Yet he still worried. Travis could understand. He was in the same boat. Although he knew Gage could hold his own, he worried about the man the same way he worried about Kylie and the kids. That was what happened when you loved someone.
“Why don’t you get outta here,” Brantley told him. “If by chance this is her, I’d prefer to keep you off the news.”
“I’m happy to talk to the sheriff.”
“Not necessary. Get home to your family. Keep an eye on them. We’ll deal with this here.”
Once more looking at the burning rubble, Travis nodded, then glanced over at Brantley, held his cousin’s gaze. “If this is her… If she tried to put me in the ground…” He lowered his voice. “I’m gonna need a solid alibi, Brantley, because she won’t get away this time.”
His cousin had the decency to simply nod.
They both knew there was no talking him off the ledge. Because if Juliet Prince brought the fight to Coyote Ridge, she wouldn’t walk away from it this time.
He would make damn sure of that.
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t need a doctor,” JJ insisted when Baz pulled up to a quaint two-story house.
“We’ll let the doctor determine that,” he said, just as he had when she’d asked where they were going after she’d woken to hear him on the phone.
JJ swallowed more arguments, because the truth was, she didn’t feel all that well. Now that her adrenaline was waning, the pain had returned full force. Not only was there throbbing behind her eyes, she was nauseous, and if she had to spend much more time in this truck, she was probably going to embarrass herself.
“This is my father’s personal physician,” Baz explained as he put the truck in park. “You can tell him as much or as little as you’d like. He understands discretion.”
JJ was hoping not to tell him anything more than that her head hurt, but she nodded in agreement.
With Baz’s help, she got out of the truck and walked up the steps to the porch with its colonial-style columns. The red door opened before they could ring the bell. An older man with a head of white hair and sympathetic brown eyes gave her a thorough assessment before stepping out of the way.
“Thanks for seein’ us, Doc.” Baz kept his arm around her.
“I’m glad I was home. A few more minutes and I would’ve been on the golf course. Right this way.”
The doctor led the way into a formal living room complete with a settee and matching ornate armchairs.
“Let me get my bag.”
When Baz assisted her to the pretentious little couch, JJ glared up at him. “I will be fine, you know.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re hardheaded and all, but I just want to be sure.”
Since it wasn’t like she could run out of the house, JJ resigned herself to the checkup, hoping it would be quick and painless, because she really, really wanted to lie down.
*
Baz was grateful it was only fifteen minutes from the doctor’s house to his father’s because he wanted to get JJ off her feet and into bed, although he suspected she would fight him tooth and nail on that.
As soon as Dr. Medley gave his official diagnosis, a mild concussion, which explained her headache, nausea, and grogginess, Baz’s concern had grown.
But it had been when he’d asked the doctor if she’d been drugged that Baz had seen red. Although he didn’t draw blood or have any way to confirm, Dr. Medley believed there was a very good possibility. His best guess—which Baz had to pry out of him because doctors evidently did not like to guess at anything—was ketamine or something along those lines had been injected into her left arm, where he’d found what appeared to be a puncture mark.
The prescription: bed rest, a lot of fluids, and Tylenol—for the first twenty-four hours—for pain. After that, ibuprofen was safe.
Baz had left wishing JJ would let him take her to the hospital, but she had refused. Only when she had agreed to let Dr. Medley make a house call tomorrow had Baz decided to take her to his father’s house as they’d planned.
“My father and stepmother are out of town,” Baz reminded JJ as they entered the house. “But we’re stayin’ in the guesthouse, so we won’t see them even if they come back unexpectedly.”
Plus, they would have privacy in the moderate-sized—as his father referred to it—house, one of three enormous structures that sat on the twenty-three-acre estate. While Baz appreciated the privacy and the accommodations, he wouldn’t go so far as to say it was moderate-sized. For a full-time family of five, maybe, but not for a place for people to temporarily lay their heads when visiting.
At thirty-seven hundred square feet, the contemporary modern structure, with its clean, neat lines, large, picture windows, and sustainable building materials had pretty much everything one would need for an overnight, including four bedrooms, a game room, media room, a gym, a fully stocked kitchen, butler and housekeeper service, and a variety of clothing in various sizes. You know, in the event someone came without their own things.
Baz knew they fell into that category, so he wouldn’t bitch too much about it now.
“Let’s get you into bed,” Baz told JJ, holding her hand and leading the way through the open floor plan and down the hall to what was one of four enormous suites.
“Shower first, please.”
“Of course.”
They’d made it to his father’s house without incident, and while Baz hadn’t had quite the night JJ had, he was feeling some of the exhaustion from the waning adrenaline. He wanted nothing more than to shower and fall into bed for a few hours himself, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He needed to contact Brantley, explain his actions since he’d spent the past hour and a half avoiding all incoming calls, including one from Brantley, one from Reese, and two from Charlie.
“Come on,” he urged, knowing the adrenaline would fade completely once JJ realized she was safe, and she’d be hard-pressed to do much of anything at that point. “You can get cleaned up then into bed.”
She peered up at him and nodded. It was pretty much the same response he’d gotten since they’d left her house.
