Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVEN
O n Sunday afternoon, Nash stretched out on his battered leather couch, nursing a cold beer as the Packers-Vikings game flickered across his TV screen. Despite the fact nearly forty-eight hours had passed since New Year’s Eve, his thoughts kept drifting back to the scorching kiss he’d laid on Haisley. Even mass amounts of tequila couldn’t dim the memory of her soft curves molded against his body, those sinful lips under his as he devoured her for the first time in two agonizing years.
His blood ran hot, despite the lingering chill of the winter morning. Then again, the gorgeous redhead had always set him on fire. From the moment he’d met her, Haisley’s saucy aloofness had ignited him. During their year together, his instant and burning need to give her pleasure had become a never-ending urge to make her his.
The shrill ring of his cellphone shattered his reverie. Nash frowned at the familiar number flashing across the display and braced himself. “Hey, boss. Happy New Year.”
“Yep. Same to you.” Hunter Edgington was a former SEAL, and, as usual, the man’s gruff tone signaled that he had no patience for pleasantries. “We’ve got a new job, and you’re up.”
So much for a lazy afternoon indulging in fantasies about Haisley naked in his bed as his lips blazed kisses across her skin, down to focus on her sweet, dripping pussy. Nash sat up straighter. “What’s the op?”
“Heard anything about young women going missing from that new mall?”
Holy shit. Someone had hired EM Security to look into this case? And Hunter was assigning him? After Nash had agreed to study it with Haisley? Talk about ironic…
If his hunch was right, Nash understood why Hunter had prefaced his new assignment with that question. The disappearances had barely made a blip in the local press. In the last couple of days, he’d looked. All he’d found were a few vague bulletins quickly buried in the local news cycle.
“Not nearly as much as I should be. I’m smelling a cover-up.” Like someone rich and powerful was working overtime to keep a tight lid on the whole sordid mess.
Hunter grunted in grim agreement. “That’s my read, too. After the most recent disappearance, the mall’s developer, George Benedict, hired EM Security to get to the bottom of the incidents. I think we’re his out with the press and law enforcement so he can claim he’s doing ‘everything possible’ to stop the abductions.”
Nash frowned. He didn’t know much about the wealthy local real estate mogul, just whispers—mostly that Benedict was a blowhard whose sole concerns were making money and preserving his interests. Dealing with him and his BS wasn’t something Nash was looking forward to, but business was business.
“Know if he’s done anything to stop the abductions prior to hiring us?”
“From what I can gather, the minimum for optics. He upgraded the tech some and hired a few new guards. That kind of shit. Nothing actually likely to stop the kidnappings.”
Hunter was rarely wrong, and Nash agreed with his boss’s assessment. “Think Benedict has anything to do with these disappearances?”
“Anything is possible.”
“We doing recon on him, too, or just running a straightforward op?” Nash scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw.
“For now, we play nice and keep this aboveboard,” Hunter insisted. “EM Security will handle the investigation into those missing women, end of story. But if the trail leads you to Benedict, we’ll start sorting his dirty laundry. Quietly, mind you. He can’t know.”
Nash huffed, resigning himself to navigating the situation with kid gloves—at least for the time being. Looking for angles and ulterior motives was second nature to him, but he couldn’t deny the urgency of this case. Five young women had gone missing under very suspicious circumstances from the same spot in the last handful of months—and since powerful players were doing their damnedest to keep that buried, Nash suspected the case would be rough.
Under his online alias, he’d have to be careful about feeding Haisley and her inquisitive spirit too many details. The last thing Nash wanted was to put her in harm’s way, especially if this case turned as insidious as his gut warned. She was clever—sometimes too much. She loved to snoop and dig, so he’d have to keep her part of the investigation chewing on theories and information while she stayed safely at home. Unfortunately, he couldn’t shake the worry that she might push to get deeper. Or worse, start her own investigation.
“Understood,” he said at length. “What are my marching orders?”
“Report to Benedict’s office at ten hundred tomorrow for briefing and standby. I’m slotting Ethan to partner with you. He needs the experience of dealing with difficult clients and not just saying fuck you to authority all the time. I’m counting on you to make sure he doesn’t trip over his own dick out there.”
A reluctant grin tugged at Nash’s mouth. No surprise that Hunter wanted him to babysit Ethan. His housemate had slowly become a friend, but Nash knew the kid’s weaknesses. One of them was his short temper, especially when he perceived injustice…or when someone in a position of power tried to tell him what to do. He could balance Ethan. And together, they’d proven that, despite bending the rules occasionally, they got results.
