“Perfect,” Gage said. “You wanna put ’em on?”
The kids worked together to get the glasses and scarf situated. Travis focused on breathing as he held Maddox.
“She needs arms,” Kade decided, wading over to the row of bushes along the back porch.
After a couple of minutes of deciding, and after snapping off a dozen or so twigs, he returned holding two, one twice as long as the other. He passed one to Avery before stabbing his into one side of the snow.
“We need to take a picture,” Kate informed him.
“Definitely pictures,” Gage agreed before snapping a few dozen as the kids posed with their attempt at a snowman … or rather, snowmommy, as Kate was referring to it.
Travis didn’t think this was a turning point—not by a long shot—but it was baby steps. And he had to think that one day they might be able to move forward.
As much as it still hurt, Travis knew that they needed this.
*
“It’s gettin’ worse,” Gage told Travis when he joined him in the living room a few hours later.
After their outdoor excursion, they had gathered the kids back inside, warmed them up with hot chocolate and vanilla wafers. Now the kids were doing their own thing, Maddox and Haden having gone down for a nap, Kate, Avery, and Kade working on bead jewelry at the little art table they’d set up in the corner.
“We’re lucky to still have power,” Travis said, motioning to the television.
On the screen, a reporter was talking about thousands being without power and water, urging people to stay home if at all possible. Austin had all but shut down in its attempt to accommodate. The schools that had shifted to virtual learning to keep kids home were now shutting down completely due to the power outages. Businesses were doing the same in an attempt to keep their employees safe.
They’d been lucky that they only had a few guests remaining at the resort, and they’d been able to cancel anyone coming in this week, but because flights had been cancelled in and out of the area, those remaining few were stuck. However, from the updates Gage was getting as they all rotated to manage the place, no one seemed to mind. As long as they maintained power, he figured. If that went out and the generators failed, he doubted the guests would be all that pleasant.
“I moved the buckets of snow into the kitchen,” Gage said. “Figured it might melt that way on its own.”
They had decided they would start melting snow to use for flushing the toilets since the water had gone out completely an hour ago. No one seemed to know when it would come back on.
“I could’ve helped,” Travis said, glancing over at him.
Gage shrugged, as though it was no big deal.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, something that had become the norm for them. The past month had proven painful for everyone as they attempted to come to terms with Kylie being gone. It wasn’t easy, that was for sure. The kids had nightmares, waking up crying for their mother often. Gage wasn’t getting much sleep either, lying in their bed by himself. Part of him understood why Travis couldn’t go in their bedroom. It certainly wasn’t easy, but Gage needed it. Being in there allowed him to remember that connection.
During daylight hours, it was a little easier. The kids had their good days and bad. Taking cues from the therapist, Gage and Travis were suggesting little projects for the kids. Drawing pictures of their favorite memories with their mom, hanging them on the refrigerator. Making craft projects—paper flowers, beaded bracelets—they planned to put on Kylie’s headstone the next time they went to visit.
They were dealing in their own ways.
It was still hard to believe it had been a month since the funeral. It felt like just yesterday. The only difference was it was getting easier to breathe, to make it a few hours without feeling the unbearable pain. Time would heal them, of that he was certain, but he doubted they would ever be whole again.
When it was clear Travis was going to remain glued to the television so he didn’t have to interact, Gage got to his feet.
“I’m gonna make SpaghettiOs for lunch. And I’ll scrounge up some candles just in case.”
Travis nodded. “I was thinkin’ I’d start a fire.”
And that was the extent of their conversation for most of the day. They spent the afternoon coloring with the kids, watching movies, and playing video games. From the outside looking in, it would appear they were a highly functioning family, but Gage knew it was all to keep from thinking about Kylie.
As usual, Travis was dealing with work, taking phone calls, checking in to ensure everything was being handled at the resort. Gage left him to it, figuring it was what Travis wanted and needed. He was keeping himself separate as much as possible, more so from Gage than the kids, and Gage was attempting to respect that.
But when Travis had disappeared after dinner, not coming back even after the kids were situated in front of the television and their iPads, Gage went to look for him.
He wasn’t surprised to see him sitting at his desk, staring blankly at the desk.
No. Not the desk. He was looking at a white envelope that sat neatly on top of his leather blotter.
Gage stepped into the room. “What is that?”
Travis’s eyes shot up to him as though he’d been caught doing something wrong. His hand immediately went to the envelope, covering it.
“Travis?” Gage watched his husband closely, saw the guilt on his face. “What’s goin’ on?”
“It’s a letter,” Travis finally said as Gage approached.
“From?”
Travis pulled his hand back, revealing the cursive writing on the front. “Kylie.”
Gage stopped, his legs locking. “What?”
Travis turned the envelope so Gage could read it. “Evidently, she wrote us a letter and left it with the attorney. Said we were to get it in the event of her death.”
Although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, he asked anyway. “What does it say?”
Travis shrugged. “I haven’t opened it. Can’t.”
