Nine
NINE
Hart
Present Day
“Any news yet?”
The abysmal look on my friend’s face told me everything I needed to know. “Not yet. The family just left here, so I’ve got a mountain of information to comb through.”
I nodded my understanding and felt a wave of frustration wash over me.
Though I was proud of the work I did, I couldn’t say it left me feeling the best all the time. The job I did often came with the heavy burden of responsibility, and if one thing went wrong, it could mean devastation.
I’d been getting ready to leave for the day when I decided to stop into Landen’s office.
Landen Fox was one of my closest friends and a guy I worked with regularly at my job. Both of us worked at Harper Security Ops, but we specialized in different areas. Despite that, it wasn’t uncommon that we’d have that team effort when it came to situations where my skills were necessary.
While I worked in the kidnap and ransom unit, Landen was a private investigator. Sadly, it seemed I would need to utilize my talents—likely alongside several others in my department—as soon as Landen could solve this case.
As it turned out, there had been several women who’d gone missing. I’d gotten word a few hours ago that we were being handed this new case. Apparently, over the course of the last couple of weeks, the police had been getting reports of missing women, but they hadn’t had any success in locating them.
The reason we were now involved was because the latest woman to go missing had a family that refused to sit around doing nothing. They didn’t want their daughter to be just one more name on a list of people needing to be found. They had the means, so they’d decided to hire a private investigator to look into their daughter’s disappearance and stumbled upon Harper Security Ops.
It appeared that the family had just left after dumping more information than was likely necessary for Landen to solve the case, but it was always better to have too much than not enough.
“Can I do anything to help? Want me to sort through any of it for you?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Though it’s likely I’ll need another set of eyes at some point. I want to make sure I’ve gone over every piece of information I have on this case first. It’s the only way I’m able to work out what’s actually critical to solving the case and what is probably just superfluous.”
The only reason I offered help was merely to make sure my friend knew I was here to lend a hand if he needed it. But I knew Landen. He was very particular about how he went about solving a case, and he didn’t like to leave anything up to chance.
“Understandable. How did the meeting with the family go?”
With a shrug, he sat back in his chair as he let out a sigh. “About as well as you would expect. It’s still early for them, because she’s only been missing for seventy-two hours or so right now. They haven’t really had much of an opportunity to calm down.”
I cocked a brow. “ Only seventy-two hours?”
He rolled his eyes. “I get it. That’s not what I meant, though. I realize for them and her that it probably feels like an eternity. I was merely suggesting that it hasn’t been that long yet, so it’s unlikely the family has really been able to come to grips with the whole situation.”
“Well, if nothing else, I’m glad you’re talking about how this missing woman must feel right now, insisting that she’s still breathing. That she’s found alive is the priority.”
Landen nodded. “Exactly. And the way I see it is that we’ve got a bunch of missing women. We don’t have any bodies. Unless and until that kind of discovery is made, I’m not going to assume the worst.”
It would have been nice to be able to say that every project we were hired to handle had a positive outcome, but that wasn’t always the result. Sometimes, things didn’t work out the way we hoped. And in each of those instances, the results were devastating. For someone like Landen, that might mean realizing he’d solved a case too late. For someone in my position, it meant going into an uncertain situation to rescue an individual—or several—and having something go awry that left a person injured or worse.
Knowing that level of devastation was out there, it was imperative for us to keep a positive mindset until the worst was proven to be true. Otherwise, it’d be very easy for us to fall into the pits of despair and depression.
“Wise idea,” I advised him. “I’ll get out of your hair, so you can get to work on it, but like I said, if you need any help with this, just let me know. And obviously, the second you figure something out, I’m ready to go. Wherever it is, whomever is involved, I don’t care.”
A look of respect and appreciation washed over him. “Thanks, Anderson. I’ll keep you posted on what I find. Are you heading out?”
“Yeah, I’m done for the day.”
“Doing anything fun?”
