Masquerade (Corporate Heat Book 3)

by Desiree Holt

  “She didn’t,” Lindsey answered. “Just that she had to get away from all this mess. She’s not even answering her cell. Maybe she’s hiding from us.”

  “Or from somebody.”

  “Okay.” Noah glanced over at Blackburn and Greer. “I think you guys can head on back to Tampa, along with your teammates. Thanks for flying down here and getting this done.”

  Tim Blackburn shrugged. “There wasn’t a whole lot for us to do. Have you got equipment here, so we can give you copies of the pics and the video?”

  Noah rose. “Sure do. Come on, we’ll take care of it right now. And, Taylor? How about giving our friend Kevin Moran a call and inviting him over to see these? If he thinks we’re way off base, he’ll tell us, but I don’t think we are.”

  Taylor nodded. “Okay. John, I think you know what you need to do today. And, Lindsey? Your major role is going to be keeping everything sane here at Elite. After Charley’s men leave, you and Noah and I need to huddle on how to deal with the fallout that’s sure to happen. I want to talk to Jerry Ortiz again. I’m not sure he’s as lily-white as he’d like us to think.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Lindsey pushed back from the table. “I’m going to get some coffee. John? Refill?”

  “Please.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should just mainline it today.”

  Detective Kevin Moran arrived soon after lunchtime, apologizing for not getting there sooner. Leda ushered him into Craig’s office and let everyone know he was here. He dropped into one of the armchairs and accepted a cup of coffee with a grateful smile.

  “I would have been here sooner, but I got a call from a friend of mine on the Miami–Dade police force. The body of a young girl washed up on the beach a couple of days ago. No marks on her so he’s assuming she swam to shore from somewhere and didn’t make it alive.”

  “Damn.” Noah shook his head.

  “No kidding. Anyway, he found her in the National Missing Persons Database, called the cop in New York who had taken the report and the two of them began discussing some other cases. Marco Dania, the Miami–Dade cop, and I have worked a number of cases together before, so he called me and asked, out of curiosity, if we had anything to add. Sadly, I did. I won’t take up your time with the details, but there seems to be a significant number of girls around the age of twenty of a certain type who go missing after being offered a modeling gig.”

  “We had a feeling.” Taylor looked at everyone who nodded. “It came up when I had our forensic accountant over there, John Martino, going through all Craig’s financials plus his accounts. Lindsey, you want to take it from here?

  “We focused on a spa, Masquerade, one of Craig’s clients.” She went on to tell him what she and John surmised and her impression on her one visit.

  “You’ll find this interesting,” Noah told him. “I had a couple of private investigators watching the place since last night. Mostly because it is a client and if there’s any stuff it reflects on us. Let me get you the pictures and video they took.”

  Moran looked at them, the muscles in his face tightening when he saw the shots of the girls.

  “Like I said, it seems we’re all dealing with the same problem. We seem to have a sudden abundance of young girls, around twenty, being offered hot modeling jobs. Supposedly the jobs are in the Caribbean, on some private island, and they never come back. My boss has contacted the FBI offices in Miami. This is a real hot button for them. In fact, they’ve got a message on their home page with a number to contact at once with information on human trafficking. They’ll probably want to talk to all of you, too.”

  Lindsey caught her breath, knowing everyone else was thinking the same thing she was. Does this have anything to do with the photo shoots in the Caribbean on Parrot Cay?

  “Any idea on who is contacting them?” Noah asked. “Is it an individual or an agency?”

  “Don’t know yet. It’s not on the reports, but the three of us are going to start checking with whoever filed reports and see if they know. You know, this has to be some sophisticated operation, because they just used to scoop them off the streets, invite them to parties and ship them off.”

  “We all said the same thing,” Lindsey told him.

  “So.” He looked at each of them. “When you called, you said you had information for me. One of you? All of you?”

