by Desiree Holt
It didn’t get any better when the ‘visitors’ arrived late that afternoon. No one had to tell her that posing for pictures wasn’t the only thing she was expected to do. Then she had by accident overheard a phone conversation that reinforced her unfortunate belief that something was very wrong here and she’d made a huge mistake.
She excused herself to use the restroom, taking the hallway that passed the owner’s den, where the door stood a tiny bit ajar. The man himself, their host, Señor Madea, was on the phone.
“Don’t be an idiot. I can’t just load them up and send them back. I’ve told you that every other time you’ve called. Arrangements have been made. By midnight tonight, they’ll all be loaded on the boat and there will be no worries.”
Loaded on the boat? What boat?
Arianna pressed herself hard against the wall, trying to hear the rest of the one-sided conversation, hoping no one else would come along.
“What? Fuck you. Craig would never have let this happen. If those people come storming onto this island, you and I might just as well be dead. What? Fine, but I don’t guarantee that you or I will live to see next week. I’ll go tell them to get the plane ready now.”
Arianna scurried along the hallway to the little guest bathroom, closed and locked the door and leaned against it, trembling. Was it possible they were going to be rescued? That the plane would fly them home?
At last, composed, she made her way back to the pool, where a shouting match was in progress between Señor Madea and two of his guests. Three of the men she had assumed were his security guards on the island were rounding everyone up and telling them to pack their equipment pronto. People were scurrying in every direction and the Bella Donna agent was yelling at the girls to get their asses in gear, to gather what they could and hop into one of the long golf carts parked in the big paved area outside the front door.
She said a silent prayer as she ran for her little travel bag, which was all she’d been allowed to bring, and hurried outside, determined not to be left behind.
I’ll never be this stupid again, if I can just get home safely.
Chapter Thirteen
Almost everyone had left the Elite offices by the time they walked in. Noah and Taylor were standing in the reception area, both texting on their cell phones.
“Oh, good,” Taylor said. “You’re back. I can hardly wait to hear what you’ve found out.”
“Not much, but that in itself was interesting,” Lindsey told her. “Masquerade is quite the place.”
“Let’s go ahead and close up and you can tell us all about it over dinner.”
They decided to eat at the Italian restaurant across from the office building for the sake of convenience. For the first time today, Lindsey began to unwind a little. While they ate, Lindsey and John filled Noah and Taylor in on what they’d discovered and all about the visit to Masquerade.
“I completely missed this during the first pass at the accounts,” John told them. “The first thing I look for is anything out of the ordinary, and this time, for whatever reason, I didn’t find anything.”
“Because it didn’t stick out,” Lindsey pointed out. “Why would you think anything unusual about a small client who didn’t need much in the way of services? I certainly didn’t. You were looking for big dollars and places to move them around. That’s why, the first time around, it never tripped any signal wires.”
“I just hate the thought of some fucker being cleverer than I am,” John griped.
Lindsey gave a small laugh. “John, none of us is perfect. And Masquerade wasn’t high on the list of anything we’ve been investigating. We had no reason to look there for irregularities. None. That’s just the damn fact, so let it go and move forward.”
Still, she already knew John well enough to be aware of the fact it wouldn’t stop there. Even if it turned out they had nothing to do with Craig’s death, there was definitely something wrong. He would make it his business to find a way to take it down and everyone connected with it. And now he would be even more intense about it. A tiger had been unleashed and someone had to pay for that.
“Lindsey.” Noah looked at her across the table. “Do you think they could be moving drugs through there?”
“I have no idea what a situation like that would look like, but yes. It’s possible. I know spas get deliveries of goods on a regular basis.”
Taylor leaned forward. “So, a dealer, for example, could bring the dope to Fort Lauderdale, package it in boxes disguised as spa goods and have it delivered to Masquerade. But moving it out of there wouldn’t be that easy to disguise.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Noah told her. “Kilos of heroin or whatever drug is on tap are not very big. But each container can be cut and repackaged hundreds of times and delivered to the dealers. Who’s going to stop a woman with a big shopping bag from a spa?”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “Sorry. That was dumb of me.”
“Not dumb. Just not something you’d think of off the top of your head. But it’s a very real possibility.” He took a swallow of coffee, set his cup down and looked around the table at everyone. “And if they are also using it as part of their sex trafficking ring, maybe a place to beautify the girls, then everything you saw is right on target.”
“I think my warning lights blinked as much regarding the girls brought in by women who didn’t act at all like their mothers as they did by the fact they don’t have time to book an appointment for me. No place like that turns away business. You find a way to make it work.”
“Okay, Lindsey and John. I think your assessment of Masquerade is right on the money. One of the Arroyo companies owns a chain of spas. Whenever we’re in a city where one is located, we always check it out. If a customer wants an appointment, no matter how booked they are, they always manage to work you in. I’m sure they never tell anyone they can’t go inside to where the main part of the spa is. That would set off warning bells right away.”
“Well.” Lindsey sighed. “On the one hand, I’m glad to know I wasn’t wrong when my suspicious nature reared its head. On the other, however, it upsets me to learn that one of our clients may not be on the up and up and I never knew anything about it. Never even suspected.”
