Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) (15 page)

“I think that’s an understatement. Who’s Ryan, the president’s son?” Deacon asked sarcastically.

“No, he’s the head of the Lexington FBI office. And Sienna is a sports psychologist who works for the NFL’s Lexington Thoroughbreds. Her father, Will Ashton, and Zain’s father own the team. And her mother, Kenna, is the local prosecutor,” Sydney explained in whispers as they walked toward the table.

“And Nash?”

Sydney just shrugged. “Nash is a badass and doesn’t mind going outside the law if it’s for a just cause. Diplomatic immunity has its perks.”

Deacon pulled out Sydney’s chair and then took a seat between her and Ryan. Sydney filled them in on Bailey’s disappearance, Vic’s assault of her, and then turned it over for Deacon to tell them what he found at the shipping yard.

The table was quiet for a moment. Then Sienna spoke up. “The championship game. That’s where you think she is.”

“That’s right. But as both the photographer, Patrick, and the designer, Teddy, pointed out, it’s a sold-out game with exclusive parties,” Deacon said.

Everyone at the table just smiled. “We have more tickets to the game than we could ever use. Between our fathers, that’s easy,” Sienna laughed as she pointed to Zain.

“I can get you into any political party,” Zain told him with a shrug. “I can easily believe some of those men would sink to that level.”

“You don’t need help getting into the other parties,” Wyatt said as if it were obvious.

“I don’t?” Deacon asked.

Nash shook his head and pointed to Sydney. “You have her. No one will turn away a supermodel.”

“I’m not a supermodel anymore, Nash. I’m retired. No one cares except on the business front,” Sydney said with frustration.

Nash took out his phone. He typed something quickly and then smiled. “Not anymore. One of the gossip sites just got a tip that Sydney Davies is coming out of retirement and unveiling a new look at the football game.”

Deacon saw Sydney’s eyes grow wide. “I’m nowhere near model-ready! How am I going to lose thirty pounds and get a new look in two days?”

“You don’t need to lose a single pound. You’re stunning,” Deacon said instantly.

Wyatt looked quickly at him and then took his sister’s hand. “As much as I hate to agree with your
boyfriend,
I do. You’re beautiful just the way you are.”

“But—” Syd started.

“May I make a suggestion and not be attacked by your brother and your boyfriend?” Nash asked casually as if he weren’t really concerned about it. “You’ve put weight on in all the right places. I would suggest a less-is-more theory when picking your wardrobe. You’ll get in everywhere and keep them distracted while Deacon and I work.”

Deacon bit back his snarl. He didn’t like the way Nash’s eyes went to Sydney’s generous breasts. Those were his. “Wait, while you and I work?”

“Yes. As Zain said, we could be looking at a very large ring spanning both the political and entertainment worlds. Syd knows the entertainers. I know the politicians. Plus it’s always good to have someone on hand with diplomatic immunity.”

“And I can contact the local FBI and alert them to your presence,” Ryan told him. “I’ll have them reach out to that detective of yours for the case file. Everyone will be on the same page and will be looking for Bailey and her handlers. You know they will be close by, controlling their girls. They’re the ones we must get our hands on.”

Deacon looked around the table at Sydney’s friends and family. “This is a good plan. Thank you all for helping.”

“Of course, you’re one of us now.” Sienna smiled at him.

Wyatt grunted under his breath, “We’ll see about that.”

“Now that’s taken care of, I have a couple questions for you,” Zain said with a mischievous grin.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sydney tried not to blush when Sienna gave her the thumbs-ups sign before fanning herself as the group left the café. Ryan stopped his wife and kissed her so passionately that it was Syd’s turn to blush.

“I’ll have to find other men attractive more often,” Sydney heard Sienna tease as she and Ryan got in their car.

Sydney shook her head and then looped her hand through Deacon’s arm. He had held up well. Her father had pointed a gun at him, her brother had punched him, and her friends had interrogated him. If he didn’t run screaming from the Davies monthly family dinner tomorrow night, he might just be the one.

“So, what’s next?” Deacon asked as they strolled down Main Street in the cold February air. The sun was bright and warmed her through as they walked.

“I need to stop at Aunt Paige’s shop. She’s Ryan’s mom and owns Southern Charms right down there.” Sydney pointed to the shop at the end of Main Street. “I need to see if she has fabric for my new look. My phone has been vibrating nonstop since that gossip site picked up the news of my supposed return.”

“What are you going to do?” Deacon asked as he pulled her against his side.

“I’m thinking something inspired by my great-grandmother. And that requires one hell of a hat. And I just so happen to know a woman who can make one for me. As for all the phone calls—that’s what voicemail is for. I’m going to be unreachable. I may post something on social media about the game just to fuel the fires.”

“Hey, Deacon!” Sydney turned her head to see Nash pulling to a stop next to them. “Want to come back to the farm and see what we can find out about Vic and the others you mentioned?”

Deacon looked to her first, and Sydney gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m going shopping.” The pained look on Deacon’s face made her giggle.

