Gone. Not missing.
Bliss swallowed her irritation. Popular theory was that a person had to be MIA for seventy-two hours before they could be considered missing. Popular theory was wrong, and so was the idea that Wendy was just—gone. Someone needed to be searching for her now.
“She’s not at her house, and she’s not answering her phone. I’ve been trying her since last night.” Bliss loved her little sister fiercely. Ever since Wendy gave birth and fell into a depression, they’d begun the habit of getting together every couple of days, sometimes to just sit on the couch and say nothing.
“When was the last time you spoke with her?”
From the bored manner of the officer’s questioning, she could guess how much attention the cops were going to pay her. As soon as she mentioned the depression, they would just roll their eyes and tell her to wait.
“Yesterday afternoon. Maybe five o’ clock?”
“She’s been missing, what?” The officer glanced at his watch. “Sixteen hours? You sure she isn’t sleeping late?”
“No.” Okay, that was a lie. Wendy could be sleeping in late somewhere, just not at her house. Maybe a hotel or a spa somewhere? But she’d have at least let Bliss know.
“Ma’am, you can fill out a report, but chances are she’ll show up later today.” He gestured to the line of people behind her. “Forms are on the right.”
“But...she’s missing. She’s not well. What if something happened to her? Maybe you’ve seen her? My height, but skinny, blonde, brown eyes. Come on.”
“Fill out the paperwork, and someone will look into it. Next.” He gestured to a man and woman behind her. They shouldered past, and all Bliss could do was stare at them.
Was this happening? Her sister was missing. And no one cared.
Wendy was the fragile one. Their parents coddled her, and Bliss became her protector through school. She even transferred colleges to make sure Wendy had someone in her life she could lean on. It was a relief when Grayson fell madly in love with Wendy because it meant she’d never want for anything in her life. She was completely taken care of, thanks to Grayson’s lucrative career designing buildings. But since the baby, Wendy was even more delicate than usual. If Bliss didn’t find her soon, oh God, she couldn’t live with herself. What would she tell Grayson when he came home? At least baby Paul was with his grandparents for a few days.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” A big, hulking man loomed over her. She took a step back instinctively. Something about him telegraphed danger in big, bold letters. He held out a slick white business card.
She glanced at the card. Aegis Group was printed on it in a neat type, no nonsense, no logo. Thick cardstock, with that fancy grain that spoke of understated money. These weren’t bargain business cards some scam artists got off the Internet. It was the nice stuff only those who dealt with rich people used.
Her gaze traveled up the arm to his face. His short-cropped brown hair was slightly bleached, as if he spent a lot of time outside. Dark aviators hid half his face, but what she could see was his strong, angular jaw. If he were selling a product, it would be something dangerous and manly. Not guns though, he was someone who liked to use his hands. A knife, maybe something more covert.
“Can I see that picture?” He gestured to the photo she held clutched in her hand.
“Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Travis. I work with a private security company. I want to see if I can help. What’s your name?”
Was this a scam? Grayson had a lot of money. What if someone picked up Wendy with the intent to ransom her back?
“Officer?” She raised her voice and side-stepped the man.
The officer sighed audibly and glanced at her, then the hulking brute.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“Some PI.” The officer shrugged.
Great. Lot of good the cops were going to do her today.
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” Bliss was running out of options. She didn’t have the kind of resources Grayson did, but if she had to hire a private investigator, well, she wanted someone scary on their side, and this guy fit the bill. Hadn’t he said his name? Travis?
He turned the business card over.
“Call this number. Ask them to verify for you who I am. What I do.”
She took the card and studied the numbers. It was out of state. Illinois?
“Long way from home?” She dug in her purse for her phone.
“I’m here looking into a case.”
“Why do you want to help me then?”
“The man I’m looking for abducts pretty blonde women born and raised in Las Vegas.” She couldn’t see his eyes, but the way he tipped his chin, she could feel his gaze travel the length of her body. “If your sister is anything like you, she fits the victimology.”
“We’re nothing alike, that’s just it.”
“I don’t mean in looks.” He leaned toward her, staring deep into her eyes. It was an intense sensation to be the focus of this man. “It’s in the eyes. I can’t explain it.”
Bliss stared at him.
Their parents relocated to Vegas after her birth. Wendy was born in Vegas. They hadn’t lived anywhere else. One of Wendy’s problems, if they could be called that, was that she drew too much male attention. She was stunning, with a model’s body and the sweetest disposition. People always said she had the most beautiful eyes.
“Keep talking,” she said.
“The picture?” He held out his hand.
Bliss shoved the snapshot of them at him. It was from just before Wendy had given birth. She’d been tired, but happy.
Travis stared at it for several moments.
“What happens to the women?” she asked. Her mind could fill in the blanks, but she wanted to hear him say it. This couldn’t be real. This kind of thing didn’t happen in real life.
“Want to grab a seat? Maybe some coffee?”
“What happens to the women?”
He stared down at her, and the muscle on the left side of his jaw twitched.
“You should sit before I answer that question.”
“Fine. Where?”
“I saw a café down the street.”
