Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
F orty-eight hours later, Nash’s sat phone buzzed as he watched Haisley pretend to read by the window. Despite her supposed focus on the book, her shoulders tensed at the sound. No doubt she was wondering if it was news about the investigation.
“Jasper King here.” He kept his voice casual and reminded himself to watch his words.
“Got news about the Benedict case.” Hunter’s voice crackled through the encryption. “Get this. The body of the woman found in the burned-out Benedict house? Not Mila.”
Nash’s pulse quickened, but he forced himself to sound bored. “You sure?”
If George hadn’t offed his wife before turning the gun on himself…then who had he killed? And why?
From the moment he’d heard about the conveniently timed murder-suicide, he’d thought the situation seemed sus. Now his gut told him it was even sketchier than he’d believed.
“Dental records confirmed it. Police also pulled the Benedicts’ video doorbell footage and interviewed neighbors. The woman who died with George Benedict? She’s taller than Mila. Our working theory now is the body recovered at the scene might be the mistress, Caroline Walsh. She’s still missing. They’re pulling her dental records to confirm.”
Nash’s mind raced. He needed to tell Haisley, but with Gray having been so suspicious of him, he couldn’t risk taking her to the shower or the beach for another “private moment.” It would have to wait.
“Sounds like a plan. Timeline?” Nash glanced Haisley’s way. She turned another page, maintaining her facade of disinterest, but her fingers tightened on her book. She was hanging on every word.
“Probably a week or two. Since I heard the news, I’ve been asking myself a question: if Mila isn’t dead, where did she go? Until about an hour ago, we had no idea. Then, we ran across the parking lot cam of a business down the street. It captured footage of Mila leaving the Benedict Land Development building the night you and Haisley broke in. Are you sitting?”
Nash braced himself on the arm of the sofa beside Haisley. “Close enough.”
“She was abducted. Dragged into an alley about a block from her car and thrown into a brown conversion van. No one has seen her since.”
Holy shit . Mila had become a victim, too? That was a twist he hadn’t seen coming.
Was she taken on her husband’s orders? Surely, he’d been dead by then. If George hadn’t been guilty…who else would want her out of the way? Had she seen or heard something the night of the break-in? She’d been so rattled…
Where was she now? If she’d been abducted by the same assholes as Haisley, surely they’d brought her to the Velvet Cove…
His questions—and their implications—were like a broadside blow. His head reeled. This development suggested George Benedict hadn’t been the mastermind behind all these disappearances, but merely another piece of the puzzle.
“You don’t say. Anyone following up? If not, heads should roll,” he drawled, doing his best to make it sound like a business issue.
“FBI is getting involved,” Hunter assured. “They’ll probably take point soon. Have you encountered Mila on the island at all?”
“No.”
“She wasn’t up for sale during the auction. Where could she be?”
“Not sure. Maybe the next one?”
“Maybe. Any chance Haisley has seen her?”
“I haven’t heard that, but I’ll ask around and let you know.”
“Do that—ASAP. I’m itchy. This thing is bigger than anyone realized. I mean, that footage Kane sent after last night’s party… That shit is mind-blowing. And explosive as hell.”
“Yep.” Nash kept his tone businesslike. “I was a bit surprised myself. Probably shouldn’t have been, but…”
“We’re running facial recognition, but yeah. The implications…” Hunter blew out a breath. “Half those faces could destabilize governments if what Kane captured got out. Think one of them could be Black Velvet, trying to blend in?”
“That’s not the way I read this situation.” In Nash’s estimation, anyone who’d created a place like the Velvet Cove enjoyed their power too much to fly under the radar.
“You’re probably right. Everyone captured on that footage behaved more like a customer than a coconspirator.”
“Exactly. And I’ve also heard rumors suggesting otherwise. I’d look for something soon.”
“Keep me posted. I expect the FBI will start piecing things together soon. I’ll be interested to hear their theories.”
“Same.”
“Oh, I heard you connected with Karliah?” Hunter asked.
