by Sophie Oak
Tears pricked Nat’s eyes. No wonder Juliet thought she was sleeping with Stan. Gretchen had apparently been telling everyone.
And she’d likely killed Stan. Damn it.
“Georgia, we need to get out of here.”
“Uhm, I don’t think that’s happening.” Georgia’s voice shook just slightly.
Nat looked up. Gretchen stood beside Georgia, a nasty-looking gun in her hand. It was pressed to Georgia’s temple. “I think we should move this to somewhere a little more private.”
Nat stood, her heart pounding. “I don’t think so, Gretch. I don’t think you can handle both of us, and Logan will be here in a minute. Think about this for two seconds.”
Gretchen wasn’t bad. She was just lost.
Or maybe not because the smile that slid across her face was pretty fucking nasty. “I don’t think so. And I don’t have to handle you on my own. I have my Master.”
Nat turned and was immediately assaulted. A white cloth covered her face and a horrible smell assailed her. Fuck. Chloroform. Her world went hazy, but she could see a man’s face in front of her. Tate’s usually lazy green eyes seemed intense and dark. He stared down at her even as the chloroform started to take effect.
“Tell Cooder we have an extra girl to auction off tonight and she looks like she’ll be a fun one. Blondes go for a lot, you know.” Nat could hear the words but they didn’t seem to make sense.
She opened her eyes, but he was gauzy. Why was Tate here? Why was he holding that cloth? Why couldn’t she move her arms?
“But I won’t sell you, love. I waited a lifetime for you.” The words that came out of Tate’s mouth seemed low and long. Every syllable took forever to say.
Freaking hell. She started the long slide to the floor. Nothing worked anymore. She couldn’t stand.
Tate was here, and she was going back to hell.
Chapter Eighteen
Chase tried Nat’s number again. Fucking voice mail.
“Tell me again.” Ben’s voice was tight as he made the turn from the long dirt road that led to the highway from the Barnes-Fleetwood ranch. “How is that fucker Tate involved in this?”
Chase’s gut was churning. Why the hell wouldn’t she answer? Logan wasn’t answering either. Motherfucker. “Tate isn’t his real name. Dane sent over a whole dossier. We only scratched the surface in the initial skip trace. I believe the man we know as Tate Evans is actually Tate Evans’s brother, a man by the name of Donald Evans, who was an investment banker in Houston up until last year. I should have seen it, but they look a lot alike. Their driver’s license photos are very similar, but I can verify that Tate Evans is happily working in San Diego.”
“I ran that skip trace,” Ben said, his voice tight.
And Ben would be feeling righteously guilty. “Dude, it was a background check for a job. If I had looked at that driver’s license, I wouldn’t have thought twice. Neither man has ever had trouble with the law, but Donald Evans has serious ties to Eric “Hawk” Norris. They worked together in several business ventures. Don Evans served as the investment consultant for Hawk and for several of his rather unsavory business partners. He wasn’t connected financially in any way that wasn’t on the up-and-up, but I can put two and two together.”
The cops couldn’t, but Chase could. Don Evans had likely been one of the men who ran in Hawk’s criminal circle.
“He’s the one who wanted to buy Natalie.” Ben’s voice was a tortured groan. “Fuck. I approved his application seven months ago. I did this.”
Chase tried Nat’s number again. Fucking voice mail. What was going on? Why the hell wasn’t she answering? “You did not do this. I would have approved the app, too. There was no reason to think Tate Evans, a man who had been working at a resort in San Diego, wouldn’t want to come here. He was screened by Julian and passed all the tests. We just didn’t know that he was Don and not Tate. They’re practically fucking twins.”
And one of them was a complete psycho who wanted to buy Chase’s wife.
His gut was in a horrible knot.
“Try Kitten if Logan isn’t answering.” Ben sped up, the SUV barreling down the road. His eyes narrowed as though all he could see was the blacktop in front of them and the space that separated them from Natalie.