  “Actually, all of us,” Noah answered, “in pieces, and some of it is supposition, but I’ll be the spokesman for the group.”

  He ran through it all with him. The feeling there had to be more to Craig’s death than just the wrong pills. The question of how he got them. John Martino’s scouring of the financial accounts. The secret cell phone. The introduction of Ruben Madea and Alex Enescu. Then the revelation and assumptions about Masquerade.

  When Noah finished, Moran just sat for a minute, a stunned look on his face. Then he swallowed the last of his coffee and held out the cup.

  “Could I beg a refill?”

  Lindsey smiled. “Sure thing. I’ll get it.”

  “I think I need it to absorb all of this.” Again he studied each of them. “Do you people always do this when there’s a change in top personnel?”

  Taylor laughed. “When you’re responsible for an organization the size of Arroyo, you’re always suspicious of everything. It’s how you stay in business.”

  “I guess you’re right.” He pulled a little notebook and a pen from his jacket pocket. “Okay, let’s go through this again, if you don’t mind.”

  This time he asked questions, taking them over some things two or three times, until he had what he wanted. Finally, he sat back in his chair.

  “Well. It seems I have a lot of work to do. If you don’t mind, Mrs. Cantrell—”

  “Taylor, please.”

  He dipped his head. “Taylor. I’m going to ask the district attorney to get a court order for the financial accounts Mr. Martino here has been working on, and ask him to explain his findings to my lieutenant and the district attorney.”

  John looked over at Taylor. “It’s really up to you. I’m game for anything that will trap these bastards.”

  “Do it,” she told him. “I feel the same way.”

  “Another thing.” Moran looked at his notes again. “If we can dig up information on this so-called modeling agency, can we run it past you to see if you know anything about them?”

  “Detective,” Taylor said, “we want to do anything we can to find answers here and hopefully find these girls. So yes. Any time.”

  “One more thing.” Moran pulled out his cell. “Can I have the cell phone number of one of you, and do you mind if I share it with the other two detectives I’m working with?”

  Noah rattled off his. “Any calls should come to me.”

  “Okay, then. I guess that’s it for the moment, but I’ll be back later.”

  When he stood, everyone else did as well.

  “You’ve given me some pretty significant information for which we’ll all be grateful. I’ll call and let you know when I’m on my way back.”

  “You didn’t say anything about your research on Enescu and Madea,” Taylor pointed out to her husband.

  “I don’t have anything concrete yet. Let’s wait while Charley Graham digs around a little more. He’s got connections out there he can utilize.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I notice you didn’t mention anything about Jerry Ortiz, either,” Lindsey commented.

  “I want you and I to talk to him first, so I know what we might be getting into.”

  “Good idea,” she agreed. “Listen, I know it’s the middle of a workday, but I sure could use a glass of wine.”

  “I vote for that. Let’s go across the street for linguine and wine. It’ll help us get through the day.”

  And a long day it was. After lunch, somewhat fortified by the wine, Lindsey spent significant time going over the details and status of all of Craig’s clients. She was also looking for anything that could be the least bit squirrely, so
mething that she might have missed the first time around. She also made personal calls to those she still hadn’t connected with. She and Taylor wanted a meeting with Jerry Ortiz, but he seemed to have disappeared, and no one knew where he was. Kevin Moran showed up late in the afternoon to get copies of the financial information.

  By the time the day was over, they were all battling exhaustion. Everyone else had already left by the time Lindsey, John and the Cantrells shut the office down for the day.

  “I think I’m too tired even to eat,” Lindsey said as they walked out to the parking area. “And I’m burned out on takeout.”

  “We’ll worry about it when we get home.” He slid his hand beneath the fall of her hair to rub her neck. “I’m thinking a hot shower and something to relax us.”

  “Mmmm. Sounds good.”

  “Why don’t you just crawl into the passenger seat and I’ll drive?”

