Blood & Lace

by Trinity Scott

  “When I got back to the base, he took me aside and told me I was a dumb son of a bitch who shouldn’t even be alive after a stupid stunt like that.” He shook his head. “He was right. I was a punk-ass kid who thought I was invincible. But then he had tears in his eyes and he hugged the shit out of me and told me I was his brother now, too.”

  The emotion radiating from him tugged at Chloe’s heartstrings.

  “Sounds like a good guy.”

  Gage raised his hand to wave to another camera on the porch. “He is. He’s the best damn tracker I know. If it’s missing, Holt can find it.”

  “So why is he retired?”

  Gage pulled a disgusted face. “Because the bad intel he received that led him to give the order to send us in got him early retirement. He’s still working to find out who burned him. Because someone most definitely did.”

  “You’re not going to knock or ring the doorbell?” Chloe felt strange just standing on a random stranger’s porch.

  Gage smirked. “Don’t need to.”

  Just as he answered her, the door opened and John Cena stood there grinning.

  Well, not the actual John Cena, but Chloe bet the man could easily play his stunt double. Hell, for all she knew he probably did. Already Holt McCain seemed like an interesting character she wanted to know more about. It was an occupational hazard of being a writer.

  “Come on in,” Holt greeted them, opening the door wide enough for them to pass.

  Chloe gave him a smile as she passed by the wall of hard muscle, noticing he had just a little gray around his temples, but somehow that only made him more appealing.

  Once they were inside, Gage introduced them.

  “Chloe, this is SEAL sergeant Holt McCain.” He paused while the man gave Chloe the firmest handshake she’d ever received. His hand was warm, calloused. Strong. He had the kind of presence she’d always wished her dad had. She felt safer already just being near him. “Holt, this is Chloe Sterling.”

  Holt McCain’s eyes widened. “Well, darlin’, you’re definitely the prettiest thing to ever walk onto this property. Nice to meet you.”

  Gage shot Holt a warning glance that Chloe didn’t miss. She appreciated his protectiveness, but she appreciated the compliment also.

  She smiled. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  “Won’t be able to anymore.” Holt winked at her.

  Gage’s face scrunched in annoyance. “Well, as fun as this is, let’s get down to business, shall we?”

  Holt let out an amused grunt and led them through what turned out to be a beautiful—albeit very masculine—home to a back office. Rich oak and mahogany from floor to ceiling surrounded them as Holt took the seat behind a grand desk. Gage held out a striped champagne-colored chair for her and it was surprisingly plush and much more comfortable than it appeared. He sat in the one beside her.

  “Linda will bring us some coffee in a few minutes. I told her to let us get settled first.” He turned to Chloe. “Unless you prefer something else? Tea?”

  “Coffee is fine. I could use the caffeine after the drive.”

  Holt smiled. “Good woman.”

  Gage’s brows rose. “Linda?”

  “Don’t get too excited, Pierce. I’m still a bachelor. I just finally hired a housekeeper.”

  Holt powered up a silver utilitarian-looking laptop on his desk.

  “So I looked into the things we discussed,” he said, mostly to Gage. Chloe frowned. She already felt left out of the loop.

  Gage seemed to sense this and turned to her. “I told Holt about Red Light and Eden’s involvement with them.”

  “I have a few ideas,” Holt told them. “But I’m getting ahead of myself.” He folded his hands on the desk. “I want to lay out all the facts and make sure I’ve got them straight before we proceed.”

  Chloe waited as patiently as she could for him and Gage to hash out what they already knew. She could tell that Holt McCain was levelheaded, careful, and thorough. But she was ready for the part where he explained how he was going to help.

  She knew Gage trusted him, and she liked him enough, but she didn’t have a clue what a retired Navy SEAL was going to do to help find Eden. When she’d asked Gage in the car, all he had said was, “Whatever we need him to.”

  “I’ve compiled a list of people of interest.”

  Holt turned the computer to face them.