“I don’t like leaving you alone while this is going on. I worry about Vic coming back,” Deacon confessed.

“I know, but I promise to go straight home from Paige’s.”

“Text me to let me know you’re safe,” Deacon said before lowering his head for a kiss. The warmth of his lips on hers was a sharp contrast to the blistering cold air blowing across them. And when Deacon pulled away, the heat lingered as a memory, even after he’d disappeared from sight.

Sydney pushed open the door to the cute shop on the end of Main Street. Paige Davies was a renowned Derby hat designer, but she also stocked some of her own clothing designs as well as Sydney’s. Her aunt sat behind the counter. Her light-brown hair had turned a lighter shade as she got older, but the Davies hazel eyes still shone bright as she worked on a tiny hat that could fit a baby.

“What are you working on?” Sydney asked as Paige looked up. She quickly hid the hat under the counter and smiled innocently at her.

“Nothing! It’s good to see you again. Come give me a hug,” Paige ordered as she looked behind Sydney. “Where’s the boyfriend? Katelyn told me all about him. I hoped I could meet him before he fled the family dinner in terror like your other boyfriends have.”

“Seriously, couldn’t you go easy on him for once? Is it any wonder none of us cousins bring dates anymore. I mean, Uncle Miles made Layne’s date cry, and that was nothing compared to what Uncle Cy did to Reagan’s date.”

Paige smiled serenely and patted Syd’s arm. “Honey, if they break after just a couple itsy-bitsy minutes with us, then are they really husband material? We do it out of love. Now, what can I do for you today? It this about you coming out of retirement?”

Sydney’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You already know about that?”

“Oh, it’s gone viral. Everyone wants to know what your new look is.”

“That’s what I want your help with. I need some material and a new hat. Great-grandma Wyatt has inspired me. I want an all-white outfit with her shocking red lipstick. I want simple, elegant, and sexy. Do you have any material that fits that?”

Paige nodded and headed for the back of the shop. “I have a beautiful laser-cut silk. It cost a fortune, but it’s stunning. It’s sheer where it’s been laser-cut.”

Paige held up the fabric, and Sydney drew in her breath. It was perfect. Edgy and sophisticated at the same time. “Can you make a hat to match?”

Paige took in Sydney’s hair, face, and the silk. “I’d stick with white. Are you going for 'look at me' or something more subtle?”

“Subtle, but still a statement.”

“I have an idea. It will highlight the red lips. I can have it finished in two days. Is that soon enough?”

Sydney hugged her aunt. “That’s perfect. I don’t know if we are leaving that night or the next day yet. Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you, hon.”

“Anything?” Sydney tested. “How about going easy on Deacon tomorrow. It’s not just the guys who are bad. Jackson’s last date ran from dinner after you had a little girl talk with her.”

Paige smiled with satisfaction. “She was all wrong for my boy. Jackson is an FBI hostage rescuer. He’s a tough man and needs a tough woman who won’t just roll over and do whatever he says. A little challenge is good for my boys. Sienna certainly doesn’t give in to whatever Ryan says, and look how happy they are. And if I remember correctly, you were also there and asked if she had any intention of trying to change your cousin. I only stepped in when she mentioned his job was too dangerous.”

Paige may have a point, but terrorizing said dates was not the best way to go about it now that she had a serious date of her own. So far, only Sienna had survived. But that wasn’t a good example since she’d been coming to Davies family gatherings her whole life, and everyone already considered her part of the family.

Sydney paid for the fabric, thanked Paige again, and headed for home. She hadn’t meant to stay out so long. She turned down her driveway and pulled into the garage. Sydney picked up the material for her new outfit, headed inside, and froze. It was quiet. There were no little puppy howls coming from Robyn’s crate near the back door. There also wasn’t the sound of snoring. The little wrinkly pup could wake the dead with her snores.

Sydney set down the material and raced to the sunroom where Robyn’s crate was. The door was open, and the crate was empty. Oh no, not again! Robyn was a little Houdini. Of course, Robyn’s great-great-grandfather was Bob, Sydney's childhood dog, and he could climb trees. It was no wonder a simple thing such as a locked cage couldn’t hold Robyn.

“No, no, no,” Sydney chanted as she raced upstairs to her bedroom. “Don’t do it! Robyn, I’m sending you to obedience school if you’re eating my Pradas!”

Sydney rushed into her room, and there in the middle of her bed was the cute puppy with her ears perked, her head tilted, and one former silver strappy high-heeled Prada hanging from her mouth.

“How did you . . .?” Sydney sputtered. “That shoe was in a box a good five feet up in my closet.”

Robyn didn’t answer. She just stared back with a look that conveyed exactly what she thought of Sydney’s attempts to hide her Pradas from her.

“I warned you. I’m calling Bridget.” Robyn’s ears went down, and she dropped the shoe. She rolled over onto her back, her lips falling into a sweet smile as she thumped her tail on the bed. “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of it by being cute.”

