They didn’t trust Brantley? Or they didn’t trust Travis?
“Why’d Reese share this with you and not me?”
“He calls me every coupla days, fills me in. Most of the time it’s nothin’, but he seems upbeat about this one. Said it’s worth pursuin’.”
Travis had more questions—like when were they going to get confirmation?—but he couldn’t force words past the lump in his throat.
“I think he uses it as an excuse to check up on you and Gage, see how y’all are doin’.”
Reese could’ve called him if he really wanted to know. Then again, Brantley and Reese weren’t high on Travis’s list of people he cared to talk to these days. The conversations they did have were necessary, nothing more.
His father looked at him, those blue-gray eyes wary. “I know you wanna blame those boys for what happened, but we both know it ain’t their fault.”
Rationally Travis knew that, sure. But he wasn’t doing a lot of rational thinking as of late. And it was just easier to lay blame than it was to figure out what his next move should be. He had honestly thought offering a reward would work. He’d thought for sure someone knew exactly where Juliet Prince was and the enticement of money would have them reporting it. That hadn’t been the case.
“Does Gage know about this new lead?”
He watched his father, seeing the answer long before the words came out.
“You kept him in the loop but not me?”
Curtis started rocking in the chair again, his gaze sliding out over the yard. “He asked me about it. I didn’t offer.”
“But he’s known what’s been goin’ on?”
Clearly his father thought that rhetorical because he didn’t respond.
Travis stared out into the yard, the sky already dimming as night descended.
“They won’t stop until they find her,” Curtis finally told him.
He didn’t reply immediately, choosing his words carefully. When he did, he kept his voice low, even. “I don’t want her in prison, Pop. I want her in the fuckin’ ground. I don’t even care if she’s breathin’ when she goes in, I’ll shovel the dirt myself.”
Based on Curtis’s expression, that wasn’t as much of a shock to his father as he’d thought it would be.
“You and me both, son.”
Chapter Sixteen
Baz finished typing up his notes andpushed back from his desk. He stretched his neck, moving his head side to side in an attempt to alleviate the tension building. It had been a long day. Hell, a long week, and while he’d spent most of the past few days sitting in his apartment with no water and the electricity flashing intermittently, it hadn’t felt like a vacation. Partly because he’d been stranded with JJ and they weren’t exactly on good terms.
Or rather, they weren’t on the good terms he preferred them to be on. They were getting along just fine. Friends, even. They could talk and joke, but there was still a tremendous gap between where they were now and where they had once been.
As he pushed to his feet, Baz’s stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t had lunch. He’d spent the majority of the day catching up on a few of the stragglers coming into the tip line. Nothing worth noting, but it had required a follow-up to make that assessment.
He ventured up to the loft, following the sound of busy fingers on a keyboard. When he reached the top of the staircase, he found JJ furiously typing away.
Baz cleared his throat, wanting to alert her to his presence. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination or not, but these days JJ seemed jumpier than usual. Ever since New Year’s.
When she turned her head slightly, he asked, “How long you think you’ve got left?”
Since JJ had yet to buy another vehicle, partly delayed because of the weather, Baz was still driving her to and from the office, which meant he stayed until she was ready to go.
JJ glanced over her shoulder, frowning. “What time is it?”
“Six thirty.”
“Holy shit.” She pushed back from her desk. “Seriously?”