The resort. They all had to still be at the resort. It was up ahead. A white van emblazoned with a local cleaners logo barreled by. Everything looked perfectly normal. They would get to the resort and Natalie would be standing around talking to her work friends, and she would be alive and perfectly fine. Sure, she would be a little shocked when he walked up to the fucker Tate and put a bullet in his brainpan, but that was just the way things went sometimes.
Or he could have Ben snipe the fucker.
“Did Barnes loan you a rifle?” Ben could always practically read his mind.
“There’s a rifle with a scope in the back if we need it and extra clips for the SIGs.” He growled a little as he found Kitten’s number. He was going to kill that fucker, and if Gretchen had anything to do with trying to set Natalie up, he would very quietly kill her, too.
“Hello, Master Chase. How are you this morning?” Kitten sounded bright and sunny and perfectly happy. Thank god.
“Hey, Kitten, I need you to put Natalie on the phone, and tell Logan that I’m kicking his ass for not answering his phone.”
Kitten laughed. “Oh, Master Logan is stuck in the rosebushes. Georgia decided to throw his phone into the gardens.”
“He’s going to have to do something about her. Now let me talk to Nat.” Ben turned down the final drive. The spa was up ahead. In the distance, he could make out the SUV Logan had been driving. He squinted, trying to see if he could find Natalie’s pink hair shining in the sun. He wouldn’t be able to relax until he’d put his hands on her.
“I have to find her. Is her phone not working?” Up ahead in the distance, Kitten’s petite form came into view. She walked across the grass toward the spa.
Logan ran in behind her, reaching for the phone. “I am going to blister your sister’s backside. Do you understand me? I don’t care that she’s your blood. She’s gone too far. Georgia seems to think everyone she meets is a goddamn millionaire and that they can replace anything.”
He didn’t have time to deal with Georgia’s damage. “Tate Evans is the man who tried to buy Natalie back when she was kidnapped. As far as I can tell, he’s likely been stalking her for months. I think he’s managed to set up another slavery ring here in Willow Fork, probably run by drug money.”
“Holy shit. You’re talking about that Dom who works here? The blond one?” Logan stopped, reaching a hand out for Kitten.
Ben screamed into the parking space, barely missing the car next to them. He slammed the car in park and was out of the driver’s side door before Chase could reply. “Natalie!”
Logan switched off the phone. “She and Georgia went inside to clean out her locker. What’s wrong? They’ve been inside for like ten minutes, tops.”
She’d been out of Logan’s sight for ten minutes? A lot could happen in ten minutes. The world could fucking fall down in ten minutes.
Chase took off, his brother at his side. Ben kept pace as they sprinted through the spa’s double doors.
Chase stopped, the spa’s aroma washing over him. Lavender. The whole place was done in dark wood and peaceful tones of green and blue. But god, that pan flute music needed to go.
“Where’s the receptionist?” Ben asked, looking around. “Shouldn’t someone be manning the desk?”
Logan and Kitten walked in as Ben glanced around the space. Chase had walked through once a few days before, but he remembered where everything was. The locker room was through the west hall, three doors down and on the right. Natalie’s personal locker was number ten.
“I believe I found the receptionist, Master Chase.” Kitten’s voice shook slightly. Her eyes were wide as she stepped out of the room titled the “Relaxation Suite.” “She’s in here.”
> “Ask her where Natalie is,” Ben said.
But Chase could read Kitten’s fear so easily. “She can’t. She’s dead.”
Logan cursed and walked through the door.
Chase stopped and closed his eyes, trying to see the lobby the way it had been the last time he’d seen it. He pulled the memory out of his head and then looked around, catching everything that had changed. “The computer is missing. The phone is in the wrong place.”
Ben held up a phone cord. “Someone unplugged it.”
Logan’s face told the tale as he walked back into the lobby. “I have one dead body. The receptionist. She had on a name tag. Melissa. It’s dark in there, but if I had to guess she was strangled. It looks like someone got interrupted.”
By Natalie.
Ben held a small washcloth up. “Is this what I think it is? Is this chloroform?”
