Chapter Twenty-Five
“We’re almost there,” Brantley told Atticus asthey threaded their way between a cluster of mesquite trees with low-hanging branches.
“Can’t say I’m disappointed,” Atticus huffed, grunting and cursing.
Brantley grinned.He couldn’t help it.Then again, he’d chosen this particular field because he knew it would keep them hidden from the road.Of course, they also risked encountering an animal determined to keep them out.So far, they’d been lucky, but the birds had already sensed their presence, so it wouldn’t be long before larger, more insistent wildlife figured it out.
“Do we know what we’re walkin’ into?”Atticus asked, slightly out of breath.
“All I know is the original owners use it as a deer lease.”
“When is deer hunting season?”
Brantley grunted.“Now.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded.
Atticus huffed.“Meaning, we might run into some hunters with guns?”
Brantley shrugged.That was the price of admission, he figured.
“When we came through earlier, I noticed fast food containers in the trash cans by the road.”
“Which means someone’s stayin’ there.They might be waitin’ for us.”
It was possible.Especially since Archer and Reese had picked up another tail.He didn’t know who they were dealing with.If they had half a brain, someone would stick by their hidey hole to keep it safe.If they didn’t … well, Brantley was hoping they didn’t because he wanted to get a look at the place.
He kept up his quick pace for a few more yards, then slowed, shifting to the west so they could come in from behind.He was going on the original real estate listing, which boasted several hunting cabins and a main residence on the property.It had been on the market for seven hundred eighty-one days, so there was no telling what condition it would be in.If the bent and rustedFor Salesign by the road was anything to go by, there was a chance it was falling in on itself.
Holding up a fist, Brantley stopped.Atticus followed suit, moving up beside him.Brantley pulled a pair of binoculars from one of the pockets in his pants.He used them to scan the area, looking for signs of life.He expected to see armed guards pacing back and forth.There were none.
Shit.
“What’s wrong?”Atticus asked, his voice low.
Brantley passed the binoculars to him.
“No guards,” Atticus said a moment later.“Looks empty.”
Yeah, it did.Which meant one of two things: he was wrong and Kylie had never been here, or he was right but Kylie was no longer here.Either way, it wasn’t what he was hoping to find.
Only one way to find out.
Taking the binoculars back, Brantley shoved them in his pocket, then removed his gun from the holster.
“Stay close until I tell you,” he instructed Atticus before moving forward.
Atticus remained on his six, his weapon at the ready.Brantley kept his eye out for movement, but the only signs of life were a couple of squirrels chasing each other through the large oak tree in the front yard.And that pretty much told him there was no one outside.
The main house—or what he assumed was the main house—was nestled in between several oak trees, their branches stretched out, shielding the wraparound porch from the midday sun.The house appeared in decent condition.It could use a good spray-down to get the mold off the siding, but the roof wasn’t sagging, and the porch wasn’t leaning.
He heard no sounds as they moved closer.Still, they kept low, silent.Brantley used hand signals to direct Atticus to go to the front of the house while he moved to the back.
By the time he reached the porch, he knew for sure no one was there.The windows were open, and he could see through to the front.The few pieces of furniture inside were turned over, and cobwebs were growing from the ceiling.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as he went inside.
