Page 84 of Wicked and Claimed

The poor girl sounded young and panicked. Haisley wasn’t sure she still had a job since her boss was now dead. And who owned the mall now that he was gone? But if the investigation into the disappearances of the five missing women was going to continue, she had to run interference and buy them some time.

But this conversation brought up a possibility Haisley hadn’t considered… If Mr. Benedict was guilty of masterminding the trafficking ring, was he dead because Mila had discovered his crimes and he’d shut her up? That seemed possible. And if Haisley and Nash were ever going to find his victims, they had to pinpoint every clue possible before the police came in and took Benedict’s phone, computer, and personal effects.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Haisley told Julia. “Don’t say anything to the reporters on the record. Just find a place to hold a press conference inside the mall before it opens. I’ll be there no later than eight.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I didn’t know who else to turn to and…”

“You did the right thing, calling me.”

Haisley rang off. Her hands shook as she typed out a quick text to Nash.

OMG, Benedict is dead. Murder-suicide suspected. Social media is exploding. I’m off to the mall to handle press.

His reply came moments later:

I just read about the incident. Be careful. I have bad vibes about this. All Trees and I have managed to get from the burner phone so far is proof Benedict was having an affair. I’ll update you when we know more.

As texts went, it wasn’t romantic, but that was hardly the point now. He was working, just like she was. They’d talk about them later.

Haisley hurriedly dressed, covering her love bites with a high-necked blouse, then rushed to the bathroom. Her reflection startled her. Nash had sweetly washed her hair last night and tucked her in with wet tresses. Now it was a tangled mess, half sticking straight up. She quickly ran a brush through it, wincing at the knots, before twisting it up into a messy bun. Then she slapped on a light face of makeup, focusing on a hasty application of concealer, mascara, and lip gloss. It would have to do.

As she did all that, Haisley tried to think this situation through. Benedict had been having an affair? Mind-blowing. She couldn’t grasp why anyone would willingly sleep with the jackass. Then again, some people would do anything for money, which he’d had in spades. Had Mila found out about his mistress last night? Was that the reason she’d been crying during her midnight visit to the office? Had it caused their following deadly altercation?

That poor woman, offed by the man who had vowed to love, honor, and cherish her forever. Love might only be for the lucky few, but Mila had been among the most unlucky of all.

Haisley sprinted around the house to find her keys. As she brewed a cup of coffee to go, she fired off a message to her fellow CSI sleuth, Jasper, informing him about the awful developments and asked if he would reach out to his Lafayette PD contacts for any additional information.

He didn’t answer right away. Of course anyone who wasn’t up with the sun was still cozy in their bed, catching Zs. But Jasper seemed solid. He’d get back to her. At least she hoped so. She hadn’t talked to him since Tuesday night. She’d been so busy…and wrapped up with Nash. Maybe Jasper had lost interest in the case. Or moved on.

After all, he hadn’t contacted her for nearly four days, either. What was up with that?

Pushing the question aside, Haisley took a deep breath, forcing herself to compartmentalize her feelings and fears so she could focus on the task at hand. She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. The women who had been abducted needed her effort and focus before bureaucracy and red tape limited her access to clues.

After finally digging up her keys, Haisley headed for the door, pausing to take one last steadying breath. As she drove to the mall, her mind kept whirling. What could she possibly tell the press about the Benedicts’ untimely end and the fate of the mall when she knew so little herself?

As she pulled into the parking lot, Haisley spotted a small crowd of reporters, photographers, and independent online journalists already gathered near the door. She gripped the steering wheel, steeling herself for the morning ahead. “You can do this.”

She wasn’t convinced…but it was nearly showtime, so she cut the engine and plucked up her phone, cutting off her music.

Before she darkened the device, she spotted a notification about a message from someone in her CSI group.

JasperThePrivateDick: Howdy, stranger. I hope you’re okay. I’ve been a little under the weather. Sorry I disappeared. Feeling better today. I’ll call my retired friend and see if he can get anyone who still works for the force to answer questions.

RedHotSavvySleuth: Glad to hear you’re feeling better. Thanks for any help you can give me. I’m at the mall now. I’m about to give a press conference. After that, I’ll poke around and see if I can find out anything. Maybe people will be more willing to talk now that Mr. Benedict is gone.

JasperThePrivateDick: I don’t think that’s a good idea. That place is dangerous.

RedHotSavvySleuth: It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you later, but all signs point to my boss having been the bad guy. Now that he’s gone, I’m thinking the mall is a lot less dangerous. But I promise I’ll check in.

JasperThePrivateDick: I’ll be waiting. If I don’t hear from you in two hours, I’ll send in the cavalry.

RedHotSavvySleuth: You don’t have to, but thanks for caring enough to worry about me.

Haisley smiled as she dimmed her phone and exited her car, striding toward the mall with purpose. She ignored the cluster of press shouting questions at her.

Inside the entrance, she found Julia pacing nervously. “Ms. Rowe?”

“Just Haisley.” She gave the young brunette a reassuring smile, but the girl still looked rattled.

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