Once in the bathroom, Baz turned on the water, then left her alone so he could grab her a robe for when she was finished. When he returned, she was still standing in the middle of the space, arms wrapped around her middle as though she was holding herself together.
“JJ?”
She turned to face him.
“We’ll figure this out,” he assured her.
What he wanted to say was that everything would be all right, but since he had no way of knowing that, he figured empty promises wouldn’t make either of them feel any better.
The next thing he knew, she was in his arms, her face buried in his chest as she sobbed.
As much as he hated that she was crying, Baz held on to her for dear life. She was alive, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment. The thought of anything happening to her… He didn’t want to think along those lines because he might find himself breaking down into tears.
When she pulled herself together, Baz dropped his arms, stood still while she stepped back.
“There’re clothes in the closet. On the racks and in the drawers. All new and probably a few things in your size. When you’re done, we’ll get you settled in bed. But please, take your time. There’s no rush.”
He left her to clean up, stepping out of the bathroom to give her privacy, but he left the door partially opened so he could hear her if she called for him. He remained outside the door until he heard her moving around, the shower door open, close.
Content she could handle that task, he went into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and grabbed the iPad his father kept for guests to use. He would’ve preferred a computer, but until he could have one brought over from the main house, this would have to do.
Before he could create a guest account to log in, his cell phone rang. This time it was Trey, so he answered, knowing he would have to face the music even
tually.
“Have you heard?” the man asked as soon as Baz said hello.
Baz walked over to the coffeepot. “Heard what?”
“JJ’s house,” Trey said, his voice low. “It blew up.”
He nearly dropped his cell phone. “What do you mean it blew up?”
“I’m not sure how else to explain it to you. It just kinda went boom.”
“Jesus Christ, Trey. Is anyone hurt?”
“No. God, I wouldn’t be jokin’ if they were. Brantley, Reese, and I were outside talkin’ to Travis—”
“Why was Travis there?”
“Someone texted him, pretendin’ to be JJ. Asked him to come by.”
Holy shit. That…
“Everyone’s wonderin’ the same thing,” Trey went on, as though he had read Baz’s mind. “Is it just a coincidence? Or did Juliet have a hand in all of this?”
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s all fucked up, that’s what I think.” Trey sighed. “But I’m takin’ my cues from Brantley. He wants to look at the evidence, not jump to conclusions.”
“You mean the evidence that was blown up in the explosion?”
Trey chuckled. “Yes.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Well, the good news is, Sheriff Endsley’s on the scene. Brantley’s leadin’ the charge here. He wanted me to call, check in.”
“He said that?”
“Not in so many words, no, but I got the gist of it.”
“Is he pissed?”
“I think he would be if it weren’t for the fact it was the smart thing to do,” Trey answered. “That and JJ’s house blowin’ up and all that shit. How is she, by the way?”
“Holdin’ it together.” He gave Trey a high-level rundown of the doctor visit.
“Well, you keep her off her feet and let us worry about the rest. Cool?”
“For now.”
“Good. We’ll keep in touch.”
Before he could ask more questions, try to dig for details, Trey disconnected.
Baz had come here to keep a low profile until they could figure out what happened at JJ’s. Now that the crime scene was destroyed, did they have to stay hidden? Or would they be better off at HQ? Somewhere they had access to the equipment needed to track down Dante and whoever was responsible for this mess.
He considered calling Brantley, asking him, but decided against it. For now they would stay put, see what they could do from this end. JJ needed a quiet place to rest. And once she was feeling better, she would need some time to pull herself together. Not to mention, Baz wasn’t keen on spending the day tiptoeing around the office to appease the masses.
When he heard the shower shut off, Baz headed back down the hall to the bedroom. He waited patiently for JJ to emerge from the bathroom. She was wearing a robe, her hair wet and hanging down her back.
“Here,” he said, hurriedly pulling back the blankets on the bed. “Rest for a little while.”
She didn’t argue and he knew that meant she was in pain. Otherwise JJ would’ve told him to get bent so she could take care of business.
“I’ll come back to check on you in an hour.”
He left JJ curled up on her side, still wrapped in the robe, blankets pulled up to her neck.
Baz returned to the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the bar with the iPad.
His first goal was to call the local hospitals, see if Dante’d been brought in. If that didn’t work, he would retrace Dante’s steps for the past few days, find out what had prompted him to contact JJ the way he had, figure out where he’d gone. And yes, that was him holding out hope that Dante wasn’t stuck in some dungeon, bleeding out from a missing finger.
He called every hospital and emergency clinic within a fifteen-mile radius of Coyote Ridge. And that was saying something considering with the last economic boom, those freaking twenty-four-hour jobs had popped up on every street corner. Unfortunately, none of them had seen a man missing a finger. At least not in the past day or so.
Refreshing his coffee, Baz considered options for tracking Dante. He figured digitally was a good start, since he was stuck here, and the rest of the team was dealing with JJ’s house.
Christ. How the hell was he supposed to tell her about that? That everything she’d had was now gone?
