Masquerade (Corporate Heat Book 3)

by Desiree Holt

  Ohmigod!

  That was all she could think of. Lucky for her, both of her parents were planning to be out at an event that night. Dax had said he would send a car for her, but she didn’t want it to come to the consulate. She was afraid if they knew who her family was, they’d kill the deal, not wanting to get involved in a possible political situation.

  Instead, she called Sassy, the only one of her friends she’d told about this, and asked if he would mind getting her at Sassy’s house. And Sassy, being a good friend, had picked her up and brought her to her home where a big black sedan arrived at three o’clock. She was glad to see it was Dax Fornell. At least she was with someone she knew. He drove her first to a spa called Masquerade, where he told her all the girls were getting full beauty treatments before the photo shoot.

  Full was right. She was waxed, plucked, creamed, showered, had her hair styled and was given thong panties and a minidress to put on.

  “Just until you get to the house,” the woman in charge told her. “You can take your own clothes with you for later. But the wardrobe mistress will have outfits for you for the shoot.”

  Then cars returned to pick up all the girls and transport them. Again Dax was her driver, but this time another girl, Asia, just as excited and nervous as she was, rode with her. They squeezed each other’s hands in excitement and anticipation.

  The house Dax brought her to was enormous, a sprawling mansion bigger than her father’s, on a large landscaped plot. It was situated right on the waterfront, with a lawn sloping down to the water and a dock with a slip that anchored a very large cabin cruiser. Lights around the pool sparkled in the fading dusk.

  Mia was awestruck. Her parents’ mansion was nothing to be sneezed at, and she’d been around money all her life, but this was the top of the ladder. A little shiver of excitement raced over her skin and deep inside her a pulse began to thrum with a slow, steady beat.

  This is it! This is really going to happen!

  She’d just have to figure out how to break the news to her parents, but she’d do it. It was a given.

  “Miss Silva?”

  She looked up at the man who had stepped out onto the patio and was holding a tall frosted glass out to her.

  “Club soda.” The man grinned. “Bella Donna does not like its models to drink with clients. It might give the wrong impression.”

  Wow! Okay, so nothing to worry about on that score.

  “Okay.” She reached for the glass. “Thank you.”

  “If you’d come inside now, the photographer is setting up around the pool. He may want to do some nighttime shots around the pool, too. Does that work for you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. If you’ll come with me, the wardrobe mistress is ready to help you.”

  Wardrobe mistress! A thread of excitement wiggled through her.

  And it had indeed been exciting, changing into the glamorous outfits and posing for the photographer. She’d been a little uncertain about the very teeny-weeny bikinis, but the wardrobe mistress had assured her bathing suit layouts were the most popular. Bella Donna had specified they wanted pool shots tonight, and Dax reminded her of the popular sports magazine that did them every year.

  They’d taken what she thought was a gazillion pictures before the wardrobe mistress came to help her change into a cute shorts and top set. But then the woman couldn’t find the right outfit and disappeared from the room. Mia needed to use the rest room and she figured it wouldn’t hurt to just slip out for a minute. But there were so many corridors in the house it was easy to get lost, plus she had no idea where any of the bathrooms were.

  The other girls who had been at the pool with her had been taken off for makeup or whatever, and she hadn’t seen them since. Was something wrong? Was it her? Was she being cut from this? How would she get home? Her stomach was jumping with nerves and her mouth was dry as she tried to decipher the situation. She passed a door that was open a crack and she paused when she heard men’s voices. Maybe they were talking about her, so she stopped to listen.

  And almost fainted from shock.

  “…the best one yet, Dax,” someone was saying. “She’ll be number one in the order of selection.”

  Order of selection? For what?

  And Dax, the man who had smooth-talked her and given her his card, who had brought her here tonight—what was up with him? Was this whole thing a scam? For what?

  Oh, god, how did I get myself into this?

  “You know Enescu decreed an auction tonight rather than delivery as a group. He has individuals with millions waiting to buy these girls. Good work, Dax. This is the best crop you’ve brought us, and this one will bring the biggest price yet.”

  Biggest price? Buy these girls?

  Mia’s stomach cramped and chills of fear raced over her skin. What was going on here?

  “There can be no trace of any of this,” a woman said. “I can’t afford it. This was a stupid thing for you to do and I am tempted just to get rid of her and avoid all problems.”

  Mia strained to hear, because the woman sounded so familiar.

  “Calm down.”

  This was a deep male voice, belonging to the man who owned the house and who had welcomed her so properly. Frank. Big, with an air of power and far from friendly. Even when he smiled, he frightened her. He had scared Mia enough that she’d thought about asking Dax to just take her home. But then everything else had moved along and she hadn’t had a chance

  “We’ve made millions with this,” another voice broke in. “Perhaps it’s time to take a break. Craig’s death has put us all under a spotlight. That was a foolish move to make.”

  “It was necessary.” The woman spoke, and this time Mia was sure who it was. She nearly fainted with shock and fear. A very important woman in the whole Miami–Fort Lauderdale area. Uber wealthy, and some said from South American aristocracy. How was this possible? Was she maybe just hearing things? This woman would never be involved in something like this. Would she?

