by Autumn Reed
Friday, May 8th
I spun around in my chair, closing my eyes to the office around me. I generally enjoyed a good mental challenge, but attempting to recover the data from Haley’s phone was testing the limits of my patience. After almost two weeks of failed attempts, I was itching to smash the device with a hammer.
I stopped spinning and faced the phone, choosing to believe my latest attempt would be successful, because I was running out of ideas. The sophisticated hardware encryption offered by the iPhone was a blessing and a curse. The fact that Haley felt the need to wipe the phone encouraged me that it actually contained useful information, but I was trying not to get my hopes up.
When my computer displayed a message relaying incoming data, I fist pumped the air. A sense of relief and the satisfaction of accomplishment washed over me as I opened the file and looked through Haley’s phone contents. I scanned through the e-mail accounts linked to her phone but didn’t expect to find anything new considering we had already accessed them. The work account was available through our office server, and we discovered the personal account on the laptop she borrowed from Theo.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in her text message conversations. Apart from the guys, she only ever texted with Jessica, Kara, or Tyler. While there were a few fairly recent messages from Kara, nothing around the time of Haley’s departure seemed suspicious. I briefly considered skimming her conversations with Ethan, but he already confirmed that he didn’t know where she was. I certainly didn’t want, or need, to read her messages with the other guys, especially Liam, despite some curiosity.
Every time I thought about her with Liam, I felt a little sick. He was so charming and experienced, and I was anything but. All this time, I’d considered my kiss with Haley a perfect moment. Something I would do almost anything to repeat. But, what chance did I have against someone like Liam? Or any of the others?
Focus, Chase. Her photo library was full of happy images, and I lingered on the rare photos she had taken of herself—dressed as Lady Guinevere for the gala, wearing a navy party dress I had never seen and taken in a dressing room, and another in the dress she wore to the Christmas party; I forwarded my two favorites to my phone and then continued skimming. There were a few pictures of places or things, some of Penny and Jessica even, but her library was dominated by pictures of Knox, Theo, Jackson, Liam, Ethan, and me.
After reviewing her calendar, apps, and call log, I was beginning to wonder why she had felt the need to wipe the phone. I glanced through the contents once more and opened the voice memo app—there was a single recording, timestamped mid-April. I plugged in my headphones and pressed play.
It was mostly quiet apart from the muffled sound of birdsong. And maybe a fountain? Was she outside?
“Good afternoon, Haley,” a man’s voice said, and for a split second, I wondered if he was her dad. But, the speaker’s formal tone seemed odd, and I knew he couldn’t be her dad after he said, “Or should I call you Kira?”
Haley strongly denied it, but she must have been freaking out on the inside. I kept concentrating on the man’s voice—it sounded familiar, and I mentally urged him to reveal his identity. His patronizing tone grated on me, and I had an irrationally strong urge to punch him.
The man alluded to “his position” and told her he wanted to get in touch with her father. I was impressed with Haley’s persistent denials of her identity, even going so far as to claim that her father was dead. Why didn’t she tell any of us about this?
The more I heard, the more I suspected the man was none other than Gerald Douglas. His mention of the Zenith Youth event, as well as his knowledge that Zenith had been hired to find Taylor, confirmed my suspicions. The jackass, I thought, despising the fact that we helped him in the past and led him straight to Haley.
When she started crying, it about killed me. I wished I could hold her, protect her. My anger was rising, and then he threatened to release her identity if she didn’t help him. I slammed my fist on the desk. How dare he.
“Everything okay over there?” Jackson asked from his desk across the room.
“No,” I said through gritted teeth, pressing pause on the recording and pulling out my headphones. “You guys need to listen to this.”
After Knox, Theo, Jackson, and Liam gathered around my workstation, I restarted the recording without saying more; I wanted to see if they’d come to the same conclusions I had. They were silent, intent on hearing the recording. When we finally reached the part I had yet to hear, the conversation got even worse, if that was possible. Douglas gave Haley a May first deadline and had the nerve to threaten her if she told any of us about their conversation.
