Mission: Without a Trace - Nicole Edwards Page 0,74

with this man.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned seconds before he slammed into Brantley one final time, his cock erupting.

Brantley groaned, his back muscles tensing right before a shudder racked them both.

Reese collapsed on top of him, letting his spent cock slide out.

“Fuck. I’m not sure anything’s ever felt that good,” Reese muttered. “No. I take that back. I know nothin’s ever felt that good.”

Brantley rolled to his side, forcing Reese to move off him. Strong arms banded around him, holding him tight.

“Won’t disagree,” Brantley said, still breathing hard. “Never done that before.”

“What? Without a condom?”

Brantley nodded.

And fuck if that didn’t swell Reese’s head. Yeah, there was no doubt he loved this man, had fallen headfirst, but to know he’d been Brantley’s first for something … well, that made him feel like he could conquer the world.

An hour later, Reese joined Brantley at the barn only to find JJ had already arrived. She was sitting at her desk, a cup of coffee steaming at her side, eyes glued to the monitor. She didn’t look up, didn’t greet him as she usually did.

Casting a quick look at Brantley, he cocked an eyebrow.

“This is how I found her,” he said, not bothering to muffle his voice.

JJ didn’t seem to realize they were even there.

“I guess she’s not that interested in sausage biscuits, huh?”

That got her attention. Not only did she look up, JJ stood, glaring over as though she thought he might be joking.

Holding up the plate of biscuits and sausage, he nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll just put ’em in there.”

Brantley’s laugh followed him as did JJ’s footsteps.

“You’re here early,” Reese said as JJ snagged a napkin and a sausage biscuit.

“Work,” she said around a mouthful.

“Did you sleep at all?”

JJ shrugged. “Hour. Maybe two. Had an energy drink, couple cups of coffee.”

Reese had to work to translate the words because she continued to bite and chew as though she hadn’t eaten in a month.

While she reached for another, Reese poured himself some coffee, added the requisite sugar and milk, then carried it and the pot toward his desk. He set his own cup down, refilled Brantley’s, and returned the pot to the warmer.

“Dare I ask if there’s anything new?” He glanced from Brantley to JJ then back.

“She’s workin’ on the tattoo.”

“I was thinkin’ about that.” Reese perched on the edge of his desk, sipped his coffee. “We can’t see what the design is, but is there anyone we’ve talked to or anyone we’ve noted as knowing her who has a tattoo in that spot? Maybe we can use that as a lead.”

JJ stopped with the biscuit near her lips, then dumped it onto the napkin. “Reese, you’re a fuckin’ genius.”

Yeah. JJ definitely needed to lay off the caffeine.

While JJ’s fingers flew over her keyboard, Reese ventured over to the whiteboard on the wall, studied the timeline they’d laid out, the various names of people who had come into contact with Lauren Tyler before her disappearance. Perhaps they were off base, but Reese was going on the assumption that Corinne’s disappearance had to do with Lauren’s. He didn’t believe in coincidence.

“Did we get anything on the guy the professor mentioned?”

“Jason Montgomery,” Brantley supplied.

“Yes. Him.”

JJ didn’t answer, once again focused on her computer screen.

Brantley shrugged, clearly not having an answer.

Rather than pull JJ from her concentration, Reese headed over to the computer that was connected to the big screen mounted on the wall. He keyed in the name, came up with a good dozen.

“Narrow it down by age,” Brantley said, joining him.

Reese typed in the range he suspected Jason would be, roughly three to four years older than Lauren was his max, her age the minimum.

“Leaves us with three.” Brantley studied the screen, the three images that appeared. “Where did they live at the time of Lauren’s disappearance?”

“Drops us to two,” Reese noted, eliminating the one who resided in Alaska at that time, as well as currently. “Last knowns are…” He tapped a few buttons, waited.

Brantley chuckled. “Didn’t help.”

Nope. Both were in the central Texas area.

“What about social media?” JJ suggested, appearing at Reese’s side.

Because he knew she was far faster at retrieving that information, he stepped aside, allowed her to pull it up.

Side by side on one screen were two Facebook accounts, the other Instagram.

Between the three of them, they skimmed through images, until Brantley held up a hand toward one photo. “This one. Pull it up.”

JJ did, bringing the image into full view on the screen. It was of a man with