“I did. Good meeting.”
“We’re close to something here, Nash. I can feel it. Mila’s disappearance, the trafficking ring, and this island… It’s all connected. We just need that one thread we can follow to unravel it.”
“Agreed.” Nash’s frustration bled through despite his attempt at nonchalance. “Anything else?”
“You two okay?”
Nash pulled at the back of his neck, studying Haisley’s profile. Though last night’s party hadn’t gone exactly as planned, she was holding herself together. Still, he saw the cracks beneath her brave face. Pride and worry warred in his chest. She was so damn strong. He wanted to carry more of this burden for her, but Haisley had always been independent. She wasn’t the sort of woman to sit back and let him solve her problems for her. She certainly wasn’t going to let him solve this one alone.
“Mostly. Nothing’s perfect, right?”
“Keep your eyes open. And be careful. When this thing blows, it’s going to be huge.”
“I feel that. Thanks for the call.”
After disconnecting, Nash watched Haisley turn another page she hadn’t actually read. The stoic front she’d put on twisted his heart. She had trusted him enough to be vulnerable, to let him protect her through that drug-hazed nightmare. They’d been a team.
But secrets still stood between them. Why the hell did she keep refusing to talk about her mysterious pregnancy? Her reasons for leaving him? Granted, they couldn’t talk freely here, but she’d had a chance or two. Even now, after everything they’d been through, she seemed no closer to divulging the truth.
He wanted to go to her, ask her to confide in him, swear that she could trust him, and vow they’d survive this hell with their souls intact if they just stuck together. But how could he make that promise when he wasn’t sure himself?
If Mila was here somewhere on the island, possibly being held in some hidden section of the compound, what did that mean? How could they ensure she was freed, too? Nash didn’t want to leave behind another victim, especially not another one who, like Haisley, had probably been sucked into this whole mess by George Benedict.
But it begged the question, if Benedict had been the mastermind and he’d gotten both Haisley and Mila out of his way…why had he killed his mistress and offed himself?
The answer: likely because he’d been a cog in the giant wheel of this rotten ring. Maybe Benedict had been messy. Maybe he’d fucked up, and the real mastermind had seen no option but to put him down. And maybe…Nash was way off base.
Either way, when they blew this case wide open, he’d find all the answers. For now, he had to believe they were closing in. Somewhere on this island was the key to ending this fucking mess. They just had to find it before time ran out.
Or before life on this island shattered Haisley.
The following afternoon, Haisley approached the spa with trepidation, mirroring the dark storm clouds gathering outside. A distant rumble of thunder made her shiver as she approached the elegant facade, which somehow felt less threatening than during her first terrifying visit. Maybe because Nash had sent her here with a purpose. With all internet and outside communications mysteriously down across the island for the past twenty-four hours, they desperately needed to connect.
The timing seemed suspicious since Black Velvet was rumored to arrive soon. But it also meant Nash couldn’t contact his bosses or his brother or get updates. Did they have any updates on Mila? Nash and Kane didn’t know; they were flying blind.
At least she’d meet this new operative, posing as a hairdresser. Nash claimed Karliah was nice. After that crazy party in the Rose Room Saturday night, she wouldn’t hate having another ally on this island—a woman who understood what it was like to be living this hell—even if Karliah was here by choice.
“Welcome! I’m Karliah.” A pretty blonde shook Haisley’s hand with a friendly smile. “After I met Master Jasper, I’ve been hoping you’d come in. That island sun and salt air can be brutal on hair as gorgeous as yours.”
The woman’s genuine warmth put Haisley at ease. But she was here for information. They needed to know if Karliah had seen Mila. And she needed to be careful about how she asked this question.
“You think? I saw this woman a few weeks back. She had this stylish long bob. It hit about here.” She pointed to her collarbones. “Her hair was a caramel brown, and she was a bit older, but it was perfect with her blue eyes and short stature. Maybe you’ve seen something like that? Maybe it would look good on me?”