“Lead on.” She gestured the way she’d come. For some reason she didn’t want Travis at her back. He gave her the shivers, but not in a creepy kind of way.
He nodded and strode back to the entry, pausing to hold the door open for her. She stepped out into the sunshine and shivered. Despite the clear blue sky, the breeze was unseasonably chilly. She shoved her hands in her pockets and gripped her phone with one hand, the business card with the other.
How crazy was this?
They were supposed to be planning Christmas...not this.
Her phone vibrated against her palm. She glanced at the screen and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Shit. It’s Grayson—uh, her husband. What do I tell him?” The same panic she’d been fighting all morning wrapped around her throat, making it hard to breath. She glanced up at Travis and she had her anchor.
“The truth,” he said.
Bliss squeezed her eyes shut and answered the phone.
“Hey,” she said.
“Morning. Sorry for calling so late. Things got out of hand this morning. My morning. Your night. How is she?” From the ambient sounds and echoing footsteps, Bliss was willing to bet her brother-in-law was doing some sort of site walkthrough.
“I’ve got some bad news.” She stared at Travis, who gave her a nod.
“What is it?”
“Wendy...is....she’s...Oh, God, Grayson...” She nearly collapsed right there on the sidewalk. Travis caught her around the shoulders while she sobbed and guided her to a bench. He perched next to her, one arm slung around her in a protective embrace.
“Give it to me,” he whispered.
“Hold on.” She thrust the phone into his hand and covered her face, leaning against him.
“Grayson, my name is
Travis Ration, I work for the Aegis Group, a—” He paused and glanced away. “Well, at least we don’t have to do that. Sir, I’m sorry to tell you like this, but your wife appears to have gone missing...Last night. I met Bliss at the PD a few minutes ago, looking into a case I think might be involved...That won’t be necessary...That would work...Here she is.” Travis thrust the phone into her hands. “I’ll be right over there.”
He got up, and she missed his warmth and protective presence immediately. She watched him walk away, hands in his pockets, head swinging side to side, as if he were already on the lookout.
“Bliss?”
“Hey, sorry, it’s me.”
“Is he...is he serious?”
“Dead serious.” She cringed at her poor word choice.
“I’m catching the next plane home. It’ll take me at least sixteen hours from London. We’re going to retain Aegis Group to find her. I don’t care what it costs.” He didn’t skip a beat. There wasn’t any shock or dismay, no denial, he just...hired Travis, a complete stranger, to do it.
“Is that...smart?” She turned and pitched her voice lower. “Who is this guy?”
“I don’t know who he is, but Aegis is the best. Worth every penny.”
What the hell kind of job was he doing that was that dangerous? Didn’t Grayson build offices or something?
“I’m going to lose you. I’ll call back in a bit. I want to know everything.”
She hung up the phone and leaned forward, planting her elbows on her knees. They were supposed to be shopping today for presents. Bliss had even planned to coordinate with Priscilla to make sure the house got decorated and presents wrapped so Wendy didn’t feel the crush of organizing it herself.
What if she never saw her sister again?
Wendy sat with her back to the wall of the cave. Metal bars blocked her path out of the cave or farther back into the rocks. It wasn’t wide, maybe ten or twelve feet across. The bottom was smoothed out. A few rugs and pieces of furniture took up the rest of the space. It was a far cry from the Vegas mansion her husband built for them following their wedding, but at least there was no draft. There was also no light unless Daniel came back.
Her husband.
She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. The darkness spun around her, and she pitched sideways, landing on the soft, inviting bed.
Wendy scrambled to her feet and backed toward the cave entrance. She couldn’t touch the furniture. For a brief period of time when the lights overhead had illuminated her prison, and she did her best to take stock of what was there. That was when she found them. Three pairs of women’s panties stashed under the mattress. All different sizes.
Grayson was her husband, not this crazy psycho. Grayson, who she loved. They had a baby together. Paul.
Oh, Paul.
Her heart clenched and in that moment, she’d have given anything to hold her baby. Anything at all. She never wanted something so bad before, and now it might be too late. Her previous baby boy.
“Hey. Hey.”
She pressed her hands over her ears, willing the voices to go away. She couldn’t handle them. Their smell. She couldn’t even deal with being there.
“Where did Linda go?”
“He killed her.”
“Are you sure? She said, but Linda said there were others before us. I mean, I just thought he kept the women a long time.”
“What do you think?”
“Is she Linda now?”
Wendy squeezed her eyes shut. The three men were in smaller cells behind hers, which meant that in order for Daniel to get to them, he had to go through hers. She could smell the men, or maybe it was their bandages. Was that her fate? What was going to happen to her? Would he chop off parts of her like he’d done to them?
She didn’t dare attempt an escape, not when he’d kill her baby.
Travis was far too big to fit in the only unoccupied booth in the café. He didn’t dare suggest somewhere farther from the PD for fear the woman across from him might faint or cry or something. She’d seemed on the brink of falling apart outside, but she’d rallied and followed him to the café without so much as a tear.