  The first picture was of a man who had black hair down to his shoulders. He was handsome in the same off-putting, smarmy sort of way Paulo Sebastian was, but more sinister in appearance. His hair was thinner and unwashed. He wasn’t as well-groomed, and his front teeth were slightly crooked.

  “This is your owner and head producer at Red Light,” Holt informed them. “His name is Alexander Ulrich. He’s Russian. Has a nephew who works with him. Erik. He’s gotten into some trouble for fraud, but his lawyers somehow always manage to get him off.”

  The next picture was of Paulo Sebastian. Then there was Elliot Epstein, with two attractive women who resembled Eden next to him.

  “We talked to Paulo, but I thought Epstein was in the hospital.” Chloe frowned. “Who are the women?”

  “I called the hospital. Inquired about security for my mentally ill ‘mother’ who might be a potential patient. Turns out, self-admitted patients are pretty much free to come and go as they please. They sign in and out at the front desk, but if their time isn’t court-ordered, no one tracks them too closely. Since Eden never pressed charges or filed a restraining order, good ol’ Elliot here was a voluntary patient.”

  “I checked the sign-out log online,” Gage informed them. “He hasn’t left in two weeks. He doesn’t drive. He has a private nurse his family hired, and she said he barely leaves his room, much less the facility.”

  “Epstein’s family has money. Money he has access to in his own account,” Holt argued. “How much do you think it would cost to pay a private nurse to lie and a front desk orderly to look the other way?”

  Gage’s forehead creased, but he didn’t argue. “You thinking he’s capable?”

  Holt shrugged. “Don’t know. But I know based on the info we do have, I’m not ready to rule him out completely.”

  Gage nodded. “And the women?”

  Before they got an answer, Linda, an attractive Hispanic woman who looked to be in her midforties with a gorgeous wide smile, brought in three cups of coffee. Chloe added cream and sugar to hers and noticed that both men drank theirs black. She wondered if it was a SEAL thing, or just a general tough-guy thing.

  She also wondered if Holt and Linda were a thing. She could definitely sense some sort of tension there.

  “Adrianna Dunn and Caroline Isla,” Holt said, naming the women once Linda was gone. He clicked twice, and a new screen with a bulleted list of facts appeared.

  Gage leaned forward and read over it. “Caroline worked for Provocative and Red Light too? The head of Provocative mentioned that she was also missing. But we didn’t know that she was connected to Red Light.”

  Holt nodded. “Caroline’s worth looking into, in my opinion. I haven’t been able to find any other links between Adrianna and Eden though. Just Provocative Inc., and they both stopped showing up for work around the same time. But this one”—he paused to point to Caroline’s photo—“she worked for both and was reported missing the exact same week Eden started working for Ulrich.”

  “Caroline,” Chloe said, examining the screen. “When Karen Kingston mentioned her it rang a bell. I never met her, but Eden spoke fondly of her. They were friends. Probably the only genuine friend Eden had out here. Modeling is a competitive business, but she and Caroline bonded this past year. Kingston confirmed that.”

  Holt listened intently before speaking. “Caroline had some unsavory connections stemming from a past relationship with a punk named Joey Lester. Technically they were married. They ran off when they were nineteen, and then spent two years living apart before reconciling. My guess is Joey came back when she
got the modeling gig. She and Joey owed money to the kind of people you don’t want to owe money to. Joey got locked up for grand theft auto last year. The people he owed probably came to her looking to settle up once he was out of commission. I’m betting that’s why she took the work with Red Light.”

  He clicked a button, and mug shots of two men filled the screen. He pointed to the bald one with a black goatee and a script tattoo on the side of his neck. “Jacob Jefferies. Also know as JJ the Jet Plane—because he’ll get you high. He’s a dealer that Joey distributed for.” He clicked the other picture of an Italian-looking, much cleaner-cut man in a suit. This is Antonio Cavallari. JJ’s boss. He calls the shots when it comes to collecting debts. His henchmen paid several visits to Caroline at both of her jobs on multiple occasions.”

  Chloe wanted to hug the man. At least this was progress. New information, something. Instead of the constant spinning-their-wheels that she felt like they’d been doing.