Karliah looked contemplative as she led Haisley to the shampoo bowl. “Sounds lovely. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen anything like that lately, especially since I’ve been here. I’ll keep my eyes open. But honestly. Your hair really is beautiful. It would be a shame to cut it. And I can’t without Master Jasper’s permission.”
So the undercover operative hadn’t seen Mila on the island. Then again, Karliah hadn’t been here for long.
As the woman settled Haisley into the chair and under the spray, the warm water and gentle massage began melting the tension from her shoulders. Outside, rain began pattering against the windows. “You’re good at this.”
“Thanks. My mom was a hairdresser, so I grew up in her salon. I’ve always loved making people feel better about themselves.” Karliah’s nimble fingers worked away days of stress. “Are you a reader?”
The question surprised Haisley. She lowered her voice. “Don’t we have to limit our conversations to the treatments?”
“On your first trip to the spa. After that, management allows some small talk. I think reading fits that description.”
No idea why Karliah wanted to discuss books, but maybe she had a plan? “Sure. Reading is my guilty pleasure.”
“Mine, too! OMG, I’m so glad to find another bibliophile. TV just doesn’t do a thing for me.”
“I’m not a huge fan, either.”
“A kindred spirit!” Karliah squeed. “I’ve been reading this amazing book. I can’t remember the author’s name. Flowers and skulls on the cover. All the rage on social media lately…”
Where was this woman going with this conversation? Nash must have sent her here to pass information, so Haisley played along. “Oh? Do you remember the title?”
“No. I read so much they blur together sometimes.”
“Same here.”
“I’m hoping you’ve read this one. It was fantastic, and the heroine reminds me so much of you.”
Haisley caught her meaning. Information disguised as fiction. “Oh? Tell me more.”
“It’s a super juicy romantic suspense, which is my absolute favorite genre. So…this heroine is trapped in an impossible situation. Like a pressure cooker, you know? These people try to break her, hurt her. She has others working to help her. She knows that, but she’s not sure if she can trust them, even when the rescue plan is almost ready. Does that sound familiar? Hate that I can’t remember the title or author.”
Haisley’s heart caught in her throat. After what she and Nash had endured—the drugs, the public claiming, the way he’d sheltered her as best he could while maintaining their cover—the parallel hit very close to home. “Oh, that does sound familiar. I think I started that one, but my copy is at home and… Do you know how it ends?”
“I’m not done yet. I’ve gotten to the point where the heroine has all these people infiltrating the bad guys’ operation so they can help her. These people came up with a rescue plan, but they keep having to change it because of the stuff that’s happening around them. Stuff the bad guys are up to.” As Karliah began sectioning off Haisley’s hair, their eyes met in the mirror.
A jagged bolt of lightning briefly lit up the spa’s interior, followed by an ominous clap of thunder, making Haisley jump.
The blonde gave a nervous laugh. “Wow, I heard a storm was rolling in.”
“A bad one?”
“It’s looking that way.”
“Thankfully, it’s not hurricane season.”
“Amen to that. Anyhow, the book… Where I’m at now, the good guys are about to launch the rescue operation. I’m biting my nails. I didn’t want to come to work today because I’m dying to know what happens next. In order to really make their scheme work, the heroine has to trust the hero completely—no holding back. But she doesn’t yet. I kind of want to shake her.”
The heroine in this “novel” was holding back…as she had been from Nash. Karliah was giving her a message.
Guilt gnawed at Haisley’s stomach. “Do you know why she doesn’t trust the guy?”
“Not exactly. It’s a fascinating subplot with a hint of mystery. My theory is that the heroine thinks the hero might be interested in someone else who’s really just in on the escape plan, but I’m not sure yet. I need to read more.”
Haisley’s heart clenched. Did Karliah think Nash’s “flirtation” with her was the only obstacle standing between him and Haisley? It wasn’t that simple. The weight of her past and the true reason she’d left him sat like lead in her chest. Every time she thought about telling him, terror closed her throat.