Is this why she left? The timing certainly made sense. Considering it was May eighth, I was hopeful that he hadn’t followed through on his threat to reveal her identity. When the recording ended, I turned and faced the others. Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms and awaited their reactions.
“What the fudge?” Theo said, a perplexed scowl on his face, while Knox looked downright murderous.
“Chase, have you run voice identification software to see if Douglas’s matches up with the speaker in Haley’s recording?” Jackson asked.
“No, I just finished listening to it, but I was about to do that and run internet searches on ‘Haley Jones’ and ‘Kira Taylor’ in case something slipped past our alerts.”
“Focus on the recording. Liam and Theo can run the searches,” he ordered.
While Liam, Theo, and I completed our tasks, I heard Jackson and Knox talking behind me in hushed voices.
“Did you know about this?” Jackson asked.
“No.” Knox sounded angry. “I thought she knew she could come to us, could trust us,” he said, the anger fading to hurt.
“No new hits on ‘Haley Jones,’” Liam called from across the room.
“None on ‘Kira Taylor’ either,” Theo added.
“Gerald Douglas is a match for the speaker in the recording,” I stated, confirming what we all already knew.
“Well, I guess now we know why she left,” Theo said, hanging his head. “Her ‘roommate with the tattoos’? I can’t believe he would sink so low as to threaten me to get to her. This is all my fault.”
“You’re forgetting that I have tattoos.” Knox nudged Theo. “And it’s not your fault. I wish Haley had told us about this, but we could’ve done a better job protecting her from Douglas in the first place. We never should have allowed her anywhere near him.”
“Fortunately, the rat bastard doesn’t appear to have followed through on his threat, at least for now. But he will pay for this,” Liam said forcefully, echoing all of our thoughts.
“Agreed. So what’s the plan?” Knox looked at Jackson.
“Let’s keep an eye on him and see what useful information we can find. Then we can decide what to do with it,” Jackson answered stonily.
Reading the underlying threat behind Jackson’s words, I was tempted to applaud. It wasn’t in my nature to seek revenge, but I couldn’t help the overwhelming surge of protectiveness that hit me as soon as I’d listened to the recording. We needed to find something “useful,” as Jackson put it, something that would take Douglas down for good.
Chapter 14: Haley
Tuesday, May 12th
“So, Brooke, what’s your story?”
Not grasping at first that Noah was speaking to me, I continued to scrub the counter before finally realizing my mistake and looking up. Get it together, Brooke, I told myself. Brooke, Brooke, Brooke.
“Sorry, what was that?” I asked as I casually leaned against the counter, trying to appear calm and confident.
“What’s your story, Miss Mysterious?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Me, mysterious? Not likely.” And not exactly true, though that was never how I thought of myself. “There’s not much to tell. I recently moved here from the Reno area and now I’m a barista.”
Since I didn’t want to come up with another tale about
my background, I had decided to stick with the one I previously used—wholly uninteresting girl from Nevada. Estranged parents. Homeschooled. Close enough to the truth that I didn’t feel too bad about lying.
“Nuh uh,” Noah scolded. “You’re not getting off that easy. There’s no way that a smart—and totally hot—girl like you doesn’t have more going on.”
I fought the blush threatening to creep up my neck. Objectively, I could admit that Noah was cute, though not really my type. He was a couple inches taller than me and skinny, with messy brown hair and a friendly-looking face. His style was what I was coming to recognize as fairly typical in Portland—skinny jeans with a cardigan or flannel shirt and boots, sometimes a beanie or glasses with thick plastic frames as accessories. A few tattoos were visible when he pushed up his sleeves, detracting from his otherwise boyish look.