“So, let’s talk about tomorrow.” Taylor looked at Lindsey. “First on your list will be full-out research on Masquerade. Every tiny bit of info you can find. John can tell you how to access sites not even on your radar and you can follow through with that while he digs into Craig’s finances. Are you good with that?”
“I can do it,” Lindsey assured her. “No worries.”
“Fine. If you have problems accessing anything, ask John. I swear, he can find one black grain of sand on the beach.”
He grinned. “It’s all in knowing where to look and how.”
“All right. John, go ahead and access Craig’s bank accounts. I’ve got the paperwork to cover you. I want to know where every penny came from and where it went. Go back as far as you possibly can, both of you.”
John made a note. “You don’t think Natalia will freak if she finds out we’re going through Craig’s bank records?”
Taylor shrugged. “His personal finances are tied to Elite, so she doesn’t have a choice. In any event, John, I know you can do it without her even having a hint of what’s going on.”
He nodded. “My specialty.”
“Don’t forget we have the funeral tomorrow at two,” Lindsey reminded everyone.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten,” Taylor assured her. “Believe me. I’m actually looking forward to it so I can eyeball some of these people. I’ll bet whoever owns Masquerade will be there.”
“Yes, if he—or she—is such a good friend,” Lindsey added, “I’m sure they’ll show up for the funeral. It will be interesting to see the mixture of people.”
Noah snorted. “You can bet Ruben Madea won’t be one of them.”
“I’m sure,” Taylor agreed. “My money says he’ll stay as far away from this as
possible.”
“But there’s still the business he was in with Craig—what happens to that? Won’t he want to follow through on something that’s unfinished? Is he expecting money for drugs he facilitated? Anything else? Other merchandise? A payout?”
“What other kind of merchandise?” Lindsey asked.
Noah’s features settled into a hard mask. “I hesitate to even say the words, but is there a possibility Craig was involved in the illegal sale of guns?”
“Guns?” For a minute Lindsey was afraid she would faint. She was a news junkie and knew about illegal arms dealt to rebel groups in other countries, to drug cartels, to terrorists. The thought made her ill.
“Here. Drink this.” John handed her a glass of water.
She sipped it slowly, taking a minute to gather her thoughts.
“Sorry.” She tried to smile. “I think I hate illegal guns worse than drugs.”
“It’s a very lucrative business,” Noah pointed out. “I’m already pissed that Craig might have been dealing drugs right under our noses. Add the possibility of guns to that, and my blood pressure goes through the roof.”
“Craig’s lucky he’s already dead,” Taylor told them, “or Noah would be all over him. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. We have no proof of anything. For all we know, Masquerade could simply be a conduit to wash money for drug cartels. Which, while far from a good thing, is better than the alternatives. Let’s just hope all this turns out to be far-fetched.”
“Amen to that,” Lindsey agreed.
“I need to get into those accounts first thing tomorrow,” John told them. “I’ll plan on getting to the office very early and getting started.”
“As I said earlier, I have the paperwork to cover us,” Taylor said, “so you can dig into Craig Wainwright’s bank accounts.”
“Oh, I’m geared up for this all right. Have you ever known me not to be?”
“Good.” Noah finished his coffee and signaled for the check. “We’ve all had a busy day. I say let’s get some sleep because tomorrow will be even more intense.”
By the time they left the restaurant, Lindsey was fighting both physical and mental exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to go home and soak in her big tub. One of the first things she’d done when she bought the house was to have a luxurious spa tub installed. Every time she soaked in it, she counted it money well spent. Would John be sharing it with her tonight? Should she ask him? Wait for him to say something?
She was still trying to figure it out when Noah left to get their car. But as she stood in front of the restaurant, she wondered if the Cantrells felt as awkward as she did. John was still without wheels of his own. Would he catch a ride back to the hotel with the Cantrells? Ask to come home with her? In front of Noah and Taylor? Should she say something?
Was that a smile Taylor was doing her best to hide? Did she know about last night? Was the chemistry between Lindsey and John so strong it was almost visible?
When neither she nor John uttered a word, Taylor added, “I’ll let the two of you figure out the best place to do it. Oh, here’s our car. See you in the morning.” As she got into the car, she looked back at them. “Don’t stay up too late.”
The car pulled away from the curb and Lindsey turned to stare at John.
“She knows.”
He winked, swallowing a grin. “Yes, I’m afraid so. And probably she’s always known. It’s very difficult to hide anything from her.”
“I don’t know whether to laugh, cry or hide in embarrassment.”
John pulled her into his arms against his hard body.
“A smile will do. We’re working hard at this, Lindsey. Nothing we’re doing has suffered and it won’t. But be warned. I kicked myself for so long for being such a selfish, arrogant fool before. I always figured there’d be plenty of time if we got to it, then I almost ran out of time. I’m not going to miss this chance for us again. That’s a promise. Trust me, and I mean that.”
She wanted to, in the worst way. She was sure, also, that if either Taylor or Noah had felt this was a bad idea, they would have spoken out.
