“Is there a reason for that?” Reese asked, looking over the details on the board.
“Above my pay grade, I’m afraid.”
Which meant he wouldn’t be sharing that information, even if he had it.
“Please have a seat,” Detective Mathis said, motioning toward the conference table.
“Thanks, but we’d rather stand,” Brantley said, not waiting for Reese to respond. “I prefer to run my investigations independently.”
“What he means is, he prefers not to skew his perspective with other people’s theories,” Reese clarified, clearly playing the nice guy. “But we’ll do our part to ensure you’re kept in the loop. We just came by to formally introduce ourselves, offer our assistance if you need it.”
Brantley could tell the detective wasn’t exactly impressed by their assertiveness, or their desire to maintain distance. However, this method was working for them, and until it failed him, Brantley had no intention of changing.
“Were your officers able to speak to Mrs. Hawkins?”
“Unfortunately, no.” The detective looked disappointed. “Mrs. Hawkins’s lawyer has advised us that any questions we might have should go through him. I had them ask her to come down here, but the lawyer politely”—he used air quotes—“refused. And until I have reason to believe she might have information, I have no grounds to bring her in.”
Brantley considered this, then nodded. “Then we’ll go speak to Mrs. Hawkins directly.”
Reese added, “We’ve got two investigators heading to the investment group’s office to speak to the secretary who called it in.”
Brantley turned to leave. As he was walking away, he heard the detective’s response: “I’m not sure they’ll give you much, if anything at all. We’ve had a couple of conversations with their public liaison, and he hasn’t been helpful.”
“Anyone else find it interesting that they’re hidin’ behind lawyers when a man’s life could hang in the balance?” Brantley muttered, not caring that no one heard him.
He didn’t bother waiting for Reese, knowing the man would smooth the waters with the detective. Reese was good at that, maintaining balance and not ruffling feathers. It was just one of the many things Brantley loved about him.
While Reese did that, Brantley stepped out of the building, dialed JJ’s number.
“Yes, boss?”
“Got anything?”
“We’re diggin’ in now. Trey and Evan just got to the ME’s office. Allison and Baz are at the investment company.”
“Have them talk to the secretary who reported Cedric Hawkins missing,” he instructed. “It looks as though the wife’s erected a wall of lawyers. We’re gonna have to get creative to get information.”
“I like creative,” she said with a soft laugh. “And I’ll let them know.”
“We’re gonna head to the Hawkins’s residence,” he informed her as he walked to his truck, then stopped in front of it. “See if we can sweet-talk our way into a conversation with the wife.”
“If anyone can do it, you can.”
Actually, Brantley knew Reese was the sweet-talker between them. He had the softer edges where Brantley’s were still rough and unrefined. They made a damn good team because of it.
“Hold on a minute, boss,” JJ said.
With the phone on speaker, Brantley glanced up to see Reese and Tesha strolling out of the building. Before joining him, Reese made a detour to a grassy area, clearly giving Tesha time to do her business.
“JJ’s got me on hold,” he explained when Reese looked confused as to the mumbling on the other end of the phone.
They listened while JJ and Luca spoke in what sounded like a different language. Of course, he was fairly certain it was English, but perhaps it was in code. A computer hacker code of some sort. Hell, they were using words he’d never heard before, all pertaining to information they were digging for online.
“You understand a word they’re sayin’?”
“Not a one,” Reese said with an amused grunt.
“Maybe you could loop us laypeople in, JJ. Translate, please,” Brantley suggested, hating to break up their little party.
