive end goal.”
“Finding her is a definitive end goal.”
Another sigh, this one reflecting her frustration. “No. I mean … a structured path. Some sorta guideline. Hackin’ a system, breakin’ through firewalls, creatin’ back doors. That’s what I’m good at. Findin’ clues … not so much.”
“Good thing you’re not doin’ this by yourself then.”
JJ rubbed her fingertips on her forehead.
“It’s gettin’ late,” he told her. “You should go home, get some rest. We’re not supposed to meet up until tomorrow night.”
Another sigh, this one more resigned than anxious. “Fine. I’ll go home.” She marched to her desk, grabbed her car keys and cell phone. “Where’s Reese?”
“He said he’d be over later.”
JJ’s eyebrows hopped. “Sounds kinky.”
Shaking his head, Brantley planted his hand on her back, directing her toward the door. “Nothin’ about that sounded kinky.”
“Maybe not. But you should see the images I’ve got in my head right now.”
“JJ.”
She laughed, stepping out into the night. “Hey. Let me have my fantasies, Walker.”
“Only because I can’t stop you.”
“No, you can’t.”
After locking the barn, Brantley walked JJ around the house to her SUV, opened her door, waited for her to get inside.
“Go home. Enjoy what’s left of your time off. Because once we get started, you’ll probably wish you had more of it.”
She smiled. “I hope so.”
Brantley huffed a laugh. “You would. Go home, JJ.”
“I’m leavin’. Have a good night. And make sure you do everything I wouldn’t do.”
He closed her door, stepped back, then watched JJ do a quick K-turn to head toward the road. When her taillights disappeared into the darkness, Brantley went inside. Before making his way to the bathroom, he shot Reese a quick text, letting him know he was home.
Without waiting for a response, he headed for the shower.
***
When the text came in, Reese glanced at his phone, grinned like an idiot.
“Gettin’ in the shower,” he read aloud, thinking about Brantley naked and wet, waiting for him.
Sure, there was that anxious feeling he’d grown familiar with. The one that came on when he thought about the fact he had it bad for a man when he’d never even considered the idea of being with a man before Brantley. But he pushed that aside because it wasn’t helpful, focused on the other feelings he got from the idea. Needless to say, there was an excitement that burned just beneath his skin, made him hot from the inside out when he so much as thought about Brantley.
Damn good thing he was pulling down the man’s driveway, having just passed JJ’s little SUV out on the main road. Reese knew from experience the front door would be unlocked, Brantley’s way of encouraging him to come in and join him.
Truth was, it was what Reese had been looking forward to all damn day. Hell, all damn week. While Travis Walker had essentially fired him from Walker Demolition as a way of urging—which in Travis’s book translated to shoving—him in the direction of the task force Brantley was heading up, Reese was sticking around until his replacement was fully up to speed. It hadn’t been quite two weeks since the governor propositioned them with the idea, a week since Brantley told the governor he was all in. At that point, Reese had officially turned in his notice with Travis, offering two weeks to train his replacement. He figured by the end of the next week he