Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,61

my cell.”

Tyler’s gaze scanned the card briefly, then held it up. “I’ll call if I hear from her.”

“Thanks.” Brantley motioned for Reese to go out before him.

Once they were back in the truck, Brantley turned over the engine. He relaxed against the seat, stared out the window.

Where the fuck was Corinne?

“Where to next?” Reese inquired, the click of his seat belt catching Brantley’s attention.

“I suppose a quick stop at the house so I could get you naked and beneath me’s outta the question?”

When he glanced over, he saw the surprise on Reese’s face. Clearly hadn’t expected that.

“Please tell me that’s a yes,” he teased.

Reese sighed. “One-track mind, Navy boy. Here I was thinkin’ you got more than enough last night.”

“Not by a long shot. Probably take ten, twenty … thousand more times before I’m sated enough to start takin’ it slow with you. Now that you gave me the green light…”

“Great. Just promise you don’t intend to knock all that out in a week.”

Chuckling, Brantley reached for the gearshift, put the truck in drive. “Won’t make promises I can’t keep.”

***

Reese tried to ignore the fact his cock had decided to imitate a steel beam thanks to Brantley’s revelation. It wasn’t easy. Definitely not in Wranglers while sitting in a truck. But the discomfort did keep his imagination from running away from him.

Determined to stay on track, Reese released a breath when Brantley pulled out of Tyler Murphy’s neighborhood and headed back south on the interstate.

“Where’s the Grove?”

“She went to the one downtown,” Brantley answered, his tone reflecting his amusement. Evidently he was still thinking about that off-topic conversation.

“We should head over there,” Reese suggested. “Check it out. Maybe someone’ll remember seeing her.”

“Couldn’t hurt.”

So that was what they did. Brantley drove them downtown and together they questioned the wine bar’s manager, getting the name and number of the bartender who’d been on duty last night. No one currently working had remembered seeing Corinne the night before, although they’d admitted the place had been packed, which evidently wasn’t unusual for a Saturday night.

While Brantley tied up the conversation with the manager, Reese walked out the front door. He peered down the steps to the street, glanced over the bushes on the right. He imagined he was Corinne, walking out, maybe a little tipsy from indulging, smiling because she’d met someone new. He imagined her glancing at her phone, maybe checking the Uber app. Figuring she was a smart woman, he guessed she would’ve double-checked the vehicle information, the tags, ensured they matched the information the app had given her.

From there, she would’ve gotten into Suzy Dumonde’s light blue Camry. Alone. The backseat. She would’ve relaxed a bit. Maybe Suzy chatted her up, asked how her night was, if she’d had fun. Corinne would’ve smiled, nodded. She was tired though. Ready to go home, kick off her shoes.

Reese stepped down to the sidewalk, did a three-sixty as he took it all in. Had someone been waiting for her out here? Watched her leave? Or had someone been inside, waiting? This Andrew guy. Had he followed her home? Intercepted her before she could get into her apartment? They would definitely have to check out the security cameras.

He glanced down the road, imagining Suzy’s car heading away from the bar before making the trek toward Corinne’s apartment.

Footsteps sounded, drawing Reese out of his thoughts. He turned to see Brantley sliding his sunglasses on, pulling his truck keys out of his pocket.

“Can we go back to her apartment?” Reese asked.

Brantley didn’t say a word, simply nodded and led the way to the truck.

Not long after, the two of them were walking up to the front of the Northshore building. Reese paused in front, saw Suzy’s car in his mind, parked at the curb waiting for Corinne to go inside. He could sense Brantley watching him, but the man didn’t ask questions and Reese felt no need to explain.

Once he was satisfied he’d rehashed Corinne’s steps outside, Reese followed Brantley into the building.

From the left, the leasing agent they’d talked to earlier called out, greeting them. The guy stood up, walked over, his face reflecting concern.

“Please tell me you’ve found her.”

Seemed rather anxious for a man who simply worked in the building where she lived. Did he know her? Maybe on a more personal level?

Reese peered over at Brantley, watched as he tucked the arm of his sunglasses into the neck of his T-shirt.

“Not yet.”

The guy gestured to another woman. “I asked Sylvia if she’s talked to