“Don’t sniff it.” Chase’s stomach churned. Tate had been here. He’d killed the receptionist and taken Natalie.
“Georgia?” Logan’s face went white. His fists clenched at his sides as he started to walk through the hall. “Georgia! Goddamn it, I swear I’ll kill you if you’re dead.”
“Stop it, Logan.” Georgia wasn’t dead. Tate wouldn’t waste her that way. The receptionist was in her late forties and plain-faced. Georgia would be worth a lot on the open market. “He won’t kill her. He’d rather sell her.”
“I’ll kill that fucker. I swear to god, I will kill him,” Logan vowed.
Kitten bit back a cry, her shoulders slumping. “Kitten doesn’t want to go back. Kitten will not go back.”
Logan stopped as though realizing he couldn’t afford for Kitten to freak out. “I’ll take you back to the ranch, Kitten. I’ll make sure you’re safe, but I have to look for her. You understand?”
Tears coursed down Kitten’s face. She held Logan’s hand, but she took a long breath as she looked to Chase. “He has Natalie. Do you think Gretchen was involved? She talked about this man, this Tate, as though he was her Master. Gretchen is wrong. I mean there is something wrong with her. I think sometimes she misses Hawk. I know I’m screwed up, Master Chase. I know I’m wrong, too, but I do not miss him. I thank the heavens every single day that Natalie was strong enough to kill him.”
Ben was on the phone, calling the sheriff, but it would be useless. The local police were worthless.
“I think Gretchen is helping Tate. Kitten, if you know anything, now is the time to tell me. Natalie is at risk. Natalie could be hurt right now.” Chase’s brain swam with the possibilities.
Kitten took a long breath. “I don’t know. I will think about it. We should search Gretchen’s room. Do you want Kitt…me to go look? I can find someone who will let me in. I can do it on my own, Master Chase. I can handle it. I can do it for Natalie.”
Anything would help. “Look for a journal or a day planner. I need to know where she’s been lately. Go and ask Gaby to have her husband help you. Not because you can’t do it, Kitten. You can. I would just prefer every female in our group had an escort for now. Logan, please go and check every room in the place. We have to make sure she’s not here.”
Logan took off, Kitten started running toward the main resort, but Ben was suddenly at his side, his face an ashen gray. “She was in the white van, wasn’t she?”
The van they had passed on the road had been speeding down the lane. And now that he really considered that single moment, he rather thought it had been Gretchen driving the van. He could see her. Her hair had been pulled back into a trucker cap, but it could easily have been her. He’d been distracted, trying to contact Natalie. He hadn’t really looked at her. Hadn’t considered the possibilities.
He had to calm down. Natalie needed him icy cold, not hot with worry.
“Slow down, Chase. I need you. She needs you. This is what you do.” Ben’s voice was steady, his calm presence the anchor that steadied him. “He won’t kill her. He wants her. He’s got to take her somewhere. He’s going to sell Georgia and likely the other missing girls. There have been two who’ve gone missing in the last four months. He’s held them somewhere. He’s trained them. He’s going to make his profit.”
Hannah Wells and Michelle Nelson. Barnes had shown him pictures. Young women in their early twenties, both from dirt-poor families, and both had had trouble with the law. They were easy to miss. The sheriff hadn’t cared. It had taken the Nelson family eight days to decide that Michelle was missing and not just drunk somewhere.
They had to have a place to keep those girls.
All he needed to do was figure out where. Process of elimination. He needed his computer and a little bit of hackery. “We need to go back to the ranch. I need my computer.”
He would find her. Or he would die trying.
* * * *
Chase was going to kill him. Natalie was out there somewhere and Chase couldn’t use anyone’s computer but his own.
Damn it.
Ben looked down at his brother. Chase’s hands flew across the keys.
“Shouldn’t we just head out to the strip club and start beating the shit out of anyone we find?” It had been an hour. God only knew what could happen to Natalie after an hour with that freak. She could have been raped, beaten, tortured. It was all playing through Ben’s head. Horror stories that wouldn’t cease.