As I studied him, I found myself wondering if it was even fair to say that I had a type, considering my feelings for six—well, five now—different guys. Was unbelievably good-looking and muscular my type? Annoyed at the turn of my thoughts, I pinched myself, like that might somehow deter me from thinking about . . . them.
“How do you know I’m smart?” I asked, hoping to distract Noah from his line of questioning.
“I’ve trained my share of new employees in the last couple of years, and you picked it all up faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, including experienced baristas. Not to mention how hard you work. If I’m not careful, you’ll steal my assistant manager position within a month.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, although I was pleased with his compliment.
“Boyfriend?” he asked, continuing his interrogation. Sighing at his persistence, I shook my head.
“Girlfriend, then,” he said hopefully. “Please, please say you have a girlfriend.”
Laughing softly, I said, “Sorry, but no.”
“Husband?” he asked with a horrified expression as he examined my hands like a wedding band might suddenly appear. I still wore my mom’s ring, but it remained on my right hand. “There has to be someone, because there is no way that you are single,” he said charmingly.
When I shrugged in response, Noah peered at my face as if he could see right through me. “Recent breakup,” he stated rather than questioned. “What I expected.”
No. Yes. Sort of. “How could you tell?” I finally asked, deciding that claiming a bad breakup might help deter him since he was giving off a definite interested vibe.
“I’m sorry to say it, Brooke, but you have an aura of sadness . . . I noticed it the first time you walked in here.”
I gasped. “I look sad?” It was true, but I didn’t realize it was that obvious to others. I smiled at customers and chatted with my co-workers. What else could I do?
“Not exactly, I’m just good at reading people.” He draped an arm around my shoulder in a friendly manner. “Don’t worry, after a few more weeks spent with me, you’ll forget all about your idiot ex.”
I found myself smiling at him despite the flirting. Noah was an easy guy to like and I could see us becoming friends. Only friends. Contemplating more with any guy was unthinkable, and I had a feeling it would continue that way for a long, long time.
Did Chase feel the same way about other girls? What about Liam? Considering the way girls flocked to him, it was ridiculous to expect him to wait around for me, especially since we never defined any kind of relationship. Still, I cringed at the thought of him kissing someone else . . . or more. Busying myself with work tasks, I attempted to push the idea far, far from my mind.
The rest of my shift passed quickly, and before I knew it, I was riding back to my rental on the used bike I’d purchased the week before. Although I wasn’t particularly worried about my safety, walking city streets alone was new for me, and biking at least got me to my destination faster. I had started carrying pepper spray as well, just in case.
Back at the guest house—I couldn’t bring myself to refer to it as home—I took a shower, then stood in front of the closet, staring at my meager wardrobe. In addition to the few pieces I brought with me, I’d added an array of jeans, casual tops, workout shorts, and tees that I’d picked up at a nearby thrift store. They weren’t as tailored as my usual choices, but I wanted to fit in at work and decided not to spend much money on clothes for a while.
After throwing on a clean pair of jeans with a T-shirt, I sat down on the couch with my new, inexpensive laptop. Pulling up Google, I searched for “Haley Jones” and “Kira Taylor” as I had once a day for the last twelve days. When I didn’t see any new results, I exhaled in relief. It seemed that Douglas hadn’t followed through on his threat when I failed to meet his deadline . . . so far. Did he realize that I left Santa Cruz? My instinct said yes, which led to my next question—was he now looking for me?
I logged into the e-mail address I created in San Francisco and wasn’t surprised to find that I hadn’t received any messages from my dad. Though I knew it was unlikely he would visit the safe deposit box and find the paper I’d left with the address, part of me held out hope that I would hear from him sooner rather than later.
Knowing that Jessica was probably frantic after the short e-mail I sent her before leaving the loft, I typed out a brief message to her. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, but it wasn’t the right time. I needed to find a more secure way to talk to her, preferably by phone.
Dear Caroline,
I don’t know if anyone has contacted you about me, but if they haven’t, I’m guessing they will, and I don’t want you to have to lie for me. Because of that, I can’t tell you where I am. I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I promise that I’m safe and will tell you more when I can.