My lips twitched as I thought about Reagan. She and I had planned to get together tonight, considering it had been a couple of days since we last saw one another. She’d had some meetings, closings, and showings throughout the week that had made it impossible for us to have an impromptu lunch break with one another. And while things were much different between us now than they had been when we’d started hooking up with one another, I still tried not to spend too many evenings going to her place.
It was a matter of self-preservation at this point.
Because the sad truth was that I liked the time I got to spend with her. It might have started off being just about the sex, but she was fun to be around. And that posed a problem when neither of us was interested in a relationship.
So, sticking to lunch visits more often made it so there was no way for feelings to get involved when I had to leave to head back to work after we had some fun. On the occasions when I’d been to her place after the workday had ended, I found myself thinking about staying the night. Of course, staying overnight wouldn’t have been about anything other than having access to her in the middle of the night.
“Oh, man. Am I the last one?”
I blinked my eyes rapidly, clearing the thoughts of Reagan from my mind, and returned my focus to Landen. “What?”
Landen’s expression indicated he was feeling rather amused, something I would have thought was great considering the seriousness of the case he was working on. “If anyone would have told me I’d get there after you, I wouldn’t have believed them, but judging by the look you got on your face after I asked you about your plans for tonight, I guess I have to face the music. Why didn’t you tell me?”
My brows pulled together as I squinted at him. “Tell you what, exactly?”
“That you’ve met someone.”
Shit.
I’d gone for just over a year now without anyone knowing a thing about Reagan. Then again, I didn’t see the need to do such a thing when there wasn’t anything between us other than a physical relationship. That, and perhaps a bit of a mutual respect and friendship. But even still, it wasn’t like I’d ever filled my coworkers in on this aspect of my personal life.
“I meet lots of people. All the time.”
He shot me an incredulous look. “Not anyone who has you looking like you just did. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Her name is Reagan, but it’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it? You came out with a name just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Which tells me she was precisely who was going through your mind when I asked about your plans for tonight. When did you meet her?”
I sighed. I could have just walked right out of here—I probably should have—but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “About a year ago.”
Landen’s eyes practically fell out of his head. “A year?”
I shrugged, tipping my head to the side as I pursed my lips.
“You met her a year ago, and you’re still seeing her?”
“Again, it’s not like that. She’s cool to be around, and she doesn’t have any expectations. We’re just having fun.”
“And enjoying it for a year at that,” he noted, his tone indicating he didn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. “I guess I would be correct to assume that you’re still seeing and hooking up with other women if things are, as you claim, not like that.”
My shoulders fell, my eyes dropping to the ground, both a silent admission of defeat. Landen had good reason to doubt me, because he’d pointed out the flaw in all the stories that I’d told myself over the last year.
I hadn’t taken another woman to bed since I’d started things up with Reagan. I told myself it was because there was no point. She was fantastic in bed, we got along great, and we both had the same understanding about what we had between us and where it would lead.
“The silence tells me everything I need to know.”
I lifted my stare to meet his. “No use in making things messy. Reagan’s proven she’s not going to go back on her word about there being no expectations. I don’t see any reason to mess with that.”
“How often do you see her?”
“Some weeks, I don’t see her at all, depending on what’s going on here and with her job, but other times, anywhere from one to three times a week.”
He narrowed his eyes on me, and the silence stretched between us.
“What?” I asked. “What’s that look about?”
Landen shot me a look of indifference. “Oh, I don’t know. Everything you’ve just shared tells me that this is precisely what a relationship is. I think you just haven’t put a label on it.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “No, it’s not. This is just a mutual understanding we have. She doesn’t know anything important about me. Not what I do or where I work. I haven’t introduced her to anybody here, and she hasn’t met my gram. I’m telling you. This is just for fun.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Okay. Keep telling yourself that. I’ll be here, working and living in reality, when you finally come to terms with the truth. And I promise not to say I told you so.”
I turned, moving toward the exit. When I made it to the doorway, I said, “You have plenty of work to keep you busy. Call me whenever you get something figured out.”
“Will do. Enjoy your night with Reagan.”