Gage’s attention was locked on the standard white envelope and the familiar handwriting. He knew Travis didn’t mean it was physically impossible to open the letter, but rather he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Gage understood fully because, looking at it now, his first instinct was to back away from it.
Although he was a far cry from getting over what had happened, he felt stronger than he had in the beginning. That first week … he’d been a mess. And it had taken days for him to be able to breathe without tears clogging his throat. But suddenly all the progress he’d thought he’d made faded away, leaving him breathless and sad.
“Should we read it?” Travis asked, his voice scratchy and raw.
Gage looked at him, looked at the letter.
If he read a letter from Kylie … especially one from the grave…
Gage shook his head. He couldn’t do it.
“I was gonna tell you,” Travis said softly. “I’ve only had it for a couple of days. Wasn’t gonna open it without you.”
That wasn’t what Gage was worried about. Strangely, he believed Travis, knew the man wouldn’t keep something like that from him. Not unless it was to protect him.
“Do you want to open it now?” Travis repeated, the letter still sitting there between them.
“No,” he blurted, backing up. “No, I don’t.”
He felt Travis’s eyes on him as he left the room, leaving the letter and Travis behind him. Now he had to deal with a fresh wave of grief.
Chapter Fifteen
Saturday, February 20, 2021
Brantley woke on Saturday morning with a migraine hangover.
While he hated the feeling, he would take it over the actual headache any day. And last night’s had been brutal. It had hit him midafternoon and lasted well into the night.
Although he rarely tried to tie the headache back to a trigger since they seemed random and indiscriminate in their assault, he wanted to believe this one was brough
t on by the stress of the past week. The winter storm that had all but leveled central Texas had been brutal, leaving a mess in its wake.
There were still large portions of the area without power and water, and while they’d lost both for a short time, it appeared they were up and running despite the boil notice in effect.
Of course, the storm had completely derailed their investigation, mainly because it had shut down the town and the neighboring cities. Having been forced to lock down, they hadn’t been able to actively search for Juliet. The Sniper 1 Security team had been impacted, the storm taking a bite out of the Dallas area as well.
Now that it was over, he hoped they could get back on track, because while they hadn’t found her, Brantley had thought they were making progress. Thanks to JJ and Luca’s combined efforts, they’d made a connection between Juliet and a computer programmer by the name of Samuel Aldering. It wasn’t a huge breakthrough, but they were able to track him down and learned Juliet had had an affair with the man, something good ol’ Sammy wasn’t proud of, obviously. And thanks to some blackmail on Juliet’s part, Sam had helped her to hack into a few camera feeds and a phone.
The information wouldn’t necessarily lead to them finding her now, but it did fill in some of the holes and answered a few questions.
“You awake?”
Brantley rolled over toward the sound of Reese’s voice. He offered a small smile as an answer.
“How’re you feelin’?”
“Like I was run over by a truck. The headache’s gone, at least.” But that meant he would be moving slowly, his body’s natural response as it tried to avoid doing something that might bring the pain back.
Reese took a seat on the edge of the bed on the opposite side.
“And everything else? Texas no longer at a standstill?” Brantley prompted.
“They’re openin’ most everything. Said the roads are clearin’ but it’ll take a couple of days over freezing to get rid of all the ice.”
At least there was an end in sight.
“You up for some breakfast?”
Brantley grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. Eggs, bacon, pancakes?” he asked hopefully.
Reese chuckled. “The works, huh?”
“Yep.”
“All right.” Reese stood. “Why don’t you grab a shower now that the water’s back on. I’ll start cookin’.”
Twenty minutes later, Brantley joined Reese in the kitchen. The bacon was in the oven, scrambled eggs piled high on a plate, and Reese was flipping a pancake at the stove.
“Coffee’s made.”
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he said as he grabbed a mug and headed for the coffee maker.
“You can love me all day long, but you’re still doin’ the dishes,” Reese retorted.
“My pleasure,” he said at the same time his phone rang. He took a sip of his coffee and hit the button to answer the call, immediately changing it to speaker. “Walker.”
“I don’t wanna get your hopes up, but there’s a good chance we know where she is,” Z said, his tone a bit urgent although it was obvious he was attempting to hold back.
Setting the mug on the counter, Brantley stared down at the phone. “Where?”
“It’s not one-hundred-percent vetted, but it’s the second tip we’ve received in a few hours, so I think there’s reason to be optimistic.”
“Where, Z?” he demanded.
“I’ll tell you under one condition.”
Brantley could feel his face heat, his frustration growing.
“You and Reese have to stay put until RT gives you the go-ahead.”
“That’s not the deal,” he argued, realizing too late that he wasn’t going to get the information.
“Look. I get that you and my brother are renegades and you’re ready to beat feet if there’s even a remote possibility you’ll find this woman, but we have to be careful in how we handle this.”
“I know you mean well,” he said, his voice low, anger palpable, “but I don’t need anyone tellin’ me how to do my job, Z. I’ve been on missions far more sensitive than this.”
