He made quick work of shredding some of the hamburger meat, giving it a chance to cool before reaching back between the seats and setting it on the floor.
“The rental company’s gonna hate me,” he rambled. “It’s all yours, buddy. Eat up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
Rather than dig into his own meal, Brantley waited, snatching fries here and there, watching the sliding doors for Reese to return. When he finally did—carrying three large plastic bags full of God only knew what—Brantley smiled to himself.
“Told you. And to think, Christmas ain’t for another month and a half,” he mumbled. “Yep. You aren’t gonna know what hit you. I know I damn sure didn’t.”
Reese didn’t get in; instead, he opened the back passenger door, set his loot on the seat, and began rummaging through the bags. The dog was sitting between the bucket seats, watching him with both curiosity and a hint of fear.
“I got more water,” Brantley told him, passing back another bottle.
“Perfect.” Reese produced a small collapsible blue bowl, poured water in.
“He chowed down while you were gone.” Brantley glanced back between the seats at the white paper on the floor, grinned when he saw it was empty. “Ate every bite.”
After setting the water bowl in front of the dog, Reese went to work removing the collar around his neck, then popping on a new one. This one was chocolate brown. The leash he dragged out of the bag matched. No frills, thank God. He only prayed Reese hadn’t bought the dog a sweater. He might have to put his foot down then. The dog deserved some dignity.
“Why don’t you get up here and eat,” Brantley suggested. “He’ll probably need to make a bathroom run in a bit. The least we can do is give him some time.”
Reese nodded, but before he joined Brantley in the front seats, he pulled out a blanket, laid it over the rubber floor mat, then put a dog bed on the other side.
Brantley couldn’t help it, he laughed. “You coulda told me you love dogs.”
A smile formed on Reese’s mouth as he closed the back door and then got into the front passenger seat.
Brantley passed over Reese’s food bag before tearing into his own.
“There’s an extra burger,” he told Reese around a mouthful of fries, “but I didn’t want him to overdo it.”
While Reese ate, he continuously peered behind them.
“I need to call Kennedy,” Reese said. “I’m hopin’ she can fit her in when we get back to Coyote Ridge.”
Yes, Kennedy Walker—his cousin Sawyer’s wife—was the town veterinarian. And it didn’t surprise him one bit that Reese was already thinking ahead, figuring out what was necessary to take care of the dog. Though he probably wouldn’t admit it, Reese was the nurturing sort. He was the first to take care of people. Brantley knew firsthand because it had been that caring side that had brought Reese to his bed in the first place. Albeit completely platonic thanks to the migraine Brantley had suffered.
“You think they’ll even notice?” Reese asked, peering back at the dog while he took a bite of his burger.
“Doubtful. If they do, I’m sure they won’t sweat it for a second. Not like they’ll go lookin’ for him. You come up with a name yet?”
“Tesha,” Reese said quickly. “It’s an Indian name for survivor.”
“You know this how?”
“Smartphone.” He grinned. “Internet.”
Brantley considered it then recalled what Reese just said. “I like it. But you said you hoped Kennedy could get her in.” He peered at her in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, little lady. Didn’t mean to offend.”After they ate, Reese took Tesha for a quick walk to do her doggy business, but it appeared she was gun-shy. Rather than wait, Brantley decided to make a trip over to the high school so he could talk to the principal, see what information they could get on Tanner Wright. It wouldn’t surprise him one bit if they knew more about the kid than his own parents. They were the ones who had contacted the detective, after all.
“You hang here with Tesha,” he told Reese as he parked in a visitor’s spot. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
The school he entered was nothing like the small-town high school he’d attended. This one was more like a college with its enormous campus and numerous outbuildings. He managed to make his way inside, past some metal detectors, which automatically went off and required him to flash his badge and his credentials, then into the office, where he found an older woman sitting behind a computer, glasses balancing precariously on the tip of her nose while her fingers were tapping away on the keys.
“Can I help you?” She looked up. Only her eyes.
“I’d like to speak to the principal,” he said, holding up his badge.