“Roger that.”
“I need you to listen.” Hunter’s insistent bark pulled Nash from his musings. “This must be an airtight op. We’ll be dealing with the press and some powerful people in this town. No deviating from protocol or pulling that shady, back-alley shit you two loose screws seem to favor.”
Nash held back a mirthless chuckle. So much for operational flexibility. “I read you loud and clear, boss. We’ll be model fucking Boy Scouts.”
“Sure you will.” The muffled sound of feminine sarcasm filtered through. No doubt that was Hunter’s wife, Kata.
“I’m serious,” Hunter insisted. “Handle this clean and by the book, or there will be hell to pay.”
“We’re on it.”
Hunter ended the call with a grunt of a goodbye, leaving Nash alone once more with his swirling thoughts. He strode toward the bathroom for a much-needed, scalding-hot shower. If today was his last day off before the grim case started sucking up most of his time, he wanted to see Haisley.
They had some talking to do.
If she gave him a chilly reception, he wouldn’t be daunted. He’d simply drop in to her CSI online group as JasperThePrivateDick and engage her about theories. No doubt, she’d already started sifting through whatever information she could find. Besides, now that he’d be working this case, might as well start piecing together what information he could.
As the pounding stream rinsed away the residue of his earlier workout, Nash steeled his resolve. One way or another, he would unravel the secrets behind the disappearances of these women while rekindling his connection with Haisley. He wouldn’t quit, wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t give up until everything was right.
And no offense to Hunter, but whatever rules Nash had to bend—or outright break—to make it happen… Well, like always, he’d do what needed to be done.
* * *
Haisley smoothed her hand over her sleek black skirt as she strode into the historic building in downtown Lafayette, hoping her nerves didn’t show. Today marked a fresh start for her, a chance to establish herself professionally in her hometown. Her new employer might deal in land acquisition, development, and maintenance, but their online presence was somewhere between old school and nonexistent. It needed a strategic overhaul and a fresh approach. She was determined to give it to them and up her own stock in the process.
The expansive lobby, a blend of old and new world charm, gleamed with polished marble and glass, providing an air of understated luxury. Haisley drew in a steadying breath and approached the curved reception desk where a stylishly dressed young woman offered her a warm smile.
“Good morning.”
“Hi, I’m Haisley Rowe.” She repositioned her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “I’m starting with Benedict Land Development today.”
The receptionist’s smile brightened. “Mr. Benedict is expecting you. Take the elevator to the fourth floor. I’ll call up there and let someone know you’re coming.”
“Thank you,” Haisley called back as she hustled to the elevator.
After the ding and the doors opened again, she stepped off. Another receptionist sitting behind a giant desk emblazoned with the company name in big, gold letters pressed the phone to her ear and jotted a message while waving her into a nearby chair.
Crossing one leg over the other, Haisley managed a tight smile as the butterflies dive-bombed her belly.
An imposing, broad-shouldered man in a tailored charcoal suit strode toward her, hand outstretched. “Ms. Rowe?”
When his gruff bark cracked through the quiet opulence of the lobby, she shot to her feet and plastered on her most confident smile. Despite the graying at his temples and the faint lines around his eyes, he carried himself with a robust vitality. Clearly, this man was a doer. If that was their corporate culture, she should fit right in.
“Mr. Benedict?” She shook his hand.
He gave her a cursory once-over, then nodded. “Welcome aboard. After our phone interviews, it’s good to meet you in person. Welcome to Benedict Land Development.”
“Thank you. It’s great to put a face with a name. I’m thrilled to be here—and back home in Louisiana.”
He sauntered past the reception desk and motioned her to follow before he turned toward a maze of workspaces. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to a few key players and show you to your desk. The rest of the team can fill in the blanks as you get settled.”
Haisley fell into step beside him, her kitten heels clicking against the gleaming floors. Along the way, Mr. Benedict pointed out various workgroups. Each stopped to give her a polite smile before resuming their work. She did her best to commit their names and locations to memory.
“In that corner, next to the window, is your desk. You’ll have an assistant once we hire someone. I thought you might want to be part of the process.”
“I would. Thank you.”
“The rest of your team—Angela, Curtis, and Blake—is looking forward to your fresh perspective and the experience you gleaned in LA.”
The trio glanced up, offering tepid nods of acknowledgment. Clearly, she would need to earn their respect. She’d been there and done that when she’d first arrived in LA. She’d eventually win them over.
