Chapter One #2
“Speaking of your cousin,” Atticus drawled when there was a knock on the door.
“I’m not lookin’ forward to this,” Reese muttered, looking over Brantley’s shoulder at the monitor.
Brantley wasn’t either.
Archer got to the door first, opening it and stepping back out of the way.
Travis stormed in, his expression harder than Brantley’d ever seen it.
Brantley held his ground when his cousin marched up to him, all but getting right in his face. A lesser man might’ve taken a step back, perhaps gotten offended by the fury in his demeanor, but Brantley wasn’t the sort to back down from a fight. Not even when it was with family.
That and he had an inch on Travis and probably a good thirty pounds of muscle. No, Travis wasn’t a lightweight, nor did he look like a man who sat behind a desk all day, but Brantley was seven years younger and still in his prime.
“Do you honestly believe my wife is alive?”
He heard the threat, but in it was something else. Optimism? A twinge of hope, maybe?
Brantley’s fight-or-flight instinct fizzled, transforming into sympathy for a man who’d lost so much. “I don’t know,” he admitted, holding Travis’s stare. “But I can assure you, we won’t stop until we know for sure.”
Silence settled heavily over the room as Travis continued to stare at him. Brantley wasn’t sure what Travis was looking for, but he suspected he found it a moment later when he took a step back, his shoulders relaxing.
“As much as I want to believe it, I can’t,” Travis said, his words spoken softly. “Not until you give me real, definitive proof.”
“Understood.”
Travis took another step back, his gaze swinging to every person in the room. “I expect that you’ll be discreet. I do not want this gettin’ out.”
“Only those who absolutely need to know will have the information,” Reese told him. “And it’ll remain that way.”
Travis nodded, then glanced at Brantley once more. “Keep me updated.”
“Of course.”
Everyone remained silent as Travis made another hasty exit.
When they were Travis-free once again, Reese looked over. “You really think he’s gonna let this go?”
Absolutely not. “One can only hope.” Brantley turned to Holt. “Your turn.”
“What would you like me to say?”
“Maybe start at the beginning. Tell me how you came to the conclusion that Kylie’s alive when I was at the funeral. I saw her when they lowered her into the ground.”
A knot formed in his throat just thinking about that day.
“You saw her?” Holt sounded genuinely curious. “You actually saw Kylie in that casket?”
Brantley frowned as he thought back to the events that followed that horrific day when Juliet Prince plowed into Kylie in downtown Coyote Ridge.
The hospital, the devastating news, the numbness that followed.
The family had insisted on a closed casket because Gage feared their children would never get over seeing their mother like that.
At the time, it made sense. Then again, Brantley had selfishly been grateful for the reprieve.
Seeing her would’ve caused the guilt to weigh heavier on his shoulders.
“No,” he admitted. “I didn’t. But I’m sure Travis and Gage did.”
“What about at the viewing?” Simon prompted.
Shaking his head, Brantley said, “No. They had a photo beside the casket.”
Brantley recalled that perfectly because he’d thought the point of a viewing was to see the deceased one last time.
Holt looked at Simon.
“Why?” Reese asked. “If you’re sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’...”
“Which is?” Brantley insisted, not interested in the cryptic bullshit.
“That Kylie wasn’t in that casket,” Reese said, still staring at Holt. “Why would they do it?”
“And how would they know they’d keep the casket closed?” Atticus tacked on.
“It was a risk they had to take,” Holt explained.
“So, what? They filled the casket with a hundred and twenty pounds of sand so no one would notice?” Archer sounded dubious.
“And just hoped they’d keep the casket closed,” Atticus repeated. “Faking her death with so many people around would’ve been quite a gamble, don’t you think?”
“Faked her death?” Brantley swiped a hand over his hair. Hearing it out loud sounded so much worse. “For fuck’s sake. Why?”
“I don’t think it was intentional,” Holt explained. “Simply convenient.”
Brantley felt a cold chill race down his spine. The same one that washed over him the first time Holt used that word to describe Kylie’s death.
“Not her death,” Holt said defensively. “The events of the day. The car accident, her going to the hospital. Yes, it was a tragic turn of events, but for those with an agenda, it was convenient. They took advantage of the opportunity. Manipulated the situation because it aligned with their needs.”
“There was no accident,” Brantley seethed, breathing through his nose as anger flooded his bloodstream.
“I—”
“Juliet Prince hit Kylie with her car,” Reese said calmly. “It wasn’t an accident, but it wasn’t premeditated. Not that we can tell, anyway. Kylie was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I know.” Holt shook his head. “I know this sounds insane. Maybe it is. But based on the information I ascertained, it was the perfect situation to take advantage of. Kylie’s injured, and if someone were hoping to lure her mother out of hiding, what better way to do that than to fake her death?”
“Jesus Christ.” Brantley took a step back.
“That sounds like fictional bullshit. Yeah. I can understand an agenda, but that’s goin’ too far.
How the hell does one woman hold so much power over the Adorites?
Even if Meredith witnessed a hit, there’s nothin’ to say it would take down the whole family. ”
“But she didn’t,” Atticus contributed. “Which makes it even more questionable.”
“You’re right,” Holt continued. “It’s a stretch, I’ll give you that.
But something makes me think everything that happened that day happened because it needed to.
” He turned to Atticus. “And you’re right, too.
According to Decker, she didn’t witness a hit.