“There’s no way to train them at the strip club. It’s too small. They might use it for the auction. Did you call that number?” Chase asked.
The fucking nasty little text about the auction for the night. Ben hadn’t even thought about it. All he’d been able to think about was Natalie and the fact that he didn’t know where she was. He loved her. She was out in the world, and he wasn’t there to protect her.
“I’ll call it now. But I think we should go to that club.” Wispers. The drugs ran through there. Gretchen worked there. It had to be there.
Though how would they manage to train the women? All of the strippers would have to be in on it. They might be able to hold the women there, but training would require space and a dungeon. The training had been Hawk’s hallmark. He’d enjoyed breaking the women.
What if Tate just got rid of them? What if Tate just walked away with Natalie?
And Georgia. His sister was out there, too. Georgia was a pain in everyone’s ass, but she was a sweet woman under all that brat. He could still see her when she was six years old and going off to school for the first time. Her nanny had been too busy fucking their dad. Win had to drive her to school. Ben had been the one to find her clothes and to try to brush her hair. Ben had been the one to hold her hand and walk her inside. He’d been a dumb-ass fifteen-year-old, but even then he’d been able to feel her anxiety, the way her hand trembled in his.
“We’re going to find them. Both of them.” Chase never looked up from his system. He’d hacked into the county files and was going over every building plan there was.
Jack Barnes walked into the room, a serious look on his face. Sam Fleetwood trailed after him, hanging up his phone and sliding it into his pocket. “I have some news. You aren’t going to like it.”
“Did Tate walk into the sheriff’s office?” Chase’s face was shadowed, the light of the computer screen glowing and making him look ghostly. “It’s what I would do if I was him. I would have stashed the girls and started getting my alibi straight. There’s not a lot we can do.”
“He showed up at the spa,” Barnes corrected. “The sheriff was out there with Logan taking his statement on how he and Kitten found the body. Tate walked in and apparently he hasn’t been off the grounds. He was in Gaby Reed’s office when you found the body. It would have been easy for him to load up the girls in that van you saw and send Gretchen on her way, and then sneak around to the offices and sit down for a talk with his boss.”
“And that’s where he was when the sheriff showed up,” Ben concluded. “Motherfucker.”
“It gets worse.” Barnes scrubbed a hand across his hair. “According to Gaby, he’s been comp
laining about Gretchen for a month.”
Ben groaned. He could guess what the little fucker was doing. “He’s said Gretchen is possessive?”
Chase huffed a little. “It’s not a bad play. If Gretchen is as insane as I think she is, she wouldn’t mind taking the fall for her precious Master, though I doubt she means to turn herself in. She’s counting on the fucker taking her with him. All he needs is a few days to get Natalie out of the country.”
“If he has her in the right place, he can take his time.” His mentor had held Natalie and Kitten for long periods of time. All he needed was someplace quiet. Gretchen could feed Natalie, keep her drugged up, and when the heat was off, they would move her and Ben and Chase would never see her again.
Except he wasn’t going to let that happen. He would kill Tate first. He would show that asshole the meaning of torture. He would get him to talk. In the end, Tate…Donald…whoever he was, would give up Natalie because he couldn’t stand the pain anymore.
“Call the number while I have Barnes look at these addresses. I’ve narrowed it down to five places with the proper utilities access, space, and privacy for a dungeon. None of them have power turned on, but I’ll assume they’re using a generator of some kind.”
Ben could feel the anxiety pouring off his brother, but his voice was calm, cold even. If someone looked at Chase from the outside, all they would see was a placid professional doing his job, but Ben knew the truth. His brother loved Natalie and this was killing him. Ben took hard reins on his own emotions. He had to stay calm for Chase to be able to work. Chase needed him, and not just to get girls or keep him from being bored. Chase might be the brains of the operation, but he needed Ben to function.
And they needed Natalie in ways Ben had barely started to comprehend.
“Benjamin?” Chase looked up, his eyes tight, a silent plea in them. Help me. Stay calm.