“And what’d you do before you went on those missions?” Z countered, his irritation evident.
Brantley’s anger cooled almost instantly. “Touché.”
“It’s all in the planning and recon. You know that.” Z exhaled slowly. “The objective is to capture her, is it not?”
Capture or kill. Brantley didn’t really give a shit what happened to her. Rather than tell Z he was having homicidal thoughts, he said, “Of course.”
“Then our best bet is to chill until we can get eyes on her. RT’s sendin’ a couple of agents down for some recon. And no, before you try to nail me to the wall, he’s not takin’ over. He’s doin’ his due diligence. When the time comes, he’s agreed to let you go in and get her.”
Brantley didn’t bother to tell him the same agreement had already been made between him and Travis. Some things were better left unspoken.
“Where’s she at, Z?” he asked again.
“I’ve changed my mind. I think it’s best I sit on this for the time being. Like I said, if it’s vetted, you’ll be the first to know.”
Before Brantley could lose his shit, Z disconnected the call. It took effort not to throw the damn thing through the plate-glass window. Instead, he planted his hands on the counter and focused on breathing.
“If it’s valid, he’ll give us the information,” Reese said, sounding far too reasonable.
Brantley bit back the retort. It wouldn’t do any good to pick a fight with Reese.
“I’m just glad there’s a good chance we’ll end this soon,” Reese added.
“You think we should tell Travis?” Brantley picked up his coffee, forced his shoulders to unknot.
Reese turned around, holding the plate of pancakes. “No. He knows we’re lookin’. Once we have a definite, we’ll loop him in.”
Christ Almighty. Why did he have to be so fucking rational?
“Keep it up and your headache’ll come back.”
Brantley glared at Reese but walked around to the other side of the island. He took another sip, sat on a stool, and shifted his head side to side.
“You’re right. We’ll sit on it until we know for sure.”
Reese placed the pancakes beside the plate of eggs then retrieved the bacon from the oven. Once it was all set out, he handed Brantley an empty plate, took one for himself.
“There’s somethin’ else you should probably know about,” Reese said, his tone hesitant.
Brantley lifted his head. Slowly.
Reese was looking down at the counter, rather than meeting his gaze.
Tension knotted Brantley’s shoulders. He already knew he was not going to like whatever it was.
“Spit it out, Tavoularis.”
“Travis has been in touch with Max Adorite.”
Brantley schooled his expression. “About?”
Reese looked up, cocked his head, and gave him the look that said, Think about it, dummy.
Brantley knew plenty about Maximillian Adorite, infamous for his role as the head of the Southern Boy Mafia. He’d done a significant amount of research on the man and his organization, learning everything he could. Admittedly, his initial interest hadn’t been because of the organized crime family’s business dealings. No, Brantley had been curious about Madison Adorite, the woman Reese had been almost engaged to. He’d actually learned very little about the woman but more than he cared to about the family.
“Max has done some favors for Travis in the past,” Reese said.
“I’m sure I don’t want to know what those favors are.”
“Probably not. Nor do I.”
“Bein’ that he’s a mob boss, I’m sure Max Adorite calls in favors, too, does he not?”
“Of course. And I’m sure Travis has paid out a few of his own over the years. But they’re close. Closer than most people probably realize.”
As close as you
and Madison were? Brantley didn’t voice the question, but he knew it would ping around in his head for a while after this conversation was over.
“I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that there’s a good chance Juliet Prince’ll never be found.”
Brantley narrowed his eyes on Reese. “Are you tellin’ me she’s dead?”
Reese quickly shook his head. “No. I think we’ll get eyes on her at some point. I just don’t think there’ll be anything left when we move in.”
“So what you’re tellin’ me is Travis is gonna need that alibi he mentioned? To keep him in the clear.”
Reese’s expression turned serious. “I think there’s a good chance we all will.”
Later that afternoon, Brantley slipped out, using the excuse that he was stopping by his parents’ house to check in.
Granted, he did that because he couldn’t bear to lie to Reese, but once that was done, he headed for Alluring Indulgence Resort. As had been the case the last couple of times he’d stopped by there, Brantley was greeted with friendly waves and greetings. He figured they were getting used to seeing him, which got him thinking about how many times he’d been there, but never once had it been by invitation.
Rather than go straight to Travis’s office, which was his ultimate destination, he made a couple of stops, talking with Kaleb and Sawyer, checking to see how they’d fared through the storm. He considered chatting with Gage, but when he stopped by the small office the man had commandeered as his own, he found it empty.
That left him with no more excuses to put off seeing the man of the hour.
When he knocked on Travis’s door, he was met with a less-than-friendly, “What do you want?”
Opening the door, he stepped inside. It would’ve been easy to ask Travis if he had a minute, but Brantley didn’t care whether he did or not. As far as he was concerned, Travis was going to make time to talk, because this particular topic couldn’t be put off.
Alibi (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 5) Page 14