  “You think maybe they have Caroline and Eden?”

  Holt frowned. “Kidnapping isn’t their style. They’re more the ‘burn your house to the ground then shake you down for the insurance money’ type.” He closed the computer. “But it’s suspect that they had been after Caroline, she goes missing, and then your sister starts working with Red Light, and then she goes missing. The obvious connection here is Red Light, but Lester, JJ, and Antonio are worth talking to. Antonio will be harder to track down, but I’m not worried.”

  “I’ll have them brought in as soon as we get back into town.” Gage watched Chloe, waiting for a reaction. “You won’t be attending these inquisitions. I don’t want these guys to see your face and get spooked in case they are involved with Eden’s disappearance.” He held her gaze to make sure they were clear. “I will keep you updated though. I promise.”

  Chloe didn’t like it, but she understood. And she believed him. So far Gage hadn’t made a promise that he hadn’t kept. That was something.

  When they left Holt’s, she knew a half-dozen new doors had just been opened. New paths forming and twisting in an already-tangled web of unanswered questions. But finding out where they led would hopefully lead to finding Eden.

  For the first time since she’d arrived in LA and discovered her sister was missing she felt . . . hopeful.

  Emily Dickinson once said hope was the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

  Emily was wrong.

  Hope was a cruel, taunting trick your mind played on you, one that lifted you to the highest possible height before reality slammed you back to earth.

  Halfway back to Los Angeles, Gage’s phone rang. Chloe couldn’t explain it, but even the ringtone sounded ominous. She could feel that it was bad news even before Gage answered with “Pierce.”

  He was silent for several long moments. Then his eyes closed briefly and the muscle in his jaw ticked.

  “Okay. I’m coming in. Thank you for letting me know.”

  He disconnected the call and placed his phone in the center console. All without looking at her.

  It was nearly midnight. But he was going into the office.

  Chloe’s stomach worked itself into a tight, painful knot that sat like a boulder in the middle of her body. “Just tell me.”

  Gage pulled off into the emergency lane on the side of the highway and put the truck in park.

  “They ID’d the body,” he began, carefully measuring each word while maintaining eye contact with her.

  Chloe inhaled sharply. “And?”

  She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “It’s Caroline. Caroline Isla.”

  The noise that escaped Chloe’s chest sounded like a cry an animal might make while being attacked. A death cry.

  Some part of her, some tiny part, had held on to hope that the woman in the morgue wasn’t connected to Eden in any way.

  But she was. She was a friend. A close friend.

  Chloe wished she had listened closer when Eden was talking about Caroline. But there was always something else pulling at her attention. Work emails, texts, leads to follow up on, articles to turn in, deadlines to meet.

  “Hey.” Gage reached out and wrapped an arm around her. Pulling her in so that her head was tucked under his chin, he murmured into her hair, “Listen, it doesn’t mean Eden isn’t still alive. It doesn’t mean there’s no hope, okay?”

  He pulled back and placed a finger under her chin, lifting it gently and forcing her to face him. “Look at me, Chloe.”

  She tried, but he blurred before her. Her eyes wouldn’t focus. She blinked. Still blurry.

  A faraway ringing began to get closer. And closer.

  “Chloe.” He shook her gently. “Chloe. Do not go into shock. Stay with me. Can you hear me?”

  The ringing grew louder, but she could tell he was talking to her. Urgently.

  “Drink this. Now.” He grabbed a lukewarm bottle of Coke from the center console and placed it at her lips. “Drink it, Chloe!”

  She sipped it quickly, surprised that it wasn’t flat.

  “Deep breaths,” Gage instructed. “We’re going to stop and get some food somewhere. You need to eat.”

  When the ringing faded, she shook her head.

  “I can’t eat. I’m not hungry. I’m just . . .” She felt helpless. Out of time. Out of the energy to keep trying to muster up even an ounce of hope. She felt the last of it draining out of her, vanishing like cigarette smoke vapors into the night sky.