But I think Martin Calloway’s convinced himself it’s the key to takin’ down the Adorites. ”
“Why’s this guy got a hard-on for these people?” Atticus asked. “Because they’re doin’ illegal shit? That seems like overkill, no?”
Simon chimed in with, “Yes, it does. My guess is, Calloway’s not after Max because he’s a criminal.”
Atticus frowned. “Then why?”
“More than likely,” Archer spoke up, “something happened in the course of the original investigation that made it personal.”
Brantley frowned. “You’re sayin’ he’s out for revenge, and creating a fake witness is gonna take him down?”
“I doubt Meredith’s the only weapon in his arsenal,” Simon stated. “But until he finds her, she’s a loose end.”
Brantley hated to admit that it made sense.
Some of it, anyway. As for the possibility that someone could fake Kylie’s death …
he didn’t see that it was feasible. He remembered that day.
The family had descended on the hospital, everyone waiting for news.
The doctor came out and delivered the devastating blow directly to Travis and Gage.
“I want someone to look into the doctor who signed her death certificate,” Brantley told Atticus. “I want everything there is to know about him.”
“Got it,” Atticus said, typing something on his computer.
No wonder Travis was spiraling. Brantley could only imagine what the man thought when Holt told him this fucked up fiction.
And now Brantley had dragged him into it.
Although Travis had walked out, Brantley knew deep down the man would not be able to brush this off.
Not without a flame of hope burning until they knew for sure.
Holt looked his way. “I can already tell you think I’m nuts.”
Yeah, well. If the straitjacket fits…
Brantley shook his head, but it wasn’t to deny the accusation. “I don’t believe for one second—”
The words ended abruptly. He couldn’t finish that sentence. No, he didn’t think it was true—that Kylie was still alive and breathing—but he couldn’t deny there was a twinge of hope, a tiny flame sparked from the need for it to be true.
What if?
He didn’t necessarily believe in questioning things he couldn’t see, but in this case, it was difficult not to.
“Say there’s some merit to it,” Archer prompted. “And we already have mention of FBI agents lingering in town. We haven’t identified them, but they could be around.”
“They are,” Holt confirmed.
“And what?” Reese prompted, looking at Holt. “You think they’re hangin’ out, hopin’ Kylie’s mother will pop up again because she’s heartbroken and wants to mourn her daughter’s death?”
“Nearly two years later?” Brantley tacked on.
“I don’t believe in coincidence, so yeah.” Holt nodded. “I think they’re waiting for something.”
“Yeah? And what?” Atticus chimed in. “They’ve got Kylie locked up somewhere? Holding her hostage?”
Holt shrugged. “Possibly. Or it’s possible she’s willing. Depends on what they’ve told her.”
Brantley took a step forward, intent on arguing, but Simon stepped between him and Holt.
“Think about it. A mother of five, Brantley. They could manipulate her simply by telling her that her kids aren’t safe.”
Reese’s hand landed on his arm. “If they’re persuasive enough, I can see it. Kylie would want to protect them all.”
Brantley glanced from one person to the next until his gaze finally landed on Reese. “As ridiculous as it sounds, there’s only one thing we can do at this point.”
Reese nodded. “I agree.”
Looking back at Atticus and Archer, Brantley said, “Keep movin’ forward. But I want this little detail”—he pointed at the computer—“kept on the DL. For now.”
“And the objective?” Atticus prompted.
Brantley looked at Reese momentarily, then addressed the two investigators directly. “I want to prove without a doubt whether Kylie’s alive. And if she is, where the fuck is she?”
“Why don’t we just exhume the body?” Atticus asked.
Brantley canted his head. “If you can convince my cousin to disturb what might just be his wife’s final resting place, you go ahead and try. But when he beats you bloody and leaves you for dead, that’s on you.”
“Very vivid picture you paint, boss. No exhumation. Got it.” Atticus stepped forward. “I’d like to ask that we bring Evan into the fold. Where that’s concerned, I mean.”
“Why?” Reese asked.
“Because Baz is out and Evan can be discreet. We can pursue different leads, and he can assist with that.”
Brantley felt Reese’s gaze on him, waiting for an answer. He had one, but he wasn’t sure his husband would be happy with it.
Without hesitation, he said, “No.”
Atticus looked pained by the response.
Gesturing to Atticus and Archer, Brantley said, “The four of us—” He stopped, looked at Simon. “Make that five. We’ll pursue that lead. You can assign all other aspects of the conspiracy to the team. For the moment, no one outside this room needs to know about Kylie.”
Atticus looked appeased by the response. “Understood. And JJ?”
That was a good question. Brantley knew he couldn’t keep the information from her. She deserved to know. “Reese and I’ll go by the hospital and fill her and Baz in. I’ll see if they have time to help out when they aren’t with the twins.”
“What about RT and Z?” Reese asked.
“No.” Brantley knew it didn’t make sense, but he wanted to keep this close to the vest. For now.
He looked at his husband, expecting an argument.
“Okay.”
He tried to hide his surprise at Reese’s acquiescence.
“I get it,” Reese said quietly. “The fewer who know…”
Exactly.
Looking at Holt and Simon, Brantley said, “I want you both to keep this to yourself.”
Holt nodded.
Taking another cleansing breath, grateful that the panic had subsided and his focus had returned, Brantley started toward the kitchen.
“Let me make coffee, then we’ll get started.”