  “Not for us.” That was Dax. “We have a smooth operation going, and none of the missing girls have come back to haunt us. There’s too much money to quit. You were the only one who had a problem, and I’m sure there were other ways to solve it.”

  Missing girls? Oh, oh, oh.

  Mia stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from screaming.

  “It’s done and I expect everyone to deal with it,” the woman snapped. “You’ve never had a problem with anyone else we had to get rid of.”

  “No one else has had the same visibility, nor did they bring the wrath of the Arroyo Corporation down on us.” Dax’s voice was getting angrier and louder. “Jesus, Nat, these people have international clout. They can kill this whole thing worldwide and we could end up in prison.”

  “Enough.” That was Frank.

  “Yes, enough,” the woman echoed.

  “I’m talking about you, too,” Frank said. “We worked for years to build this setup. Found the perfect vehicle to find the girls who would bring the best prices. Set up a process for selling, and with one stupid move you may have jeopardized us all.”

  “He wanted us to get out,” she protested. “He wanted to destroy everything because he said he was sick of thinking about what happened to the girls.”

  “He didn’t mind it when the money was rolling in. And when he had his pick of the girls to use first.”

  “Listen, Dax,” the first man was saying, “are you sure we aren’t going to get our dicks in a wringer because of her? That one’s parents have money and clout. They can make a big stink.”

  “Once she’s gone, she’s gone. No trace. What can they do? Buy her back?”

  The men laughed.

  “But,” the other man continued, “her friend knows about this.”

  “We’ll take care of her friend if we have to. Meanwhile, calm down. It will all work out. Let’s relax and enjoy another successful event. The buyers are all set. We just sent off the pictures for a preview,
so calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” the familiar female voice said. “This is your mess, not mine. I had to clean up my own already. I’m not taking care of anyone else’s.”

  “It will be fine.” A different voice.

  Who’s this? Oh, yes. The man Dax had introduced her to as a silent partner in Bella Donna. The money man, he’d told her. What was his name? She wanted to remember it in case she managed to get out of here alive.

  “Then let’s do this. We’re not taking them out to Alex’s boat until tomorrow night. Lock—”

  “Tomorrow night?” Nat interrupted. “Why was it changed? We need to move them tonight.”

  “You want to tell that to Alex Enescu,” Frank sneered, “be my guest. He says change of plans, I say fine. Me, I’m locking them up and waiting for tomorrow.”

  Mia had to squeeze her hands together, twisting her fingers, to stop shaking. She wanted to throw up, but she knew she couldn’t allow herself that luxury. Instead, she had to find a way out of here.

  I am such a freaking fool. If I can just get out of this, I’ll never leave the house again. I don’t care if I’m almost twenty-one, I have a lot to learn before I try this again. And please, god, I promise to learn if you’ll just help me get away from here.

  Which of course she had no idea how to do. They’d had to drive through an electronic gate to get into the grounds of the house and she had no idea if there was any other way out.

  “I’ll give you thirty minutes to get her and the others out of here and on your boat. Then I’m taking care of it.”

  “Really? Look what happened when you tried to clean up the last mess. We have a bigger one to deal with.”

  “Not my fault,” she snapped.

  “Children, children,” an unfamiliar voice broke in. “There’s plenty of time to squabble later. Right now, we’d better take care of our immediate problem. Is that facility shut down nice and tight?”

  “Yes,” the woman answered. “And we transferred the merchandise still remaining. I still think that’s a mistake. It will be a signal to them.”

  “They were already asking questions,” the money man said. “And when news comes out about the disappearance of our latest little bargain here, they’ll get the police to take that place apart with a fine-toothed comb. I’ve always said it was a mistake to handle it the way he did, but Craig refused to listen to me.”

  “Good thing he’s not around to object.” Dax’s voice was edged with irritation.

  “Fortunate, you mean,” the woman snapped. “I would have had it handled. This just was not the right time to do this. Remember when it comes back to haunt us that I said not to do it. We could have weathered anything they asked. Right now, get the girl,” the woman snapped. “Let’s go from there.”

  “One thing,” Frank told her. “We’ll have to use a different place for processing the girls. Masquerade’s under a spotlight now, ever since that woman Arroyo insisted on bringing into Elite stuck her nose into it.”

  “Which never would have happened without Craig’s unusual death. Jesus, Nat, couldn’t you at least have figured out a way to off him that didn’t put us out there where people could ask questions? Those pills were a fucking stupid idea.”

  “If it was your neck on the line,” she retorted, “you’d be singing a different song.”

  Mia took a deep breath and pulled herself together. She wouldn’t get anywhere standing here frightened and shaking. She was still dressed in the stupid bikini, and she had no shoes on. But wandering through the McMansion just now, she’d discovered the kitchen had a back door. If she could slip out before anyone found out and set the extra alarms, maybe she could find a way off this property. She had to try. Otherwise she was dead.

  Move. Now.

  She tiptoed on bare feet down the hallway toward the kitchen, concealing herself around the corner until she was sure the room was empty. Good! The kitchen staff who’d served drinks and hors d’oeuvres were probably out by the pool. Mia had heard The Man say they’d be having dinner out there when the shoot was finished. She scooted into the room and over to the door that she’d discovered led to a back porch and the rear lawn. She eased the door open, letting out her breath when no alarms or bells sounded.