“Mila!” Mr. Benedict hollered as they veered down a hall lined with offices.
“You bellowed, husband?” A lilting feminine voice drew Haisley’s attention toward the open door of a nearby office.
A petite, polished woman about a dozen years the boss’s junior emerged with a warm smile, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Dressed in a smart blazer and slim-cut trousers, Mila Benedict projected a friendly, effortless elegance.
“I’m showing Haisley the ropes.” Mr. Benedict’s intimidating edges softened as his wife sidled closer. “Mila, this is Haisley Rowe. Haisley, my wife, Mila.”
“It’s lovely to meet you.” The woman enveloped her hand in a gentle squeeze, her delicate ring finger adorned with a huge, glimmering diamond. “Hopefully, you’ll breathe some fresh life into our branding.”
“That’s my goal, Mrs. Benedict. I’m excited to get started.”
“Oh, please, call me Mila. The last thing we need around here is more formality. Isn’t that right, George?” She sent her husband a teasing glance, laughing when he huffed. “Why don’t you get settled in, then we’ll debrief you on everything. I’m sorry to say we’ve got something of an emergency on our hands, so today will be a bit of a fire drill.”
“In my last position, change and chaos were constant. I’m used to it, and I’ll contribute in any way I can.”
George grunted, then doubled back and began leading her toward the open room full of desks.
Frowning, she called to Mila over her shoulder, “Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll convene.”
As the woman nodded, she and Mr. Benedict rounded the corner. Was he that impatient for her to get started? Or was he always dismissive of his wife? The politest way to describe his demeanor during their interview was brusque. Just now, he’d all but tugged her away. The whole thing felt borderline rude.
No wonder the job had come with such great pay. Her new boss had a reputation for being an asshole. Haisley suspected he’d earned it.
“Tell me something, Miss Rowe,” he muttered as he stopped in front of the coffeemaker tucked in the corner and began brewing a cup. “Coffee?”
“I had a cup at home, thanks.”
Mr. Benedict sighed. “What do you think this company’s greatest social media challenge is?”
She hadn’t expected to be put on the spot so soon, but she’d already given this question a lot of thought. “I see a couple of areas of opportunity for you. First, the average person doesn’t have a great opinion of land developers and real-estate moguls in general. I mean, everyone wants to be rich, but no one likes people who are rich.”
He barked out a laugh. “That’s true, but?—”
“Not your biggest problem, I know. The second issue is that you’ve made a career out of creating retail spaces all over the South, but a lot of them are malls…which are slowly dying.”
“Because you Gen-Z and Millennial types would rather shop on your phones than change out of your pajama pants, comb your hair, leave your houses, and interact with actual people.”
It was Haisley’s turn to laugh. “Guilty. But right now, your biggest problem is something else entirely. Something you don’t know how to stop.”
George paused. “I’m listening.”
“You’re struggling with the disappearances of those young women at Oakfield Mall, right?”
Surprise crossed his face. “You’ve heard about that, huh? Tell me what you know.”
“Only what’s trickled out: that a handful of young women have gone missing these past few months, but nothing comprehensive or detailed. I’ll bet that’s by design. You’ve largely kept a lid on this situation. Normally, the local press would have screamed these salacious headlines. But they’ve barely reported on the incidents.”
Still, if the disturbing string of missing persons became common knowledge, the shit would hit the fan. Mr. Benedict had to be prepared for that possibility. The best defense was a good offense—or however the saying went.
“Because I’ve done everything in my power to keep the situation contained. For reasons that should be obvious.”
George Benedict was clearly more interested in saving his financial ass than the young women who had vanished without a trace. He’d squelched their stories and buried their search efforts under a thick veneer of silence. How long before the victims faded from public consciousness altogether, leaving those captured without hope?
Haisley understood his decision from a business perspective—but she hated it. How could he live with himself as a man? As a human being? “I see.”
“I told the local press I would pull my significant advertising budget if they didn’t keep their mouths shut. In the rare instances that didn’t work, I threatened to sue. So most of the reporting has been page-six stuff, and my name has never been mentioned.” He scowled. “You disapprove.”
Haisley wasn’t surprised that her face gave her away. “People aren’t stupid. You’re well known in this part of the state, and I’m sure they remember the fanfare when the mall opened last spring. The most recent disappearance happening on Christmas Eve was particularly heartrending. That terrified moms everywhere. Has foot traffic been down since?”
