“Still bitter, boss?” JJ muttered as she got up from her chair.
“I’ll get my computer,” Reese announced, grateful Brantley didn’t take the bait. The last thing they needed was a heated discussion about how the governor had used them only to abuse them later.
As far as Reese was concerned, they needed to let bygones be bygones. Under the umbrella of Sniper 1 Security, the new setup was something that would work for them. It gave them more leeway, albeit without the immunity and means.
“You bringin’ that back in here?” JJ called from the conference room.
Reese shook his head but didn’t look back.
While he understood JJ’s reasons behind creating a room that would allow them to work as a team, he couldn’t bring himself to stay in there, and he doubted he’d ever be able to. He’d had a similar reaction to the small office used by Walker Demolition. He knew his behavior was attributed to being confined to a six-by-six concrete cell with no way out and only a sliver of a window that was too high up for him to see out of easily. Eighteen months in that hellhole, believing he’d been left for dead by his own country, Reese had damn near lost all hope. And to this day, confined spaces caused his heart to race.
“You all right?” Brantley asked, placing a hand on his shoulder when he joined Reese at the spare desk Reese had commandeered as his own.
“Fine.”
Based on the way Brantley was watching him, Reese didn’t think he believed him, but for now, he accepted it. Probably because they had more important things to deal with.
After all, they were now working alongside a ticking clock, and time, no matter how endless it seemed, was quickly running out.
*
Brantley didn’t hover, but he kept aneye on Reese as the team got situated at their desks while Holly got the computer hooked up to the wall monitor. Although Reese hadn’t out and out told him about his claustrophobia, Brantley had picked up on it. He knew it was difficult for Reese to be in confined spaces, and the smaller the space, the worse it was for him.
“I just got the information from Rhonda,” JJ was saying as she came down the stairs, her attention on the iPad in her hand.
He shot one more look at Reese, saw he was pulling himself together, so he opted to move forward.
“I hope everyone’s ready to work today because this is what we do,” Brantley informed them as he waited for the information to be projected on the monitor.
Elana was already at the project screen, pulling up a whiteboard page so she could start taking notes.
Brantley glanced at JJ when she looked up after skimming her iPad. “What do we have?”
“Very little,” she said. “But I do have a phone number for the detective assigned to the homicides.”
“Call him,” Brantley commanded, grabbing his coffee mug.
Elana shifted gears, removing the whiteboard from the screen and pulling up the phone system.
While JJ and Elana prepped for the video call, Brantley scanned the room, taking in his current team. He liked the size of this crew, he decided. Four teams in total, with Baz being an extra to move around as they needed, while JJ and Luca formed a fifth, handling their share of tasks from behind a computer screen. In times like this, it would allow them to span out, divide and conquer, if you would.
“Detective Mathis,” JJ said into the phone receiver, “I’m going to engage video conferencing. I’ve got Brantley Walker, along with his task force, here with me.”
He couldn’t hear what the detective said to that, but a minute later, a stout redhead with unruly hair, skeptical green eyes, and a beard that hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time appeared on the large monitor hanging on the wall. He did not seem impressed by the interruption to his morning.
“Detective,” Brantley greeted. “I’m Brantley Walker with the Off the Books Task Force.”
Detective Mathis’s gaze scanned the faces behind Brantley, but he didn’t respond.
Brantley continued. “We received a call from Governor Greenwood this mornin’ regardin’ a missin’ person who may or may not be connected to two homicides you’re currently workin’.”
Although the detective’s pale face remained passive, Brantley noticed something shift in his eyes. He didn’t appreciate someone stepping on his toes, as Brantley was no doubt doing now. Brantley understood the feeling all too well, and if he had it in him to care about someone else’s feelings, he might’ve apologized. Unfortunately, that would get them no closer to finding the missing person; therefore, he would refrain from doing so.
“Can you bring us up to speed?” Brantley requested, doing his best to phrase it as a question rather than a demand.
The man on the screen didn’t say anything, nor did it appear he was going to, so Brantley decided to nudge him along.
All social niceties escaped him as frustration filled him. “Mathis, the governor’s hired my team to look into this case; therefore, I expect your cooperation. I’m not here to step on your toes, but I will if I have to. Give me details, Detective. Start with who and when.”
