Siren Unleashed [Texas Sirens 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (40 page)

Nick hit on his clients? Yeah. She could buy that. He hit on just about anything with breasts, but apparently he’d gotten caught with a client, though Nat hadn’t heard anything about it. Nick hadn’t even been called out on it.

Or had he? Nick had been awfully quiet lately.

Nat frowned as she read the notes about herself. Melissa didn’t like the pink hair, thought she was rude, and had made a note to watch Natalie for possibly not reporting all her tips to the IRS. There was a small note about how much that information might be worth.

Holy shit
. Was Melissa blackmailing the employees?

Nat looked around. Still no one. She needed Chase. Chase could figure this out. Chase would be able to look at it and logically deduce the truth. Nat used the mouse to pull out the e-mail, and there it was. A whole file of e-mails sent to her fellow therapists.

Gretchen? There were several sent to Gretchen. What the hell had Gretchen done?

Nat knew she should leave well enough alone, but she couldn’t. She had to look. Had Gretchen been stealing tips? Yogurt?

Natalie gasped because that wasn’t what Gretchen had been doing. Pictures of her with Stan Kirkman had been attached to an e-mail requesting an enormous amount of money or she would tell the sheriff that Gretchen had been screwing Kirkman for months and starting rumors that it had been Natalie. She also threatened to out Gretchen for working at a strip club.

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.

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.”