“It’s irrelevant,” Brantley said before they could get off topic.“Whatever Meredith Prescott did or did not see wouldn’t pertain to Courtney at all.She wasn’t married to Max at the time.”
“It would if it meant bringing down a mafia boss,” Slade stated.“If this ends up being true and this woman did see the head of the Southern Boy Mafia kill someone—”
“She didn’t,” Decker barked, getting to his feet.
Brantley stared at the man, watching Decker’s fists clench and unclench at his sides.
The room went quiet, the only movement from Tesha as she stood quickly, moving directly in front of Reese.
“It’s cool, girl,” Brantley told her, reaching down to pet her head.
She relaxed somewhat, but all eyes, including hers, remained on Decker.
“Didn’t what?”Reese inquired.
Decker’s nostrils flared as he breathed slowly.“Meredith Prescott did not see anyone kill anyone.”
Watching him closely, Reese asked, “And you know this how?”
“Because I know,” he seethed.
Something had tripped the man’s trigger.One second he was sitting there bored, the next he looked as though fire was going to flame out through his nostrils.
“Elaborate,” Brantley instructed, eager to hear what the man had to say.
“No,” Decker stated firmly.“Not in front of…” He gestured toward the room.
Perhaps he was already on a hair trigger, but Decker’s belligerence and blatant disrespect set Brantley off.
Before he even knew he was reacting, he stood tall, bracing himself for a fight.“Bullshit.You had your chance to tell the fucking truth without an audience.You didn’t.So it’s high time you tell us everything.”He took a step toward Decker.“And if you don’t, I’m gonna drag your ass outside and beat it outta you.”
Fuck.
Reese started to put a hand on Brantley’s arm but stopped himself.Had the team not borne witness to the standoff, he might have.The last thing they needed was a fight, but he wasn’t about to stand in Brantley’s way.Especially since he understood the man’s frustration.They’d been sent to New York City on a wild fucking goose chase and came up empty, and still no one had given them any answers.Hell, Reese hadn’t even gotten excuses out of his brother.
“The truth this time, Bromwell,” Brantley snapped, his attention jerking to Z.“That goes for you, too.”
Z started to get to his feet, but RT held him back with a rigid arm across his chest.
“You brought them into this when you sent them to New York,” RT told Z.“They deserve to know the truth.”
“What truth?”Baz asked, moving around the room to stand beside Brantley, as though facing off with Decker and Z.
Shit.Shit.Shit.
Standing tall, Reese positioned himself between them.“Obviously, there are details we don’t have.Which is the whole reason for this meeting.”He looked at Decker.“If you’ve got something pertinent to this case, we need to know what it is.”He looked at Brantley.“We’re gonna keep this civil.We have to.”
Brantley’s eyes narrowed, but a moment later, he nodded, his shoulders relaxing.
Reese exhaled his relief.The last thing he wanted was a knock-down, drag-out.Sure, it might be warranted, but the team did not need to be witnesses to it.
“Tell them,” Z hissed, relaxing in his chair.
Decker slowly sat down.He was silent for several beats before finally speaking, his tone cooler than before.“Kylie’s mother did not witness a mob hit.”
“You sound certain,” Evan said, resting his elbows on the desk.
“I am.”
