“Yes. We do. But not like that. Now, do you want to hear what I found out?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing.”
“What? Whattya mean nothin’?”
Nothing was a response I’d ever heard from his mouth.
“You heard me. Nothing. I even reached out to someone I trust from the old days. Nothing. And if I can’t find it and Tavish can’t find it…”
“It can’t be found.”
“No. Not can’t be found. It doesn’t fucking exist, cowboy. At least not with the info we have.”
“Are you saying she’s making it up?”
“Not at all. He attacked her in Jersey. I found some camera footage, but the angles are all wrong.”
“So, facial rec is a no-go, I take it?”
“Yeah, but I tried anyway. No jolly. The info she gave the police in Jersey is spot on, though, for height and weight. We’re just missing a critical piece of the puzzle, and until we can find it, the guy’s a ghost.”
I sighed, groaning as I scrubbed my free hand over my face into my hair. “Where do we go from here?”
“I can start running employees, band members, road crew, everyone, and anyone.”
“I’m sure her dad has done that already.”
“You wanna risk Jackie’s life on that assumption?”
“No, but give me a bit, and I’ll get back to you with a list of names. As for you, start running the people at the record label.”
“On it.”
The call ended before I could respond, and I made my way back inside.
7
HAYDEN
“Alright, let’s get to work. I’m tired of running from this jerk.”
The melodic tones of a woman’s voice called from the stairs. I turned, and the adult version of the girl I’d last seen a decade prior appeared. Katie Carter had been a budding knockout at fourteen to my seventeen-year-old eyes, but the woman who walked into the living room was jaw-droppingly stunning. Long dark hair, chocolate colored eyes, a round ass, and thick thighs—all things that would’ve usually made my dick stand up and take notice.
But there were two issues.
Declan, who held the spot as the only person to make my dick do anything since I met him, and the pretty little thing standing in the corner who’d slid into the space next to him as if she belonged there.
Fuck! Strike that. Make it three issues.
Katie stopped next to a man who gazed at her like the sun and moon shone out her ass—a man I recognized.
Or somewhat recognized. Maybe. I couldn’t get a good enough look.
Was it Jackson or Declan?
Either way, he was a motherfucking Holt. Life couldn’t get much worse. I was either being brought face-to-face with the kid that Mara fucked over all those years ago or my estranged husband was making an appearance to upend my life yet again.
