It was stupid to ponder such nonsense, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the case that had his thoughts going awry. Having met the wife of a man who’d gone missing, and another wife of a dead man, both of whom didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact their husbands weren’t coming home, Brantley had begun second-guessing relationships. More specifically marriage.
Then again, if he thought about his family, his parents having been married for as long as they had, aunts and uncles the same, he knew it wasn’t all bad. It worked for some. Others it was a means of getting what they wanted, whatever that might be.
Had he actually thought about marrying Reese? Simple answer was yes. He’d thought about it.
Hell, when it came to Reese, Brantley’d even dared a peek at what the future might hold for them. That wasn’t something he’d ever done before. Day to day was his motto, and until he met Reese, it had worked for him. Now, going to bed and waking up with the man he loved every morning … he found he didn’t want it any other way.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure Reese felt the same.
And that was the blasted insecurity eating him from the inside out.
Chapter Twelve
“So, how long’ve you and Brantley been together?”
Doing his best to keep his expression bland, Reese peered over at his passenger, considered his answer. Not because he would deny the fact he and Brantley were together. These past few months, he’d come to terms with what he wanted, and he didn’t feel the need to pretend otherwise. No, it wasn’t exactly easy to open up about it, but that had more to do with the fact he was a private man than because he was in love with a man.
Or so he wanted to believe, anyway.
At the same time, Evan Vaughn was technically a stranger, and Reese wasn’t sure how much detail he wanted to get into with him.
“Never mind,” Evan said with a rough chuckle. “Not my business.”
“Almost a year,” he told him.
It wasn’t like he could hide it, especially since Evan worked for them. Hell, Reese lived on the same property where he worked, with the man they all called boss. If they didn’t know already, they’d figure it out sooner or later.
“How is it?” Evan asked. “Partnering with the same person you’re in a relationship with?”
“It’s got its challenges,” he admitted.
“I can imagine. But the two of you seem to work well together.”
Reese had thought they did, sure. But as of late, they’d been having their fair share of bumps in the road. In fact, he was wondering if that was what this was. Brantley pushing him away, keeping him at a distance. He knew the man was researching Madison Adorite, likely trying to figure out just how serious things had been between Reese and her.
And Reese wasn’t entirely innocent either. He’d been communicating with Madison. Innocuously, yes, but that didn’t mean his thoughts had remained virtuous. There were times when he revisited his relationship with Madison in his mind, trying to remember who he was before he’d met Brantley Walker, before he’d learned something about himself he never would’ve expected. Bottom line was, Reese wasn’t sure he even knew who he’d been before Brantley, and he wasn’t sure he liked that, so yeah, he would reminisce from time to time, try to decide when, where, and why things had changed so drastically.
Didn’t seem to matter how much he thought about it though, Reese never came up with the answers to his many questions.
“What about you?” Reese asked, not wanting to get stuck in that mental rut. “You ever date one of your partners?”
“No.” Evan was very matter-of-fact. “I … uh … I haven’t dated anyone since my wife died, and she was my high school sweetheart.”
Reese cast a glance over, nodded. “I’m sorry.”
He knew the story behind Evan’s wife dying, expected it was a sore subject for the homicide detective.
“I’m in therapy,” Evan said gruffly. “It’s helping.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think it would help, you know. Not me. Why the hell would I need someone to pick through my brain and try to fix what can’t be fixed?” Evan shrugged. “I was wrong. Grief takes time, and he’s helping me to see that.”
Because Evan felt the need to open up, Reese took advantage of it. “And wanting to do this? Will that help?”
Evan was silent for a moment, and Reese figured he’d overstepped. Before he could offer his own apology for intruding, Evan exhaled.
“If you’re asking me whether it’s personal, yeah, it’s personal. I’ve got an ulterior motive for wanting to join this task force, sure. I won’t deny it.”
Reese had figured as much. But who could blame the guy? His wife was murdered six years ago. Kidnapped, raped, and murdered by a man they still hadn’t found. A man authorities suspected of being responsible for at least a dozen other similar crimes in the past ten years.
“Will that be a problem?” Evan asked.
Reese answered immediately. “No. It’s motivation. I understand that.” He glanced over. “You just can’t let it make you lose focus.”
Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes, the silence in the truck settling around them comfortably.
It wasn’t until they were nearing Coyote Ridge that Evan spoke up again. “What about this case? You don’t think this is related to the real estate deal.”
Reese was surprised it was a statement rather than a question, but he answered anyway. “No. I don’t. This is personal.”
“I can see it, too.”
Reese could feel Evan watching him as he drove.
“The wives you talked to? You think they have something to do with it?”
“I think it’s possible,” he confirmed. Although Reese hadn’t quite figured out how they’d done it or even why.
Not that logical reasons were required for people to do shitty things to other people. It was the world they lived in, the one that benefited from task forces dedicated to locating missing persons. Had there not been fucked up people, there wouldn’t be a need for those who wanted to help.
“If they did, they timed it right,” Evan continued. “With the real estate deal, it has us looking in other directions.”
“They’ve got solid alibis.”
“Sure they do.” Evan cleared his throat. “For their own husband’s disappearance. But do they have alibis for the others?”
Reese shot a look at the detective as he understood what he was saying. “You think they took each other’s husband out?”
“Why not? It wouldn’t be the first time.”
No, it wouldn’t.
As he drove, Reese tossed that around in his head.
“I’ve only got one problem with that theory,” he told Evan as they were pulling down the driveway toward the house and HQ.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t see Annie Hawkins getting her hands dirty.”
Then again, Reese hadn’t thought he’d ever come across a cop with multiple personalities who locked women in rooms and killed them for kicks, but he’d come face-to-face with exactly that.