Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker Off the Books #4) - Nicole Edwards Page 0,59

all Dante’s blood until we test it,” Reese added, as though that should’ve been an obvious conclusion.

This time Baz heard the underlying meaning. If that was all Dante’s blood, the chances of him still being alive … well, they were very, very slim, and unless he was at a hospital already, they were growing slimmer by the second.

“Good point. JJ, why don’t you go change.” Brantley nodded at Reese. “You call the sheriff, report the scene.”

Baz watched as JJ went into her room. She moved slowly, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the blood or because she had a head injury.

“And you”—Brantley tapped Baz on the shoulder—“call Charlie. Tell her we need her over here ASAP.”

“Will do.”

“And I’ll call Trey,” Brantley continued. “Have him bring over a kit. I won’t notify the governor until we know for a fact this is Dante’s finger. To know that, we’ll need to fingerprint it.”

Reese pulled out his phone. “I’ll step outside to make the call.”

No one spoke as Reese ventured out the front door and into the bright morning sunlight.

“Yes, I need to speak to Sheriff Endsley,” Reese said, his voice trailing off as he stepped onto the porch.

Baz sighed. “I can’t wrap my head around this. I thought Dante was more of a douche than a dirtbag.”

“He is,” Brantley confirmed. “Which is why I don’t think he did this. Or if he did, he didn’t do it on his own.”

“You don’t think he’s capable of hurtin’ JJ?”

“Physically, no.”

Baz wasn’t sure why that made him feel moderately better, but it did.

“I don’t wanna go to jail,” JJ whispered, drawing all eyes to her as she emerged from her bedroom wearing a clean sweatshirt and jeans, a pair of Nikes on her feet.

“You won’t,” Brantley stated firmly.

“You don’t know that,” she argued.

As much as Baz wanted to believe Brantley could control this situation, maneuver the outcome in their favor, he had his doubts. Reese was right, this place had to be handled like a crime scene. Unfortunately, JJ was smack dab in the middle of it all with the blood covering her, the knife likely used to cut off Dante’s finger in her bed… There was just too much that implicated her, especially as seen by an unbiased spectator.

“She’s right,” Baz said. “Whoever did this wanted to implicate JJ. There’s the knife in the bed, which no doubt will have her prints on it.”

“It’s her knife,” Brantley countered. “Of course it will.”

“Her bloody prints,” Baz snapped, feeling the thread of his control beginning to pull tight. “Why would she be holding the knife with bloody hands? Think about it.”

“You said she didn’t have blood on her hands.”

“I didn’t,” JJ confirmed, holding her hands up.

“She’s been unconscious for hours, Brantley. We have no idea what happened here.”

Brantley glared, obviously refraining from ripping Baz a new one. He appreciated it.

Regardless of whether the cops found something that might implicate JJ or not, Baz wasn’t willing to take that chance.

“She doesn’t have an alibi,” Baz continued. “She was probably the last person Dante called. Plus this is her house, her knife. She was definitely the last person to see Dante besides whoever’s behind this.”

Brantley was staring at him, that unflappable control firmly in place, looking as though he had the ability to fix everything simply by willing it to be so. But he couldn’t. No one was that powerful.

Even if they all wished he was.

“Call Charlie,” Brantley breathed out slowly. “Tell her to come over here.” He jerked his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Trey. We need to process the scene, then we’ll decide how to proceed.”

Christ Almighty. He just didn’t get it, did he? The more people they brought in, the worse they were going to make it.

“Brant—”

“Call her,” Brantley barked, not bothering to look back.

Fuck.

Baz waited until Brantley walked out the front door before turning to JJ. She was staring up at him, her eyes glassy, as though she wasn’t quite sure what was going on.

“Let me get you outta here,” Baz whispered, putting his arm around her shoulder.

She leaned in, as though it was natural, and the only thing he could think about was keeping her safe, ensuring no one else hurt her. He felt her shudder, knew the shock was setting in since the adrenaline was waning.

Because he only had one option, Baz took her hand and led her out the front door. Reese and Brantley were nowhere in sight, which he took to mean they were walking the