“Okay.” She blew out a breath. “I believe you. But…”
He touched the tips of his fingers to her lips. “I hear you. No buts this time. How about taking me home with you again?”
“Will we be making another early morning run to the hotel?” she teased. “You know, so you can be presentable when you get to the office?”
“I took care of it for the moment, being hopeful. We need to go back to the office for my messenger bag, where I stashed some clean stuff and a shaving kit. I’m kind of hoping I can lose the hotel room after this.”
Her heart did a little jitterbug. That would be taking a huge step forward and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
“Or not,” he said, forcing a smile. “I just want you to know I’m all in.”
“Let’s see how tonight goes, okay?”
She was encouraged when he didn’t draw away from her. Instead, he pulled her against his body, letting her feel everything from his rigid abs to his thick, hard, swollen cock. He slid his lips in a light caress over hers before taking a step back.
“You’re calling the shots, Lindsey. Whatever you want is what we’ll do.”
When he said that she almost told him they’d go get the rest of his stuff, but she stopped herself. She wanted this one more night to be sure she wasn’t making a mistake.
“I want to go home and climb into my spa tub and forget about Masquerade and Craig Wainwright for tonight.”
“I can get with that program, as long as there’s room in there for me.”
“I think we can manage that.”
* * * *
A thread of excitement wiggled through her when they stepped into her house. John followed her into her bedroom, dropping his messenger bag next to her small tufted chair. When she walked into the bathroom, all she could think about was the two of them in the big tub that was the centerpiece of the room. Her breasts ached with heaviness and the pulse in her sex throbbed so hard it threatened to pound loud enough to be heard. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together. No, she wanted John’s shaft inside her hot, slick channel, then she wanted to squeeze.
Get a grip, Lindsey. The night has hardly begun.
“That’s some tub.”
She startled when he slid his hands around her waist, unaware that he had moved up so close behind her. He tugged her back a little, so she leaned into his body.
“It was my treat to myself when I bought the house. You have no idea how many nights it’s been my savior.”
He nuzzled her neck then took a tiny nip of the lobe of her ear.
“You going to show me how it works?” His tongue drew a line down her neck. “Share it with me?”
“Um, yes. I mean, I will. Of course.”
When he licked and nibbled at her like that her brains scattered and she couldn’t put a decent sentence together if her life depended on it.
She slipped from his grasp and bent down to turn on the taps. A push of a button set the jets working, pushing bubbles through the warmed water. Lindsey lifted a bottle from the little table beside the tub, uncapped it and sprinkled the essence of hyacinth into the water. The scent filled the air, just a hint of it but enough to tantalize and arouse.
“I’m going to undress you,” John said, tugging her silk top over her head, “one item at a time.”
He tossed the garment to one side then strung light kisses up the length of her spine, from shoulder to shoulder. He coasted his mouth back to the nape of her neck and went to work again, teasing with light nibbles. Next came her bra, which followed her top. Still standing behind her, he eased his hands around to cup her breasts. When he pinched her nipples, she sucked in a breath at the spears of heat that lasered through her, right to her soaking-wet sex.
“I remember how much you liked that,” he murmured. “I even made you come just by playing with your nipples. I made you lie back
against me and braced your legs apart with mine. Then I worried and teased those nipples until that orgasm just burst from inside you. Remember?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “I do. I do.”
“You wanted to squeeze your thighs together so much. You begged for me to let you touch yourself. Play with your clit. I finally let you touch it and pinch it, but no fingers inside yourself. Remember that?”
“Oh, god. Yes.”
“You know how hot that was? My cock was so hard and aching that one touch and I’d have gone off like a rocket.”
John moved his hands to lower the zipper of her skirt and ease it down so it pooled at her feet.
Her sex was pulsing now with tiny spasms and her clit ached and throbbed. Then he slipped one hand into the front of her bikini thong and eased his finger between her swollen lips until he touched that sensitive bundle of flesh. When he began to stroke it, Lindsey sucked in her breath, her entire body quivering with the desire to come.
“Clasp your hands behind your head,” he ordered.
When she did, it gave him even greater access to her. With one of his hands at her mound and the other cupping a breast, her entire body ached with need.
“The tub,” she managed to say, “I need to turn off the water.”
He looked over her shoulder. “So you do.”
With that, he hooked his thumbs into the lace edging of her thong and tugged it down her legs, helping her to step out of both it and her shoes.
“Bend over and turn off the taps.” His voice was hoarse with need and hunger.
She planted her feet on the floor and bent from the waist, reaching across to where the taps were. When she did he slipped one hand into the hot crevice between the cheeks of her ass and drew his thumb in a straight line down to her opening. She tightened her muscles around it, every bit of her straining to draw it in deeper.
But then, damn it, he backed away. When she turned, he was taking off his own clothes, hanging them with neat precision over the valet rack against the wall. God, she loved to look at him. She didn’t think she’d ever get enough of it. With his sculpted abs, muscular thighs and arms and narrow hips, he had the body of a man fifteen years younger.
