“Months?”
“Some men move fast,” she said snidely.
“Criminal record?”
“Public record, no. But I found some stuff, and let me tell you, this guy’s bad news. Cited several times for drunk and disorderly from the time he was eighteen. Arrested for inappropriate actions with a minor, then—”
“Details on that,” Brantley interrupted.
JJ tapped the keyboard, pulled up a document. “He was twenty-two; the girl he was with was sixteen. Charges were eventually dropped, and not long after, he applied for a marriage license.”
“Same girl?”
“Yep. The license was never filed, and everything was swept neatly away, kept out of the public eye.”
“Can you find out why?” Brantley feared the worst, but he hoped it was simply a matter of the girl—or her parents—coming to her senses. Or better yet, maybe his family intervened and forced him to toe the line for the sake of their political affiliations.
“Did y’all learn anything with Ava’s former employer?” JJ asked, fingers flying over the keys.
“Model employee. Fired because he stalked and harassed her at work.”
JJ’s gaze flew up to him. “Seriously?”
Brantley nodded. “I’m thinkin’ Magnus might be on to somethin’ here. I want to keep lookin’ into him. Find everything you can. See if there’s anything else they’ve buried.”
“Probably a lot,” JJ said softly.
Unfortunately, Brantley thought. Guys like Harrison Rivers preyed on innocents and managed to get away with it because they were slippery and had people who could clean up their messes.
If he was responsible for Ava’s disappearance, he wasn’t going to slip through this time. Not if Brantley had anything to say about it.
Chapter Eleven
MAGNUS WALKED INTOSPENCER’S, PAST THE ROWSof T-shirts depicting bands and pop fiction, beyond shelves of lava lamps and a variety of specialty lamps. The place was dark, with spotlights highlighting the variety of novelty items they sold. At the moment, there were only a couple of teenagers picking through items on a shelf, snickering to themselves.
He made his way to the center of the small store where an employee was standing at a register, folding a stack of shirts on the cluttered counter.
“Can I help you?” the young woman asked, setting her folded shirt aside and giving them her full attention.
Magnus noticed her nose and lip rings glittering from the spotlights above.
“Are you Jane Ross?” Trey asked, holding up his credentials.
Magnus decided he’d let Trey lead the charge because this was Trey’s job and the man probably knew the right questions to ask to get the information they needed. That and he looked damn good with the sidearm holstered to his side. There was something distinctly sexy about an armed and dangerous man.
“I am,” the woman confirmed.
Magnus figured she couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, maybe twenty-two years old. Her blond hair, streaked with purple, pink, and blue, was cut short and at an extreme angle that, along with a fringe of bangs, framed her small face. Her eyelids were coated in dark shadow and lined with a thick black liner, making the light blue irises pop against her pale skin. No more than five feet tall, maybe a hundred pounds, Jane Ross looked like a strong breeze could take her down.
“Trey Walker. I’m with the OTB Task Force. We’re here about Ava March.”
Magnus was watching Jane closely, so he caught the flash of concern in her eyes, understood exactly what she was feeling. Those who knew Ava understood the danger she was in because of her bastard of a husband.
“This is Magnus Storme,” Trey introduced.
“You’re the guy Ava talks about,” Jane noted.
Magnus nodded.