  Then she was running as fast as she could to the rear of the lawn, to the trees bordering it, hoping there was some kind of road beyond them. She’d climb a wall if she had to, even in her bare feet. Anything was better than what these people had in store for her. She prayed as she put more distance between herself and the house, running faster than she ever had. Ignoring her bare feet.

  Please let me get away from here. Please.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lindsey had Elite business to attend to in the morning, and John was anxious to dig deeper into everyone’s financial setup, so they were at the office early. Taylor was there working on Arroyo business, and Noah had gone off to meet with the two agents sitting on Masquerade. He’d received a call from them about nine-thirty and hustled off to join them.

  They were all absorbed in their individual tasks when he returned and pulled everyone into Craig’s office, where John was working, and closed the door.

  “Here’s a shocker,” he told them. “Masquerade is shut down.”

  “Closed?” Lindsey repeated the word. “Just like that?”

  “Apparently so. The agents sitting on it will be here shortly and I’d rather you get all the details directly from them, but—” He was interrupted by a knock on the door. He opened it to find Sarah standing there.

  “The two gentlemen you were expecting are here.”

  “Good. Thanks. I’ll come get them.”

  When he returned, two men were with him, dressed in jeans and dark polo shirts.

  “We’ve got pictures,” one of them said.

  “Good. Everyone, meet Tim Blackburn and Harley Greer. Gentlemen, have a seat. How about some coffee?”

  Tim shook his head. “We’re carrying a night’s worth of coffee,” he joked. “But it was worth the caffeine to get this.”

  “Fine. Then let’s get to it.”

  “We got there about six last night,” Harley told them, “in time to relieve the team before us. According to them, all the other customers had left by then. There were only a couple of cars in the lot, but the previous team said a whole group of young girls were delivered there about three this afternoon. Then the cars left.”

  “They got pictures.” Harley lifted the camera. “And video. Then, about an hour after we got there, a bunch of black cars rolled up again in the back. The rear door opened and seven girls in skimpy clothes were ushered out by four women and delivered into the cars, which then took off.”

  “We got pictures of that, too,” Tim assured them. “You said the place opens at nine in the morning, but the staff usually get there about an hour before. We were curious, so, even though our replacements showed up, we hung out for a while.”

  “We were damn curious,” Harley added. “So we stayed until we called you, about thirty minutes ago. No one ever showed up and the place is closed tighter than a drum. And get this. We called the number and there’s a recording that says it’s closed until further notice.”

  “Shocker,” Taylor said.

  “Okay.” Noah sat back in his chair. “Here’s the way I see it. Everything was going along smoothly for whoever is running this delightful enterprise. Then Craig somehow gummed up the works and the decision was made to get rid of him.”

  “But by who?” John prodded.

  “Good question. We’ll come back to that. So someone gets some contraband hard-on pills and switches them with Craig’s regular meds. It screws him up enough that he crashes his car and kills himself. We on this so far?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “John, you’ve put together quite a trail from clients, real or otherwise, to Litton to numbered accounts back to another shell corporation then moved so many times you need a permanent road map. So now we have
a possible money trail for illegal trade in drugs, guns and women.”

  “Girls,” Taylor interjected. “The ones men like them are after are little more than girls.”

  “True,” Noah agreed, and the others nodded. “And if Enescu and Madea are involved, you can bet it’s big, widespread. I don’t know how Craig got involved in this to begin with, but I have a feeling he wanted out and that’s what triggered his death.”

  “This isn’t the kind of death these guys are usually involved in,” Tim Blackburn said. “Their favorite is an attack by ‘person or persons unknown’ who beat the mark to death.”

  “Then maybe this is someone outside their inner circle,” John suggested. “I’ll have all of that ready today, at least in basic form. If the cops want more, I’m happy to refine it.”

  Taylor rubbed her forehead. “Where do Podesta and Merriam fit in? Podesta I get, because they can ship the girls anywhere in the world his freight vessels travel. But Merriam?”

  “He could be cleaning the money through his hedge fund operation?” John suggested. “Those could be some of the accounts I’m finding. All I have to do is dig a little deeper to be sure.”

  “God.” Taylor rubbed her temples. “I’m sorry I ever thought bringing Elite into Arroyo was a good idea. I must have had blinders on. And you can be damn sure the person on my staff who brought them to me is not going to be pleased at all.”

  “Take it easy.” Noah rubbed her shoulder. “They worked very hard to create a respectable image for the company and make it appealing so they had a cover for what they were doing.”

  “Well, I suggest we all be careful,” John told them. “We’ve put a kink in their operation and they won’t take too kindly to that.”

  Lindsey stared at him, wide-eyed. “You don’t think they’ll come after any of us, do you?”

  “Too high profile, but you never know what desperate or angry people will do.”

  “I’d give anything to know where Natalia fits into all this.” Taylor leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Surely she had to have some knowledge.”

  John nodded. “And that’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. She sure ran off in a hurry. Where did she say she was going?”