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“I have to find her. Is her phone not working?” Up ahead in the distance, Kitten’s petite form came into view. She walked across the grass toward the spa.

Logan ran in behind her, reaching for the phone. “I am going to blister your sister’s backside. Do you understand me? I don’t care that she’s your blood. She’s gone too far. Georgia seems to think everyone she meets is a goddamn millionaire and that they can replace anything.”

He didn’t have time to deal with Georgia’s damage. “Tate Evans is the man who tried to buy Natalie back when she was kidnapped. As far as I can tell, he’s likely been stalking her for months. I think he’s managed to set up another slavery ring here in Willow Fork, probably run by drug money.”

“Holy shit. You’re talking about that Dom who works here? The blond one?” Logan stopped, reaching a hand out for Kitten.

Ben screamed into the parking space, barely missing the car next to them. He slammed the car in park and was out of the driver’s side door before Chase could reply. “Natalie!”

Logan switched off the phone. “She and Georgia went inside to clean out her locker. What’s wrong? They’ve been inside for like ten minutes, tops.”

She’d been out of Logan’s sight for ten minutes? A lot could happen in ten minutes. The world could fucking fall down in ten minutes.

Chase took off, his brother at his side. Ben kept pace as they sprinted through the spa’s double doors.

Chase stopped, the spa’s aroma washing over him. Lavender. The whole place was done in dark wood and peaceful tones of green and blue. But god, that pan flute music needed to go.

“Where’s the receptionist?” Ben asked, looking around. “Shouldn’t someone be manning the desk?”

Logan and Kitten walked in as Ben glanced around the space. Chase had walked through once a few days before, but he remembered where everything was. The locker room was through the west hall, three doors down and on the right. Natalie’s personal locker was number ten.

“I believe I found the receptionist, Master Chase.” Kitten’s voice shook slightly. Her eyes were wide as she stepped out of the room titled the “Relaxation Suite.” “She’s in here.”

“Ask her where Natalie is,” Ben said.

But Chase could read Kitten’s fear so easily. “She can’t. She’s dead.”

Logan cursed and walked through the door.

Chase stopped and closed his eyes, trying to see the lobby the way it had been the last time he’d seen it. He pulled the memory out of his head and then looked around, catching everything that had changed. “The computer is missing. The phone is in the wrong place.”

Ben held up a phone cord. “Someone unplugged it.”

Logan’s face told the tale as he walked back into the lobby. “I have one dead body. The receptionist. She had on a name tag. Melissa. It’s dark in there, but if I had to guess she was strangled. It looks like someone got interrupted.”

By Natalie.

Ben held a small washcloth up. “Is this what I think it is? Is this chloroform?”

“Don’t sniff it.” Chase’s stomach churned. Tate had been here. He’d killed the receptionist and taken Natalie.

“Georgia?” Logan’s face went white. His fists clenched at his sides as he started to walk through the hall. “Georgia! Goddamn it, I swear I’ll kill you if you’re dead.”

“Stop it, Logan.” Georgia wasn’t dead. Tate wouldn’t waste her that way. The receptionist was in her late forties and plain-faced. Georgia would be worth a lot on the open market. “He won’t kill her. He’d rather sell her.”

“I’ll kill that fucker. I swear to god, I will kill him,” Logan vowed.

Kitten bit back a cry, her shoulders slumping. “Kitten doesn’t want to go back. Kitten will not go back.”

Logan stopped as though realizing he couldn’t afford for Kitten to freak out. “I’ll take you back to the ranch, Kitten. I’ll make sure you’re safe, but I have to look for her. You understand?”

Tears coursed down Kitten’s face. She held Logan’s hand, but she took a long breath as she looked to Chase. “He has Natalie. Do you think Gretchen was involved? She talked about this man, this Tate, as though he was her Master. Gretchen is wrong. I mean there is something wrong with her. I think sometimes she misses Hawk. I know I’m screwed up, Master Chase. I know I’m wrong, too, but I do not miss him. I thank the heavens every single day that Natalie was strong enough to kill him.”

Ben was on the phone, calling the sheriff, but it would be useless. The local police were worthless.

“I think Gretchen is helping Tate. Kitten, if you know anything, now is the time to tell me. Natalie is at risk. Natalie could be hurt right now.” Chase’s brain swam with the possibilities.

Kitten took a long breath. “I don’t know. I will think about it. We should search Gretchen’s room. Do you want Kitt…me to go look? I can find someone who will let me in. I can do it on my own, Master Chase. I can handle it. I can do it for Natalie.”

Anything would help. “Look for a journal or a day planner. I need to know where she’s been lately. Go and ask Gaby to have her husband help you. Not because you can’t do it, Kitten. You can. I would just prefer every female in our group had an escort for now. Logan, please go and check every room in the place. We have to make sure she’s not here.”

Logan took off, Kitten started running toward the main resort, but Ben was suddenly at his side, his face an ashen gray. “She was in the white van, wasn’t she?”

The van they had passed on the road had been speeding down the lane. And now that he really considered that single moment, he rather thought it had been Gretchen driving the van. He could see her. Her hair had been pulled back into a trucker cap, but it could easily have been her. He’d been distracted, trying to contact Natalie. He hadn’t really looked at her. Hadn’t considered the possibilities.

He had to calm down. Natalie needed him icy cold, not hot with worry.

“Slow down, Chase. I need you. She needs you. This is what you do.” Ben’s voice was steady, his calm presence the anchor that steadied him. “He won’t kill her. He wants her. He’s got to take her somewhere. He’s going to sell Georgia and likely the other missing girls. There have been two who’ve gone missing in the last four months. He’s held them somewhere. He’s trained them. He’s going to make his profit.”

Hannah Wells and Michelle Nelson. Barnes had shown him pictures. Young women in their early twenties, both from dirt-poor families, and both had had trouble with the law. They were easy to miss. The sheriff hadn’t cared. It had taken the Nelson family eight days to decide that Michelle was missing and not just drunk somewhere.

They had to have a place to keep those girls.

All he needed to do was figure out where. Process of elimination. He needed his computer and a little bit of hackery. “We need to go back to the ranch. I need my computer.”

He would find her. Or he would die trying.

* * *

Chase was going to kill him. Natalie was out there somewhere and Chase couldn’t use anyone’s computer but his own.

Damn it.

Ben looked down at his brother. Chase’s hands flew across the keys.

“Shouldn’t we just head out to the strip club and start beating the shit out of anyone we find?” It had been an hour. God only knew what could happen to Natalie after an hour with that freak. She could have been raped, beaten, tortured. It was all playing through Ben’s head. Horror stories that wouldn’t cease.

“There’s no way to train them at the strip club. It’s too small. They might use it for the auction. Did you call that number?” Chase asked.