“Here’s your coffee. Can I get you anything else?” The waitress deposited a carafe on the table along with cream and sugar.
“No, thank you,” he replied.
The woman across from him shook her head. Her shoulder length brown hair swished around her face, all glossy looking. For some crazy reason he wanted to touch it. To run his fingers through her pretty hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He kept his hands to himself. Girls like her didn’t need men like him in their lives.
“Bliss, right?”
She nodded her head, sending those strands moving again.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself did I? I’m Bliss Giles.” She cupped the empty ceramic mug with both hands.
He picked up the carafe and poured her some coffee first, then himself. This wasn’t his thing. He didn’t deal with clients, he wasn’t the person to offer comfort or hope. His history hadn’t wired him that way, but for her he’d try.
“Tell me about the last time you saw your sister. Do you mind if I take notes?”
“You said you’d tell me what happened to the other women.” Her dark brown eyes focused on him. She was no longer on the verge of tears or lost in thought. He kind of liked being the center of her focus.
“You don’t want to know that.”
“Yes, I do. And I want to know why you think my sister might be one of them.” She tapped the photograph of Wendy he’d laid on the table.
The two sisters couldn’t be more different. At least on the surface level.
Wendy was petite, blonde, and almost breakable looking. Bliss was shapely, luscious, and that dark hair set off her pale, perfect skin. The one thing the sisters shared was their dark brown, almost black eyes. He’d heard someone call eyes that dark soulless eyes, but looking at Bliss, that sentiment couldn’t be further from the truth. It was the intangible quality the camera captured that he’d seen in the other victim’s photographs pre-death. A light. An inner brightness. This killer snuffed out truly bright flames, and for what?
He was going to find out.
“Tell me.” She leaned closer.
He’d have to give her the Cliff notes version. What would he tell his sister?
No, that was a bad gauge. His sister kept a living collection of TBK documents and coverage. He’d likely tell her everything, because they’d lived through worse.
“Over the last seven years nine Las Vegas women, all blonde, have gone missing. They turn up between a couple months to a year after they were abducted. Dead. About twenty-four hours after the time of death, another girl is taken.”
“What aren’t you telling me? I could find that out for myself.”
“Some things you don’t want to know.”
“I have a right to know. That’s my sister.”
“Then tell me about the last time you saw her. Let me find her.”
“I want to know what you aren’t telling me.”
She was a stubborn little thing.
Travis cleared his throat and made himself relax. Their knees bumped under the table and she shifted, bumping into his other knee. Her cheeks tinged pink, and she finally looked away from him. Interesting. She’d challenge him, but a little knee bump was too much? Women were a mystery.
And better off far away from him.
He had no business thinking about Bliss that way. He was a felon. There was no place for a woman in his life.
“When was the last time you saw Wendy?” He picked up his pen. As fun as it was to share coffee with a pretty girl instead of Ethan’s ugly mug, this was about life and death.
“Yesterday, around five. I left work and stopped by her place to check on her.” She tore open sugar packets one at a time and upended them into her coffee. Her fingers were small, nimble, with nails in three shades of purple. The bangles on her wrist clanged and chimed
as she moved, drawing his attention back to her smallest movement.
“Check on her? Was something wrong? Did she tell you anything?”
“Wendy...” Bliss bit her lip and glanced out of the window, tucking her hair behind her ear. There was a small tattoo there, partially hidden. It made him wonder if there was more ink on her body. Not that it was any of his business. “Wendy has post-partum depression. Her in-laws are babysitting Paul while her husband is out of town. They’re looking for a nanny to take care of him. Well, both of them, really. She’s been very out of sorts since his birth.”
“She just had a baby?” He swallowed.
Fuck.
“Yeah. Why? Is that important?”
“Is the baby missing?” His gut rolled, and he gripped the pen so tight the plastic buckled under his fingers.
“No, he’s with his grandparents.”
“Poor kid,” he muttered. “Did she say anything about seeing anyone? Someone following her? Anyone giving her the creeps?”
“No. Wendy barely leaves the house unless someone makes her. The depression is really bad.”
“Have you been to her house?”
“Yeah, she was supposed to meet me this morning, but she didn’t show, so I went to get her out of bed. The house is perfect. Clean. The beds all made.”
“Could she be at a hotel or somewhere?”
“I don’t think so. If Wendy didn’t have to leave the house, she wouldn’t. This depression, it’s bad. If we didn’t make her eat, she would starve.”
“Could I take a look at the house? I might see something you don’t.”
“What’s so bad you won’t tell me?” Once more, those dark eyes focused on him, compelling him to share the worst of it with her.
“We’re going to find her before that’s an issue.”
What the hell?
He couldn’t promise her that, and yet he just had.
3.
Blood.
The stone below the bed was stained with blood.
Wendy gripped the bars as her stomach revolted. Bile coated her mouth, and the muscles in her abdomen and chest tensed in irregular rhythms. Dying might be less painful.
“Lady, hey lady, you got to calm down.” Stumpy was in the cell right behind her. He only had one foot. The other leg was mostly gone.
Dangerous Attraction: Part One (Aegis Group) Page 2