“Yes. But I expected that. Christmas is over.”
“Still, these problems must be making an impact.” And whether she disapproved or not, he’d hired her to do a job. “You need an image rehab that shows you’re concerned about customers’ safety without admitting culpability. We’ve got to get you positive community vibes. That’s where I come in.”
And while she devised spin all day because he paid her to, she’d spend her evenings working with JasperThePrivateDick and her CSI group to hopefully solve this case and stop these abductions. Her penance for doing business with the devil.
She had no idea who Jasper was or if that was even his name, but he seemed smart. He was definitely tenacious. Together, they might be able to blow this case wide open. Then there would be no more victims, and she’d have so much positive press to dish out for her new boss that Mr. Benedict would happily reward her. Maybe they’d even be able to find the women who had been abducted. A win all the way around.
And Jasper made her smile. After her New Year’s Eve debacle with Nash, she desperately needed a distraction, especially since she seemed to be on his radar again.
After the way he’d kissed her that night, she wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d given up. She’d have to devise creative ways to keep distance between them. Otherwise, it would be too easy to give in to her feelings. She’d tried to purge him from her heart…but she still missed him way more than was smart.
She had instigated their split for his own good. Why wouldn’t he just accept that?
Her boss’s jaw tightened. “What are your plans for these positive vibes?”
“I have a few thoughts, but I’ll need more information before I can develop a solid plan.”
“Oakfield Mall is one of my most valued—and problematic—properties. Those incidents you’re aware of? Those five missing women? There were three other thwarted attempts that never reached the press. Unfortunately, those women who got away never saw anyone or noticed anything helpful. All these incidents occurred on the mall’s premises, despite the upgraded tech and security guards I pay through the ass for. Somehow, every measure fails. The cameras blipped for twenty minutes on Christmas Eve, just as Kaylee Wright was abducted. It’s like someone knows the property’s weaknesses and can guess my every move. If I can’t stop this, it’s going to ruin me. Two of the missing girls’ families are threatening to sue.”
A chill skated down Haisley’s spine. Having such sinister crimes happening in her own backyard, to young women just starting their lives… It was terrifying and unthinkable. “I had no idea the situation was so dire. So seemingly…deliberate.”
“Neither did I—at first. Not until the latest victim. But that phone call was a gut punch. It destroyed my wife’s Christmas. I knew I had to take more drastic measures.”
Haisley risked a sidelong glance at her new boss. His expression remained impassive as he gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window. Did this incident bother him beyond the financial?
Maybe she was being too harsh. She hardly knew him, and some people didn’t wear their emotions on their faces.
“So what ‘drastic measures’ did you take?”
“Follow me.”
He led her toward the contemporary U-shaped desk he’d pointed out earlier. A laptop sat waiting as he gestured her into a black ergonomic chair. This was where she’d be spending most of her waking hours. It wasn’t fancy, but at least she was near a window.
She opened the lid on her laptop and was immediately prompted for a password.
“Before I say anything else, do you have any recommendations from a PR perspective?” he asked.
“Attacking the problem head-on. We can continue spinning your social media. You didn’t ask me, but you should consider hiring someone more competent than the local police and mall cops to solve the problem quickly and discreetly.”
“I’m a step ahead of you. I didn’t just hire ‘someone.’ I hired highly trained operatives from one of the most elite private security firms in the region, if not the country. They’ll get to the bottom of these abductions, utilizing every resource at their disposal.”
At least he was done fucking around. “Good. Once they’ve accomplished their mission, we’ll go wild with the press.”
He nodded in approval. “I’d like you to work with these security experts, provide them whatever information they need from this office, and stay apprised of what they’re doing so that if anything is press or social-media worthy, you can start getting Oakfield—and us—some wins with the public.”
Resolve buoyed Haisley. These cases dredged up the worst of today’s world, but she couldn’t deny the sense of purpose at the prospect of putting her skills to meaningful use. In order to help end this horrible string of crimes and make the world safer—even if it was just her hometown—she’d give it her all.
“You can count on me, Mr. Benedict. I’ll do whatever it takes to assist their investigation and highlight their progress through all our media and public channels.”
“Good.” He smiled faintly. “I hired you for your spirit and gumption.”
“When will I meet the operatives you hired?”
From behind, she heard heavy footfalls approach. Haisley turned as a broad-shouldered silhouette emerged, backlit by the blinding morning. The world dropped out from beneath her…