Brantley chuckled, although he had no idea what writer’s block was like.He’d never dealt with anything like it, and if he were lucky, he never would.
“You and Archer then,” Brantley told Simon.“The diner.”
“I’m game!”Archer shouted from the next room where he’d disappeared as soon as he was no longer needed.He got the feeling the guy really liked dogs.
“If they serve food, the guy’ll come runnin’,” Simon joked.
“He’s not wrong!”Archer added, his voice booming.
Simon turned to leave.“I’ll take the key down to Violet and meet y’all there.”
Brantley nodded, then followed Reese out of the room.
Archer got to his feet as they approached.“Mind if I hitch a ride with y’all?I left my Harley at the B and B.”
“Sure,” Reese told him as they headed for the front door.“You’ve got a motorcycle?”
Brantley listened to Archer talk about his Harley as they stepped outside, making their way to the truck.Tesha had an extra spring in her step, although Brantley got the sense she was trying to hide it.Part of her training, he figured.
Their conversation finally died off a few feet from the truck, so he figured it was the perfect opportunity to pick their brains before Simon joined them.
“What’re your honest thoughts about all that?”Brantley asked as he was climbing inside.
“You want my insight?”Archer said, buckling his seatbelt.
“Both of you, yeah.”
“As an outsider who doesn’t know the history, I think there’s a story there,” Archer answered.“I think it involves the Southern Boy Mafia and some corrupt FBI agents.”
“What about Meredith Prescott?”Reese asked.“Where does she fit in all this?”
“That one I don’t know.If she witnessed the hit, then I think it’s as simple as they want her to testify.”
“Isn’t there a statute of limitations?”Reese asked.
“Not on murder,” Brantley and Archer said at the same time.
Archer added, “But they’d have to want her pretty bad if they’re still stalking her family.It’s been fifteen years, and the Southern Boy Mafia hasn’t lost its stronghold on the territory.Not that I can tell, anyway.Surely they could’ve come up with something else to take them down.I mean, seriously.Max Adorite isn’t made of Teflon.”
Brantley grinned.He liked that analogy.
Expecting a chuckle from Reese, he looked over at him.
The man was quiet.Too quiet.
He drove toward the diner, trying his patience on for size.They lasted relatively well.Right up until he was turning the truck into the diner parking lot.
“Reese?”
“Hmm?”
“Where’d you go?”
He swallowed, then shifted in his seat, facing Brantley more fully.“There’s some stuff I haven’t mentioned.”
Brantley frowned.“About?”
“I honestly don’t know.Just some stuff the team uncovered back when we went to New York.”