  “Another good suggestion.” She turned, stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss over his mouth. She had to keep reminding herself this was just temporary. She was going to be very careful about putting herself out there again with this man, although she had a feeling it might already be too late. Fine. She’d enjoy the hell out of it while it lasted, send him back to Atlanta and nurse her bruised heart when she walked away from him before he could do it to her again.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Go take off your clothes.”

  Those were the first words John said when they walked into the house.

  “What?” Lindsey stopped at the entrance to the living room and stared at him. “What did you say?”

  “I said take off your clothes.” He took her messenger bag and purse from her and set them on a small table. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Go on. You are tired and worn out and so tense your muscles are tighter than a virgin’s. I happen to be an expert in fixing that. Go on. Strip and lie down on your bed.”

  She hated following orders, but the thought of those big, strong, warm hands on her, soothing her body, sent waves of longing through her.

  “Okay. I should tell you it’s not necessary, but I’d be lying. Go on. Clothes off. I’ll be right behind you.”

  She put her heels in the closet, her clothes in the laundry hamper and pulled back the covers on the bed. Then she stretched out on the silky sheets, resting her head on firm but fluffy pillows, and waited. In seconds the mattress dipped as John climbed up behind her. Was he naked? Had he taken off his clothes?

  When he bracketed her with his legs, she had her answer in the bare warmth of his skin.

  “Close your eyes,” he told her. “Just close your eyes and feel.”

  He tugged her arms so they were stretched out by her head, then trailed a line of kisses down her spine. Just the touch of his lips set the walls of her sex quivering so hard she had to squeeze her thighs together. He spent a lot of time tracing her spine with his lips, licking the skin and taking little bites of her shoulder before trailing down the length of her torso again.

  Warmth washed through her, making her nipples ache and her sex thrum with need. His touch was magic as he kneaded the muscles in her arms and shoulders, kissing her shoulders and taking a tiny bite of flesh at the nape of her neck. Never would she have thought such a thing would be so erotic it made every part of her body scream, for his mouth, his tongue, his hands. When he placed tiny kisses the length of her spine then traced the line with the tip of his tongue, every nerve in her pussy sparked and heated.

  “Relax.” He pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck. “Don’t tense up.”

  “Don’t tense up?” She gave a hysterical little laugh. “When you’re doing those things to me?”

  There was that low, rough laugh again. “It’s supposed to relax you. Just close your eyes and go with it.”

  “Okay.” She drew in a deep breath, held it, then let it out and fell into his touch.

  “Think of soft clouds,” he murmured. “So soft you hardly feel them. Your bones are liquid. You couldn’t move if you tried. That’s it. Just like that.”

  She was surprised, as she listened to his voice and felt his warm hands on her, that she was able to relax, and her bones became almost liquid. He worked on her back and her arms for a long time until her muscles felt limp and molten. She was floating, with no desire to move, until he slipped his hands down to her butt and squeezed the round cheeks. That would have been okay except, as he squeezed, he slid both thumbs into the warm crevice there and pressed against the hot, tight opening there.

  “Remember when I fucked you there, darlin’? When I slid my cock into that very sexy, dark place? Remember how good it felt? You screamed the house down, so loud I was afraid we might wake up your neighbors.” There was that low laugh again.

  God, she remembered that night. Their last night together, when he’d coaxed her into trying things beyond her boundaries. That had been one of them, and the orgasm that resulted had shaken every bone in her body. She’d dreamed about it for way too many nights afterwards. Nights when she’d wanted him beyond belief and tried to push him out of her mind.

  “Uh-oh. You tensed up. I know you liked it, so you must be thinking of afterwards. Get that out of your mind. I’m not leaving, Lindsey. This is just the beginning for us. Believe it.”

  Oh, if only she could. With an effort she forced herself to relax, back into the state she’d been floating in before. He massaged the cheeks of her butt, giving them a gentle squeeze, massaging then stroking them, before sliding his thumbs back in between them again and rubbing in a gentle motion on that tight opening. Now the walls of her sex began to pulse, a slow but steady thrumming that reverberated throughout her body.