  “I know,” Gage finished for her. “But Caroline isn’t Eden, and Eden isn’t Caroline. For all we know, JJ and Antonio are responsible for what happened to Caroline and Eden’s disappearance is completely unrelated. Eden’s only connection to those guys was that she was friends with Caroline. If there were any more to it than that McCain would’ve found it.”

  Chloe huffed out a sound of disbelief. “Gage . . . two similar-looking women held two jobs in the same two places. One of them is dead. The other is missing. Has been missing for over a week now. I can do the math.”

  Before Gage could argue, she continued.

  “Caroline’s body . . . when I was looking for the gallbladder removal scars, I saw burn marks. Several burn marks. Deep marks. She wasn’t just killed, Gage. She was tortured.”

  Her teeth clenched together as she shuddered at the thought.

  “Whatever happened to my sister, it’s bad. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can feel it. I’ve been able to feel it since I got here. A sense of bone-deep certainty that she’s in pain. That she’s afraid, terrified, and now . . .”

  “Now what?” Gage pressed. “How do you feel now? I’m not discounting your feelings. I’ve read reports of all kinds of twins having an inexplicable connection.”

  “Hopeless.” Chloe couldn’t swallow over the lump forming in her throat as it constricted. “I think, if she’s still alive, she’s lost all hope. It came over me fast and all-consuming. I know I sound crazy.”

  He shook his head as a large eighteen-wheeler blew past and reminded them both that they were on the side of the highway.

  “It’s not crazy. I think you should pay attention to your intuition and instincts.”

  “I’m tired, Gage. I’m so tired.” Tears filled her eyes, and when they started to roll down her face, she let them. Not even bothering to wipe the traces of them away, she pulled her knees to her chest. “Can we stay at her house tonight? I feel her more when I’m there. Crazy as it sounds, I just do.”

  Gage wiped her tears with his thumb. “I’ll check and see if it’s been fully processed.”

  “Take me home, please.”

  It wasn’t her home, but right now it was the only place she could feel Eden. Could smell her. Could see touches of her personality in the decor, in the organized chaos. So it was where she wanted to be.

  18

  “For the tenth time, I’m staying in the director’s office. I swear. I will not come out until you come get me.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I
’ll be right up as soon as this is over.”

  They’d been asleep only a few hours—Chloe in Eden’s bed and him in the guest room—when, true to his word, Holt McCain had called first thing in the morning. In addition to Ulrich, he had JJ ready to come into the office for questioning. Joey had been easier to get ahold of, since he was in lockup only an hour away. Caroline’s ex-husband hadn’t had much to offer except that he knew JJ and Antonio’s men had paid Caroline a few visits in an attempt to get the money he owed them.

  Joey Lester had “lost” twenty thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine that he was supposed to be selling for Antonio. He’d gotten locked up before he could get the money together to deliver it to JJ, the middle man. He didn’t know if Caroline had ever given them any money. He said Antonio commented that she was “working off the debt” another way.

  Chloe had originally agreed not to come, but after learning about Caroline, she didn’t want to be alone any more than Gage wanted her to be.

  He made his way to the interrogation room where JJ was, and was surprised to find an attractive redhead already at the door.

  “Elaina Keats,” she greeted him kindly. “Erin called me in. We’re old friends. She thought I might be able to help.”

  “Special Agent Gage Pierce.” He shook her delicate hand. “We’re dealing with a possible kidnapping here, so I appreciate all the help we can get.”

  “Dr. Elaina Keats,” his director broke in. “She’s being modest.”

  “Just Elaina is fine. Please,” the redhead requested.

  Director Anderson-Wyatt turned to Gage. “We were college roommates. When it comes to getting answers out of people who don’t want to talk, she’s the best. I had her consulting on another case when you called to say you were bringing a suspect in, so I asked her to sit in on this one. That okay with you, Pierce?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He briefed Dr. Keats before they entered the room. Once inside, he let her take the lead. Well, she took the lead. He could already tell she wasn’t the type who waited for permission, and he appreciated that.