“I remember that,” Haisley told the blonde. “I think there was a lot more to the situation, though. Probably more than she’s letting on. At least that was my interpretation.”
“Really? If that’s true, it must really be a really tangled web. I can’t wait to find out what happens, but I keep rooting for the heroine to figure out that everything—even that other woman—is all part of the plan.” Karliah applied product to Haisley’s hair. “Every move is calculated, even the parts that hurt. The hero has to maintain appearances, play certain roles, but his heart? That never wavers. He’s moving heaven and earth to save the woman he loves. Risking everything . Makes impossible choices that tear him apart.” She met Haisley’s eyes in the mirror again. “I just don’t think the heroine can see it because she’s too close to the story. And maybe the thing you caught in your reading that I missed is the reason why.”
Haisley’s chest tightened. Nash’s flirtation with Karliah had been a careful act designed to maintain his cover. While she’d been nursing her hurt feelings, he had been orchestrating their survival. She’d let her own fears and insecurities blind her to the bigger picture.
Say you’ve never worked on a covert mission without telling me you’ve never worked on a covert mission, she drawled in her head.
Nash had infiltrated this place, subjected himself to their surveillance, performed unspeakable acts onstage—all in his attempt to protect her. And how had she repaid him? By letting old hurts and secrets create distance between them that could have endangered them both.
Karliah’s message couldn’t have been clearer: you need to decide who to trust—the monsters who took you, or the man willing to die to save you?
The answer was obvious. Haisley had been so focused on her fears that she’d lost sight of what mattered. Nash loved her. Was fighting for her. And her inability to fully trust him wasn’t just hurting their relationship. It was compromising their safety.
“Maybe. I hope Mr. King will get me another copy so I can finish the book myself.” Haisley attempted a smile. “Thanks for the book rec. I miss my friends.” Her heart ached thinking of Madison’s fierce loyalty, Charli’s kindness, and Gracelyn’s infectious laugh. “They’re total book fiends, too. We’re always talking plots and swapping paperbacks.”
“I’ve moved so much for work that I don’t really have bookish friends.”
Another clap of thunder crashed even closer as she met Karliah’s gentle gaze in the mirror. Haisley silently vowed to adopt her into the girl posse if they made it out alive and if Karliah ever came to Lafayette. Even if she was undercover, the woman’s kindness felt genuine.
“Well, you’ve got me now,” Haisley said as Karliah artfully dried her hair into loose waves. “We can talk books anytime. I hope you catch up to me in this one. Sounds like this heroine needs a reminder that the biggest leap of faith is letting go of our walls when everything tells us to keep them up.”
“That’s an astute observation. I’ve seen a lot, met a lot of people.” Something haunted flickered in Karliah’s eyes. “Enough to know that love like his is rare. I hope this heroine sees that soon.”
By the time Karliah finished, Haisley’s hair looked amazing, but the transformation inside felt even more profound. She had been clinging to her hurt about Nash’s JasperThePrivateDick deception, using it as a shield against deeper fears. But she couldn’t afford that luxury anymore. Not when lives hung in the balance.
And not when the man she loved was risking everything to save her.
“I think she will,” Haisley murmured, meaning so much more than a fictional heroine. “Thank you.”
Karliah’s answering smile held understanding. “Anytime. Come back soon. I’m sure we’ll have more books to discuss.”
“No doubt.”
Haisley left with a wave, dashing through a quick break in the rain. She headed for the suite, feeling lighter, despite the guards tracking her every move. The dark clouds were rolling in and the wind had picked up, whipping her freshly styled hair, but she barely noticed. Nash and their relationship filled all her thoughts.
She had to make a change, fully embrace Nash, and trust him the way he deserved. No more holding back. No more letting fear rule her decisions.
Telling Nash the truth about why she’d really left would mean ripping open her most painful wounds. But he deserved to know. And maybe, just maybe, sharing that burden would help them both heal.
She just prayed she found a way to tell him her deepest, darkest secret before it was too late.