Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“On it. We’ll find her, Nash.”
They fucking had to. He didn’t know what he’d do without Haisley.
He croaked out a “yeah” and ended the call. Then he took a deep breath before connecting to Hunter Edgington, the most senior of their bosses at EM Security Management.
Stay focused. Be logical. Don’t give in to panic…
Hunter answered on the first ring. “Talk to me, Scott. What the fuck is going on?”
“Like I texted, we have a situation.” Nash tried like hell to steady his voice. “Haisley Rowe has been abducted from the hall adjacent to the food court in Oakfield Mall, just like the other victims. Dragged out the back service entrance to an idling brown conversion van. I need satellite coverage of I-49 and access to every traffic cam feed around town until we verify which direction they’re heading.”
“Haisley, George Benedict’s social media director who went with you to swipe Benedict’s phone?” Hunter’s voice held an edge sharper than a blade. “The one you didn’t clear through me first?”
“Yeah.” Nash’s chest squeezed. Every second he spent explaining was another second Haisley slipped farther away.
“The one you’re fucking?”
“The one I’m in love with,” he snarled back.
“Damn it. I didn’t know.” Hunter sighed. “That’s rough. Some asshole once tried to kill Kata and… Thank god my wife is tough. I get how you feel, but you still went behind my back.”
“And I’ll accept whatever consequences you deem appropriate later. But right now—”
“Pull over.”
“Goddamn it, no!”
“That’s an order, Scott. You’re too close. Pull over and wait for backup. I’ll send Garrison and Preston.”
“Fuck that. Fire me if you want. But I’m on the kidnapper’s tail. I’ve wired my shit tight. I’m good to go.”
“Nash—”
“Would you have stopped pursuing the captor who took Kata?” he challenged.
“You’re a hard-headed bastard. But you’re right. I wouldn’t. Before I make any calls, give me a full sitrep. What exactly did you and Trees find on that phone? And don’t leave out a single fucking detail.”
Nash accelerated through a yellow light, his jaw tight. “Six victims have disappeared from Oakfield Mall in the past year. It’s a professional operation. The women vanish completely. No bodies, no traces. Benedict’s phone seems to tie him to the operation, at least circumstantially. My brother found coded messages about ‘merchandise’ and ‘special orders.’ Financial transfers through a shell company connected to Rugs Direct—a website we discovered with veiled listings for the women they sell. The site goes dark the minute anyone investigates.”
“Jesus Christ. Why didn’t you brief me sooner?”
“Because we didn’t have much proof.” And because Edgington might have shut him down when the client became the suspect. “Benedict seemingly had a mistress. We don’t know if she’s involved. We need to question her. Last night’s sudden murder-suicide? It feels too neat. Too convenient. And that janitor at the mall… He’s neck deep in this bullshit. It’s also sus that the minute he finally agreed to let Haisley and me interview him, she’s taken.”
“Agreed. And Trees is sure of the connection between Benedict and Rugs Direct?”
“Time-stamped transfers correlate with every disappearance. Someone’s watching the mall, choosing targets, coordinating with inside help. This isn’t some amateur operation. They’ve got resources, technical expertise, and protection somewhere up the chain.”
“Benedict hired us to get to the bottom of the abductions at the mall. He might be dead now, and EM Security might lose their ass financially on this op, but I don’t think we can let this go.”
Nash breathed a sigh of relief. Hunter’s decision didn’t bring Haisley back, but it was damn good news that his bosses didn’t intend to be a roadblock. Didn’t intend to put their paycheck above lives. “Thank you.”
“It’s the right thing to do. I’ll call in every favor I’ve got, starting with the police chief.” Hunter’s voice hardened. “I’ll get eyes on traffic cams. We’ll put pressure on Benedict’s mistress. But, Scott? If you don’t catch up to that van in five minutes, pull back. You’re not going to find these bastards on the open road. They’re professionals capable of disappearing without a trace. And if you do find them, call for backup. They aren’t fucking around. They can make people disappear—or worse. And you’re no good to Haisley dead. Can you do that without losing your shit?”
Nash gritted his teeth. He hated it…but he understood Edgington’s point. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Keep me in the loop. And no more going behind my back, Scott. By the book. You got me?”
“Ten-four.”
The call ended. As a red light stopped Nash, he slammed his palm against the steering wheel with a curse. He gave himself five seconds to acknowledge his unadulterated terror for Haisley. Five seconds to acknowledge all the horrible things that could be happening to her even now. Five seconds to hate himself for not being faster, smarter, better.
Then he tamped it all down.