While he pondered how to do that, he ventured back down the hall, peeked in on her. She was exactly as he’d left her.
With her still resting, Baz had time to do something that would lead to him giving JJ some hopeful news when she joined him. It first required him to reach out to Charlie for a bit of information to help with the search. She graciously gave him Dante’s phone number and a message from Brantley that basically said they would talk later. Luckily for him, Charlie was much nicer in relaying it than he figured Brantley would’ve been.
Turned out, finding Dante was next to impossible. His phone was turned off, or—if it was the one they’d found this morning—it had been destroyed if it was still in JJ’s house. Regardless, the last cell tower it had pinged happened to be the one closest to JJ’s house, which was no surprise. He decided to look at the other towers it had pinged in the past forty-eight hours, but that proved futile. The other few Dante’d been tracked by were close to downtown Austin and the route to Coyote Ridge. Which told him absolutely nothing.
When he heard footsteps in the hall, Baz paused his research and went to start another pot of coffee.
JJ appeared, looking a little better than she had. Her hair was still damp, but she was wearing a pair of light gray sweatpants, a plain black long-sleeve T-shirt that swallowed her up, and on her feet were a pair of thick wool socks.
Baz pulled out one of the barstools for her. “Feel any better? Can I get you anything?”
“Maybe some coffee,” she said softly.
“Comin’ right up.”
He retrieved the pot, pausing the brew long enough to pour her a cup. When he took it to her, he found JJ staring at the iPad screen.
“I was tryin’ to retrace Dante’s steps,” Baz explained. “Seein’ if I can figure out where he’s been. Thought it might tell me where he is now.”
JJ nodded as though she’d expected as much.
He was surprised when she didn’t take over his tablet, instead resting her elbows on the island, her hands wrapped firmly around the coffee mug.
“JJ?”
“Hmm?” She looked up at him as though seeing him for the first time.
“Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”
She was staring at him, her eyes shifting over his face.
“JJ?”
“Why do you smell like perfume?”
Baz nearly dropped his own coffee, the question catching him completely off guard. “I … uh…”
JJ’s expression remained stony. “Were you with someone last night, Baz?”
The question was so direct—likely her intention—that he couldn’t skirt it. He would’ve given anything to take back what had happened last night, but Baz knew he couldn’t. Which meant he had to own up to his mistakes even if he knew it would destroy any remaining hope that they could patch things up between them.
“Yes.” He glanced down at his coffee mug. “I was.”
When she didn’t respond, Baz forced his gaze up. She was still watching him, disappointment and what looked a hell of a lot like hurt in her eyes.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, JJ.”
He started to move toward her, but she sat up straight, holding her hand up.
“Don’t.”
Baz didn’t move from there. “JJ, let me explain.”
“No.” She shook her head, wincing when she did. “I don’t want to hear about it. You’re entitled to live your life, Baz, and I’m happy for you. But I…” She swallowed, holding his gaze. “I can’t handle the details.”
He found himself nodding in agreement. Not that he’d intended to give her details, but he did want to tell her why it had happen
ed. It wouldn’t change anything, but maybe it would help if she understood.
Then again, anything he said would sound like an excuse.
JJ gripped her mug again. “I keep replayin’ last night. Seein’ Dante…”
Looked as though they’d moved on.
Her eyes scanned his face. “He was actin’ so weird. Anxious. Paranoid.”
Although he would’ve preferred to clear the air between them, Baz knew this was more important. “But he didn’t say anything?”
“He was freaked when I got there. Nearly knocked me down when we got inside.” She slid her hands over her coffee mug as though the ceramic might warm them. “First thing he asked me was if I had my gun. I told him it was locked in the safe. He insisted I get it.” She looked up. “I should’ve demanded he talk to me. Instead I was stallin’, makin’ coffee. I wasn’t ready to hear more of his crap. If I would’ve made him tell me what he was scared of, maybe…” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can ever go back there. I don’t think I’ll ever not see blood everywhere.”
Baz moved closer, standing across the island. “JJ, somethin’ else happened after we left.”
Her eyes were wide with concern when she looked up at him.
“There was an explosion. Your house … it’s gone.”
“Oh, my God. Brantley and Reese? Are they…?”
“They’re fine,” he added quickly. “Trey was there, too, but no one was in the house when it happened.”
He decided not to tell her how Travis had been lured over. She didn’t need to carry the weight of that just yet.
“Brantley’s dealin’ with things on that end. And we can stay here as long as we need to,” he reassured her. “There are plenty of guest rooms. If you’d like to be alone, I can go over to the main house, stay there.”
JJ shook her head. “No. I don’t … I don’t want to be alone.”
“Then I’ll stay here. But I’ll give you space.”
She nodded, picking up her coffee mug. “Why would Dante come to me last night? I haven’t talked to him in months.”
Baz figured that was the million-dollar question. And unfortunately, he didn’t have an answer.
*
Brantley did his best to answer Sheriff Endsley’s questions while he watched Reese get checked out by the paramedic. The only thing he could think about was seeing Reese completely still after the blast, his limbs askew, body lifeless.
Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 4) Page 19