Without another word, I walked out of his office and to the front of the building to leave. I tried my best to ignore all that Landen had just said, but my efforts were futile. I couldn’t blame him for looking at things the way he did. To anyone on the outside looking in, the relationship I had with Reagan would appear to be a traditional romantic relationship. But there weren’t any dates or deeply personal conversations. Sure, we talked and teased and laughed, but it wasn’t about anything serious. She didn’t know what I did for a living, and neither of us knew a thing about what led the other to a place where a romantic relationship was off the table completely. Reagan didn’t talk about her family or friends. I didn’t talk about mine.
And yes, there had been moments when I considered what it might be like to take things to the next level with her. It would have been difficult not to when she seemed perfect for me in every way. I guess it was the respect I’d developed for her. I wouldn’t go back on my word, and I wouldn’t do something to risk what we had now.
Maybe it wasn’t ideal or expected or reasonable to anybody else, but it worked for us. I didn’t need to explain it to anyone. As long as Reagan and I were happy with how things were, that was all that mattered to me.
Not quite an hour after I left work, I pulled into the driveway at Reagan’s place, noting her car parked in the spot that it always was. If nothing else, I’d certainly developed a bit of a familiarity with her and the things she did—where she parked, how she decorated, the way she giggled sometimes. The corners of my mouth tipped up as I thought about that sound.
But the smile was quickly wiped off my face the second I made it to her front door. Because the door was cracked open.
Working where I did, seeing the things I’d seen, it was no surprise I spent a lot of time reminding Reagan about being careful. While I’d never seen her accidentally forget to close her front door, there was no question she didn’t take the necessary precautions to keep herself safe when she was out and about. I could sneak up on her like it was nothing.
I knocked lightly on the door, pushed it open, and called out for her. “Reagan?”
She didn’t respond.
Stepping farther into the house, I called her name again. Still nothing. And that’s when an eerie feeling settled over me. My stomach dropped, and I suddenly found it difficult to swallow.
Refusing to believe the worst, I headed for the stairs and took them two at a time. “Reagan!”
I ran to her bedroom, threw open the door, and saw nothing but her neatly made bed, looking like it always did. She wasn’t lounging in the bathtub in the master bathroom, either.
Even though I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wouldn’t find her in any other room on the second floor, I flung open every door and called out her name. She never answered.
I raced down the stairs again, praying she’d gone to sit outside on her deck to watch the birds and enjoy the sun.
There was no sign of her.
My heart was pounding, my head was spinning, and I was breathing like I’d just run a marathon.
I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I found her name on my list of recent calls and tapped on the screen. A moment later, I heard a buzzing sound coming from not more than a few feet away from me.
Looking to my left side, Reagan’s phone was vibrating on the table. I ran over, picked it up, and ended the call. Immediately, I went through the apps on the phone and saw the one for her security system.
Thankfully, Reagan had a camera outside her house.
Things went from bad to worse.
I saw it happen. I watched as not more than five minutes after Reagan came home on her lunch break, a black SUV pulled into her driveway. Two men got out—neither one the driver—and walked up to her front door. I heard her voice as she greeted them after she opened the door. And then I watched as they pushed their way inside after her. The app showed it was less than five minutes later when her lifeless body was carried out of the house, and she was thrown into the back of the SUV.
Bile rose in my throat.
There was a heaviness in my chest and limbs I couldn’t escape. She’d been gone for hours.
Whole entire hours.
Nothing in that video told me if she was still alive. I prayed she was, but I worried about the horrors she’d be facing by whomever took her.
Worse, was she part of this same ring of missing women?
I glanced down at the table again, noting her journal there. Just as I was about to look away, I saw my name. Then I read what was there, and it made me sick.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t read her private thoughts like this. I’d asked her about her journal before when she’d left it out and I’d shown up unexpectedly at her place. She indicated enough that it acted like a diary of sorts for her, and even though I’d done some teasing with her at the time about it, deep down, I knew it was wise to steer clear.
Tearing my attention away from it, I found Reagan’s keys, left the house, and locked up. Then I hopped back in my truck and took off to work.
And the whole way there, I couldn’t get the sound of her voice and the image of her being carried to the car out of my head.