6. Declan
6
DECLAN
W alking in the garage door, a ruckus of activity drifted through the house toward me. I followed the sound of voices to the living room that overlooked the backyard.
Instead of trying to wedge myself into the room, I stayed in the back hallway. The house wasn’t fucking tiny, but with as many people filling it and all the guys being big as fuck, the walls were caving in.
I leaned against the wall and let my head fall back while we waited for Jackie’s girlfriend to make an appearance. Her off-stage persona was so much different than what I’d found online. Last night, sitting in Jackson’s arms, she was this beautiful, young woman in a scary situation—shy, quiet, a bit socially awkward. Online, she was anything but, and that was who called out as she came down the stairs.
“Alright, let’s get to work. I’m tired of running from this jerk,” she called, and I bit back a chuckle.
She continued into the living room, and Jackie let the news of her nominations out of the bag. How her fucking father didn’t already know was beyond me. While everyone praised her, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I checked it and headed out of the house to take the call.
“Hey, Cato.”
“Where’s the big boss? I tried calling him first.”
“He’s busy with the entourage in the house. There’s so damn many people here I don’t know how we’re going to make this work. And the girl’s dad brought in his own people.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”
“No clue yet. We’ve only met one of them. We’ve been waiting on them to arrive. So far, we’re just getting the lay of the land. The girl’s dad is a police chief…”
“Fucking useless wastes of space,” Cato growled under his breath.
Unlike some of the others, I knew Cato’s background. Years embedded in a secret high society organization of human traffickers had colored his perspective. I got it; the organization had dirt on everyone, and they bought off those they didn’t have in their pockets or threatened them.
“Not all law enforcement officers are like the ones you dealt with in your previous life.”
“Power corrupts, dude.”
“You have power. So do I.”
“Yes. We do. But not like that. Now, do you want to hear what I found out?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing.”
“What? Whattya mean nothin’?”
Nothing was a response I’d ever heard from his mouth.
“You heard me. Nothing. I even reached out to someone I trust from the old days. Nothing. And if I can’t find it and Tavish can’t find it…”
“It can’t be found.”
“No. Not can’t be found. It doesn’t fucking exist, cowboy. At least not with the info we have.”
“Are you saying she’s making it up?”
“Not at all. He attacked her in Jersey. I found some camera footage, but the angles are all wrong.”
“So, facial rec is a no-go, I take it?”
“Yeah, but I tried anyway. No jolly. The info she gave the police in Jersey is spot on, though, for height and weight. We’re just missing a critical piece of the puzzle, and until we can find it, the guy’s a ghost.”
I sighed, groaning as I scrubbed my free hand over my face into my hair. “Where do we go from here?”
“I can start running employees, band members, road crew, everyone, and anyone.”
“I’m sure her dad has done that already.”
“You wanna risk Jackie’s life on that assumption?”
“No, but give me a bit, and I’ll get back to you with a list of names. As for you, start running the people at the record label.”
“On it.”
The call ended before I could respond, and I made my way back inside.