Page 32 of Lure

“I saw that too,” I murmured. “She didn’t have any idea about her agent.”

“Before you three lose your collective shit,” Bones said, folding his arms. “I needed to be sure. Too many things aren’t adding up. I spent the night on the phone with Fletcher and Cash.” The two men were part of the committee overseeing the Network these days. Not that committee was the right word for them.

“What did they say?” I managed to pull my gaze from Grace to find Bones studying her with the same concern in his expression that rippled through my gut.

“That my gut is right,” Bones said with a shrug. “I asked a lot of questions without mentioning Grace directly, they confirmed that these operations are far bigger than a model and her attorney sister. Traffickers typically avoid taking people who are connected. Granted, they were trying to get her out of the country, so that gives them more options.”

“But how does an attorney get on that radar?” Voodoo may have asked the question but we were all thinking it.

“They are identical twins,” I answered. It kept coming back to that, right. “That’s the only angle that makes sense. Grace is out there, there’s literally gigabytes of her photographs out there?—”

“You said something about yachting?” Lunchbox folded his arms where he stood like a guardian hovering over Grace and Voodoo. Not that Voodoo had surrendered his spot. He was on one knee next to her with his fingers against her pulse.

His concern hadn’t shifted or turned graver, so I could hope that she would open those eyes again soon.

“Apparently, there’s a lot of money in models and actors—aspiring or otherwise—are invited to their private yachts for sex, drugs, and rock and roll.” I grimaced. “I’ve been digging down on it. Most of the information is only found through rumors and innuendo, go figure, they call ityachtingcause it’s basically dressing up escorts in jewels and furs so you can take them home to Mom without judgment.”

The doubting looks on all three of them would be funny if it weren’t so serious.

With a shrug, I spread my hands and then dropped one to stroke Goblin’s head. He was still focused on Grace and I could practically feel the concern shimmering around him.

“So, they basically hire them out like whores?” Lunchbox frowned. “How the hell do you hire a model to be a whore?”

“Her agent?” Yes, the woman was dead now. So had she known something that could point people in the right direction? I hadn’t finished pulling the background on anyone around her. I was working out from the center—I needed a wider scatter shot.

“Cash suggested that a lot of agents can be looped in to arrange introductions, even to broach possible invitations with the clients. The upside is a cut of the money and these people can afford to do whatever they want with whomever they want.” Bones shook his head. “It’s another form of networking.”

Lunchbox scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced at Grace. “So… what? They are hired to go be pretty arm candy andentertain some wealthy fat fuck? Do they get extra if they fuck him or his friends?”

“Probably. Whether they are paid directly or not, these are wealthy men who like to be seen with beautiful women and to be appreciated by them. It can secure funding for a film or a company or an idea. So what is a few hundred thousand to invest in a project? Or get a business opportunity off the ground?”

Hate swelled through me at the idea. We were all whores after a fashion. We did what we were asked to do and took payment for it. Now? We used the skills we’d gained and put them to work for us, but we still took money. If not cash, then we worked on an exchange for influence and favors.

“The problem with all of this,” I said as I tried to make the various puzzle pieces fit into the picture we’d been trying to fill in. “What would yachting have to do with the people trying to take her? That group the Vandals found her with was heading south. Toward Mexico? South America? A port so they could ship them to Asia? The Middle East? The middle of nowhere? We don’t have that information. The others on that truck were not the looker she is nor wereanyof them influential or recognizable.”

Because that was another key. Grace Black may not be a household name, but she had a verywell-knownface. I hadn’t been able to place her, not at first. Lunchbox had though, and at some point, I needed to give him shit for being dialed in that tight to not only recognize her, but knew enough to name her.

“They weren’t the first people to take her,” Voodoo said into the blanket of silence that fell after my question. “It’s not just one group.”

That gave me food for thought. “Fact,” I said, holding up one finger. “She was taken outside of her sister’s place. Fact, she woke up somewhere there were multiple other prisoners?—”

“Did she say if there were men and children too, or only women?” Good question from Bones.

“She didn’t want to discuss it at all.” A detail here or there slipped out, but she’d been guarding herself and who could blame her? Certainly not me. I raised a third finger. “Fact, the first group that took her suffered a raid. During that raid, Gracie was taken from the first group and woke up on the truck.”

I wanted the names of these groups. I didn’t like nebulous vague fucking details.

“Fact,” Lunchbox said. “There arenoreports that Grace Black is missing.”

“Fact,” Bones added. “There is none about her sister either, except that her law office is telling everyone she no longer works there. They can’t believe something is wrong or there would be reports. Even a thin FBI file to indicate suspected kidnapping.”

Yeah. FBI and Homeland handled a lot of human trafficking. Particularly since it went across state and national lines.

“Cash verified there are no hidden reports being buried currently?” If they had an open investigation, the last thing they’d want to do is loop in the public, even accidentally.

“As far as he can tell. Fletcher said he’d deep dive the Feds to make sure there isn’t something hidden. Right now, however, what open investigations they have don’t appear related.”

I snorted.

---