He glanced around the room. “If you find somethin’, you’ll let Baz and JJ know. They can determine at that point who and how it’ll be handled. Charlie, you’ll work with Baz to help with some of the footwork.” Brantley looked at Baz. “If she needs someone with her, you’ll go.”
“Not a problem,” Baz agreed.
“As for everyone else, I want us focused on the few cold cases we’ve kept.” He looked around the room. “And if anyone needs anything, just holler. We’ll do what we can to help out.”
“Also, once you get settled in here”—Reese motioned around the space—“you can determine what setup works best. Rearrange as needed.”
Brantley watched the new hires’ reactions, attempting to gauge them.
He liked that they had a diverse group of people, and he was curious to see how it played out.
Later that afternoon, Brantley found himself back at HQ. Not because he particularly cared to be but because all those diverse people he’d hired? Well, they were now in a tizzy—Reese’s word—over how they were going to set up the barn.
He got the feeling it had occurred because Allison Bogart had surprised them today, coming in shortly after their morning meeting to let them know she was ready and able to work, having been released from her temporary position she’d been in. While he got the feeling Allison was going to be a tremendous asset to the team in the long run, he realized she was going to be the point of contention in the beginning. Starting with the layout of the barn.
Truth was, Brantley didn’t give two shits what they did, where they sat, but he did not want to hear bitching and moaning about furniture placement when they had far more important things to deal with.
He stood beside Baz, both of them hovering near the exit while Reese, brave and foolish man that he was, decided to step forward.
Across the room, Slade looked up, watched with what appeared to be curious amusement as Reese headed into the fray.
“There’s a reason I never wanted to work in an office,” Baz muttered at his side.
Brantley knew the feeling.
When Baz’s phone rang, he cursed but did what any smart man would do. He stepped outside to answer, leaving Brantley to fend for himself.
Brantley ventured over to Slade’s desk, perched on the edge, and watched along with the other man. “You ever see anything like it?”
“My office has been my car for most of my adult life,” Slade noted, glancing up at him.
“Fair enough.”
Slade laughed. “But no, I haven’t.”
For some reason—God only knew what—Becs and Allison were snipping at one another, arms flailing in an animated fashion. Something about a desk, a corner, not enough light.
Brantley watched as Reese walked right up to the group, barked a couple of commands for them to shut up, and managed to get every single person’s attention without having to raise his voice too much.
No reason to deny it, the man was fucking hot, and Brantley’s body stirred at the sight. He’d known from the beginning that Reese was a complex man. While he appeared to be laid-back, non-confrontational, and all that, beneath was a steely reserve most would never see.
He watched, fascinated as Reese took control, laid out options, and waited for the others to get on board.
They did.
“It might be wise to keep him here for a while,” Slade muttered with a chuckle.
“Or better yet, wiser if all of us were out in the field.”
“Good point.”
The ruckus started to build again, drawing Brantley’s attention. While he didn’t mind watching Reese work, there was only so much he could handle. Rather than wait for Reese to rein it in again, he raised his fingers to his lips and whistled. The high-pitched noise cut right through the arguments and debates, all eyes shifting to him.
“When I come back in tomorrow mornin’,” he told them as he stood tall, “I expect this shit to be worked out. If it’s not, I’ll make the seating arrangements, and trust me, you won’t like it.”
He heard Slade chuckling behind him as he headed for the door.
Chapter Five