Don’t worry about me.
Love,
Elena
After hitting “send,” I closed the laptop and lay down on the couch. Evenings when I didn’t work were the worst. Since I wasn’t fond of wandering around Portland in the dark, my options for entertainment were limited. I had already decided that my next major purchase would be an e-reader since there wasn’t a library nearby. Until then, I would have to rely on my computer and guitar to keep my nights from dragging endlessly.
When I was honest with myself, I knew that all I really wanted to do was wallow in self-pity anyway. Remembering what Noah said about my “aura of sadness,” I knew he was right. I had stayed busy and distracted enough to keep from succumbing to the heartache. But, I was barely hanging on, and I found myself embracing my weakness as much as I despised it. After everything, wasn’t I entitled to a few weeks, or months, of melancholy?
Chapter 15: Knox
Wednesday, May 13th
The weather in Portland was dreary when Jackson and I landed, not that I was surprised. How did people live in the Pacific Northwest? Most often cold and rainy, it was downright depressing. I had only been there an hour and was already struggling to imagine Haley living there. She needed sunshine and ocean views for her daily runs, not this gloomy city landscape.
With the hand not on the steering wheel of the rental SUV, I dug my thumb into my temple to temporarily relieve some of the pressure clustered there. The two-and-a-half weeks since Theo and I searched Haley’s room and discovered she was gone had been the most stressful of my life. Which, with my past, was saying something.
I knew I should have felt relieved that we located Haley, but I wouldn’t be able to relax until I saw her beautiful face with my own eyes. At this point, we had only managed to track her to an address in the outskirts of Portland. After she sent Jessica a short e-mail yesterday, Chase and Jax did their tracking and hacking magic and were able to identify the IP address and connect it to the service provider and then the account holder’s name and address. Thank god for her friendship with Jessica. If not for that connection, who knew how long it would have taken to find Haley.
The name on the account was a woman named Helen Campbell, which was confusing until we pulled the house up on Google Earth and reali
zed there was a small guest house on the property. Smart girl. Haley didn’t go the obvious route and attempt to rent an apartment; she found an older woman, probably not an overly distrustful one, to rent to her without an in-depth background check.
I immediately stated—not asked—that I would fly up to check on Haley and set up security surveillance. And, that led to another fight, one of who-knew-how-many in the last few weeks. Theo and Liam insisted that we should just go pluck her away and bring her home. And, if we’d uncovered her location a week ago, I would have agreed. But, with the discovery of Douglas’s threats, we needed to be strategic. If we brought Haley back now, we’d be putting her right back in that bastard’s line of sight.
For now, we were concentrating on developing a more thorough plan to take him down. We bugged his office phone and hacked into his e-mail accounts, and Theo was spending every spare minute pouring over the data coming in.
We discussed approaching Haley and making her part of our plan, but we weren’t willing to risk her running again. At least this way—assuming she was still in the area—we could keep an eye on her, if only from afar. Knowing Haley, she’d be pissed when she found out we were spying on her, but I didn’t fucking care. Nothing was as important as keeping her safe, even if she never spoke to us again.
“You should let me stay up here full time,” I told Jax, arguing—not for the first time—that long distance surveillance wasn’t sufficient. “If something happens, we’re too far away.” A one-and-a-half-hour flight was not going to cut it.
“It’s not an option,” Jax said shortly. “The team is barely hanging on as it is. We can’t afford for one of us to be absent all the time.”
Anger overtook me, and I gripped the steering wheel, wishing I could hit him. “So, the team is more important to you than Haley,” I spat out.
“Don’t twist my words, Knox. There’s no reason to think that Haley is in any particular danger in Portland under her new assumed name. It would be more suspicious to Douglas if one of us disappeared as well. We need him to believe we don’t know where Haley is and have no idea that he even approached her.”