Sydney pulled out her phone and sent a text to Bridget Mueez. She trained police and military dogs for a living. And she had known Bob. Her husband, Ahmed, the retired head of security and all-around badass for Mo and Dani, had been afraid of Bob. He had said the dog knew too many secrets. And Robyn was turning out to be just like him. Except she didn’t climb trees. She climbed shoe shelves.

Her phone pinged and Sydney smiled. “Someone starts school tomorrow.”

Robyn narrowed her eyes and peed on the bed.

*     *     *

Deacon looked in contemplation at the three large screens that lined a wall of the security room at Desert Sun Farm. He hadn’t met the prince and princess but had met Nabi, the current head of security for Dani and Mo. Deacon thought it was pretty cool that royalty were so down to earth, and he couldn’t believe how helpful Nash and Nabi were. Nabi was older than he was, probably around forty-five. His dark hair had a few strands of gray, but that was the only tell. He still looked like he could take a man down without blinking.

Nash was checking with his underground contacts to see if they had heard of Tristan Models or a man named Vic who worked for them. Nabi had pulled up all he could on the model Emily Tamlin, the photographer Patrick Mawler, and the designer, Teddy Brown. They were the images Deacon was reviewing.

“Emily told Sydney she was out of the country for the next few weeks,” Deacon told Nabi as his fingers flew over the keyboard pulling up pictures and information on the model.

Nash hung up his cell and headed over to another computer. He typed in some commands and the picture of Patrick Mawler shrank and an itinerary popped up. “These are the parties Mawler is going to Sunday. I had no problem securing invitations for Sydney. You and I are acting as her security. The bigger you are, the more security you have. Do you have a black suit?”

“I do. What about Brown, the designer? Is he going to these same parties?” Deacon asked.

Nash hit a couple more keys and Brown’s itinerary came up. “Mostly. However, he has these two that Mawler isn’t going to. I’ve secured invites to those as well. Further, Zain has talked to his contacts. Here are the ‘it’ parties to be at if you’re young and famous. Most of them are after the game, while almost all of the others are within the football stadium in private rooms and suites. And here are the political parties—you know, the exact opposite of the ‘it’ parties. These are mostly before the game at nearby hotels.”

Deacon chuckled. Sydney had some great friends. He’d been in Keeneston for such a short time, but he felt as if these people were his own friends already. They were more honest and open than any of the people he had grown up with in Atlanta.

“The invites to the political parties took a little more finesse to get. Zain’s executive assistant called and got us into those,” Nash told him as the center screen turned into one long list of parties.

“How are we going to make it to all these parties in one night?” Deacon asked.

“You stay no more than ten to twenty minutes at each party,” Nabi said as he took in the list. “I would say you could cut out the ‘it’ parties afterward, but nowadays the young are just as likely to hire a prostitute or buy a girl as the older crowd. It used to be about power, but now it’s just about ego. They think it shows off how much money they have. With social media and the Internet, anyone can lure a girl to them. Sadly, it’s a growing market.”

“Okay, so we have three days to learn everything we can about these three people, all those parties, and who is hosting them.” Deacon crossed his arms and looked at the screens. It was a needle in a haystack. “Have you learned anything about Vic?”

Nash shook his head. “Not yet, but I have my feelers out. By tomorrow I’ll have heard something.”

“And I’ll put a couple of guys from my team on it as well,” Nabi told them. “They can get you a handbook with pictures and event details. It will help when you’re searching the parties.”

“That would be great. Thank you both for all your help,” Deacon said sincerely. “I’m going to see what I can find in the public forums. There’s a staggering amount of ads for the sale of women and children right out in the open.”

Nabi nodded. “I’ll check the dark web. I’ll see what’s being talked about outside the reach of everyday people.”

“Sounds like we all have work to do tonight. Let’s meet back here tomorrow after breakfast and see if we’ve found anything that will help us,” Nash said as he grabbed his car keys. “I’ll give you a lift home, Deacon.”

“Thanks.” He smiled. He didn’t bother to correct him that Sydney’s home wasn’t his. He was already beginning to feel like part of the town and a part of Syd’s life.

Deacon opened the door as he and Nash headed out of the building. The sun was out, and the horses were running and playing in the pastures around him. There were Derby winners, colts, and fillies for as far as he could see.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Nash asked as they approached his car.

“Very.”

“People have a tendency to come for a visit and stay. Both Nabi and I were only supposed to be on temporary assignment here, and well, you can see we’ve asked the king if we could stay longer. It’s a special place.”

Deacon slid into the car and looked at the man driving it. “I’m glad the king has agreed to let you stay. You’re a good friend to Sydney.”

“She’s a wonderful lady. But alas, my king hasn’t agreed to allow me to stay forever. I must return home soon.”

“Why?” Deacon asked.

Nash gave a humorless laugh. “I’ve been trained too well by Ahmed and Nabi. I am now indispensible as an operative, and it’s time for me to return to serve my country.”