  It went on for such a long time she could do nothing but close her eyes and fall into a conflicting pool of relaxation and need. She could almost fall asleep, if it were not for the intense need gripping her, the hunger for him, the desire that grew and grew with each stroke and caress.

  She hung there, on the edge of reverie, when without warning he shifted his body, sliding backwards and urging her up to her knees.

  “What—” She blinked. “Why? What’s—”

  “Just go with it,” he repeated the mantra. “I promise this will cure whatever ails you.”

  She let herself go limp again as he pulled her to her knees and arranged her so her head rested on her forearms crossed in front of her. She felt his legs between hers and his knees pressing as he separated her legs even more. He pressed a kiss to the base of her spine even as he slid two fingers into her greedy, waiting sex and returned his thumb to that aching rear entrance.

  Put it in, she wanted to shout.

  Instead he continued tormenting her, fucking her wet sex with two fingers while his thumbs teased her rear again and again, until her entire body was shaking. And still he kept it up, pushing her to a place she’d never been before, where need and desire and pleasure and relaxation all bubbled together in an erotic cocktail. His body was hard against hers as he leaned forward more and placed another trail of kisses on her spine.

  Please. Please. Please.

  She thought she’d only said it in her mind until John chuckled.

  “Please what? Please do more? Please stop? Please fuck you?”

  “Yes!” She nearly screamed the word. “Please fuck me. Now!”

  “But this is supposed to relax you,” he teased.

  “I’m relaxed, damn it. I’m relaxed.”

  He pressed his lips to her ear. “Okay. Then let’s get you really relaxed.”

  She heard the rip of foil and the light snap of latex as he rolled on a condom. Then his fingers spreading the lips of her sex and at last, at last! The pressure of his thick cock as he eased it inside her.

  Oh, god!

  He filled every inch of her, his thighs pressing against hers, his hands gripping her hips to steady her. Then it began. In and out. Back and forth. Thrust and retreat. Again and again and again, but his movements so slow he drove her out of h
er mind.

  Pleasepleasepleaseplease.

  She didn’t know if she was screaming in her head or out loud. The heed to come was so strong she was sure if she didn’t she’d lose her mind.

  Then, at last. At last! He increased the pace, his thick cock dragging against the walls of her sex, again and again and again and…

  Yes!

  She exploded, her inner walls squeezing him so hard she could feel every throb as he pumped into the condom. It went on and on and on, until she had no strength and no breath left and John had emptied himself. He collapsed and rolled to the side, still inside her, taking her with him, spooning around her.

  “Feel how connected we are?” he breathed into her ear. “That’s the way we’ll always be, Lindsey. Just like this.”

  Oh, god. If only she could believe it.

  But one thing she did know. She was one hundred percent relaxed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mia huddled in the shrubbery, hugging herself and rubbing her arms in an attempt to get rid of the goosebumps. She was shivering and shaking, and her feet were killing her from running barefoot over gravel and whatever else was on the ground. The brick wall that fronted the estate had only extended a short way on either side of the property. The rest of it had been enclosed with chain link fencing disguised with shrubbery. She’d cut her feet climbing over it and she had another big cut on one thigh, but desperation overrode pain. And she was out of there. That was the most important thing.

  They had to be combing the property for her, right? She huddled against the shrub-covered fence, hoping the greenery would conceal her. Had they discovered her missing yet? Probably the wardrobe woman had sounded the alarm when she couldn’t find Mia. In the next second, she heard voices that confirmed it.

  “Where the fuck did she disappear to?” Dax’s voice, harsh with irritation and anger.

  “You’re asking me?” An unfamiliar voice. Maybe one of the other men who was watching the shoot? Who are they, anyway?

  “Yes, damn it. I’m asking you. You and Doug were supposed to be watching her like hawks.”