“Toby’s a grown man,” Reese said, his tone smooth and even. “I’m sure he’s figured out how to hide from both the law and this guy.”
Bythis guy, Brantley knew he was referring to the owner of the Red Room Revue. Thanks to Reese doing some research during the drive there, they’d learned his name was Johnathan Hartwood. His record was a mile long and likely growing by the second based on his history. Not only was he in the drug-selling business, he’d also dabbled in human and arms trafficking as well as protection rackets. From all accounts, he was your run-of-the-mill, wanna-be mafioso, only without the clout and backing.
Brantley’s phone rang, so he hit the button to take the call.
“Walker,” he greeted.
“Hey, boss.” Slade’s voice came through the speaker, the sound drawing Tesha’s attention, her head appearing between the front seats.
“What’s up?”
“So we just left the club,” he said with that laid-back drawl that made Brantley believe the guy didn’t have a care in the world.
“Did you talk to the girlfriend?”
“Serendipity. Yeah. Not much help on that front. She hasn’t seen him since everything went down with her boss. The night he got arrested. She did say that Toby had somethin’ goin’ with her boss. She didn’t know much about it. Said it had to do with the travel agency Toby owned.”
Frowning, Brantley glanced over at Reese. He did not like the sound of that. Based on Reese’s pinched expression, he didn’t either.
“You need us to do anything else?” Slade offered.
“Nah. Thanks for that. We appreciate the help.”
“Anytime. Just holler.”
“Will do. See y’all on Monday and tell Evan thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
The call disconnected, and Brantley glanced over at Reese again. His expression had evened out, but he looked as though he was lost in thought.
“What’s on your mind?”
Reese’s eyebrow cocked. “What?”
“Where’d you go there, Tavoularis?”
“Just wonderin’ what the hell he was doin’ workin’ with Hartwood. Why the fuck would he get himself mixed up in that?”
“Maybe he didn’t have a choice,” Brantley suggested.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Again, Reese seemed to slip away in his head, so Brantley drove the rest of the way home in silence. It wasn’t until he reached the Coyote Ridge town limits that he spoke up again.
“You wanna grab a bite to eat?”
“Unless you’re cravin’ somethin’ specific, I’ve got a coupla steaks thawin’ at the house.”
“I’m always cravin’ somethin’ specific,” Brantley told him, sliding his hand along Reese’s arm, which was draped over the center console.
Reese chuckled softly. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“Damn right I am,” he replied, his eyes on the road, his thoughts already on getting Reese naked. “Are you complainin’?”
Reese’s fingers brushed Brantley’s thigh. “Not even a little.”
With a smile on his face and anticipation burning in his veins, Brantley pushed his foot to the floor. He needed to get this man home. ASAP.
