Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) (10 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Sydney breathed in and coughed. Her family treasure stunk! When Deacon lifted the lid, all she could see were layers of tan canvases overlapping. The trunk looked to be constructed of wood and then covered both on the inside and outside with leather. Then large sheets of canvas enclosed all the items.

“What is that? And why does it smell?” Sydney gasped as Deacon got up and opened the outside door. He tried not to turn green from the stench. The fresh air blew into the room as he also reached up to turn on the ceiling fan. 

“It’s waterproof canvas. The old-fashioned way to waterproof was with wax and oil. I know you want to jump right in, but let’s let it air out with the fan for a bit. You never know if anything toxic has built up over time.” Deacon guided a disappointed Sydney into the kitchen and closed the door between the two rooms. “I’ll make you lunch, and then we can go in and check it out.”

“I hate sitting here doing nothing,” Sydney told him as she took a seat on the bar top.

Deacon reached for some bread and started making sandwiches. The night before, as he held Sydney in his arms, his mind had turned to losing her. He ran over every word the attacker had said to her and one thing had stuck out.

“We won’t be doing
nothing
. We’re going to work on finding Bailey. Something bothered me. He knew you had been looking for him. One of the people you emailed must have told him.”

Deacon saw Sydney recoil in shock. “You’re right. I can’t believe one of my friends would be caught up in this. It’s too horrible to even contemplate. The only people I emailed were people I’ve worked with for many years.”

“Tell me about them. Who did you email and how do you know them?” Deacon asked as he pulled lettuce and tomato from the stainless steel refrigerator.

“I emailed my mom. I think we can cross her off the list,” Sydney said dryly. “Then I emailed my old agent. I worked with her for six years. She’s the one who told me about their shady reputation.”

Deacon nodded as he cataloged the probability of the leak. “Most likely not. Who else?”

“I emailed some of my fellow models. None of them has ever been with Tristan, and they’re women I traveled all across the world with. They’re like sisters to me.” Sydney took a deep breath and Deacon could see the thought cross her face that one of them had sold her out.

“Which one don’t you trust?” he asked quietly.

“Emily Tamlin. We were close, but not as close as the others. She was always more concerned about being friends with us so she could use us than being a true friend. However, she was never mean about it. Just opportunistic.”

“Anyone else?”

“Patrick Mawler. He’s a famous photographer. Then there was Teddy Brown, the designer. That’s everyone I emailed.”

“What do you think of Patrick and Teddy?” Deacon asked as he sliced the sandwich in half and put it on a plate for her.

“They’re geniuses. They’ve worked with everyone. They said they knew Durante, but they didn’t go into much detail and said they never heard of one of his agents named Vic or a girl named Bailey.”

“I think we have to put Emily, Patrick, and Teddy on the suspect list. I’ll do some research into them and see if I can find a connection to Tristan.” Deacon pushed the plate across the island to Sydney. She took it and didn’t say much as she ate. That was fine with Deacon. He was too busy thinking of Bailey.

The night she left, she would have been taken somewhere private. Human traffickers worked by making their victims fall in love with them. They manipulated the young girls into relying on them for everything. Sometimes that took weeks. But, judging by the looks of the emails and texts Deacon found, Vic had already started brainwashing Bailey.

After Vic had her eating out of his hand, he would start the sob story. That he needed money to save his mother, sister, or grandmother. That he needed money to finance her career or any other excuse he could make her believe. After casually bringing up how beautiful she was and how anyone would pay a fortune to be her boyfriend, he would break her. Sometimes it was by force. Sometimes the girls willingly believed it would just be once to help the man they love. But it was never just once.

Vic would have to be sure he had completely broken her will and convinced her she would be abandoned if she called home or tried to escape. He would tell her that her mother would call her a whore and turn her back on her. Or possibly that if she went home he’d kill her mother. He would tell her he’d release the video of her with all the men. He’d remind her of the money she’d turned over to him for his sick relative or whatever tale he had spun. Then Vic would convince her she was a criminal for taking money for sex. If she went to the police, she would be arrested and sent to jail.

Vic would do or say anything to keep Bailey dependent on him. Drugs were most likely involved as well as a means to blur reality for Bailey. It was when she felt as if she had no options but to stay that Vic would sell her or turn her into a prostitute. And that’s when she would be moved. That’s when her trail would turn into dark whispers in the shadows of the night upon the lips of men so evil even the devil would shudder.

Tonight he would go out into that world and find her. He only hoped she had held on. If Bailey remained defiant, then she might still be in town. If not, he only hoped he could go deep enough into the shadows to find her.

Sydney ate quietly. Her mind had drifted from what was in her family’s trunk to finding Bailey. What Vic had told her had given her nightmares. Only the feel of Deacon’s strong arms holding her to the present prevented her from losing herself in the horror of Vic’s words.

Could one of her friends really be in league with Vic? There was no other way for him to find out about her connection to Bailey. It had to be Emily, Patrick, or Teddy. She pulled out her phone and sent a text to each of them as Deacon worked on his computer across from her. She thanked each for their help and then told them she’d like to pay them back. She asked if they were going to be anywhere nearby so she could take them out to dinner. And then she waited.

Emily was the first to get back to her. She has a photo shoot in Spain and wouldn’t be back in the United States for another two weeks. Teddy was next. He wasn’t going to be in Kentucky, but he would be at the football championship game in Indianapolis the next week. There was a party he’d been invited to. Sadly, he didn’t think he’d have the time to come to Keeneston for a visit. Finally Patrick replied. He too was going to be at the football game in Indianapolis as he shot some of the campaigns to promote the game.

“
Too bad I only got one ticket or you could join me. I’ve heard the game is completely sold out. Unfortunately, the next morning I’ll be flying to St. Barts for a photo shoot
.” Sydney read to Deacon.

She put down her phone and looked at Deacon. He had stopped doing research as soon as she had started to read the texts to him. She could see his mind working as he dissected every word.

“Do you find it strange they’re both going to the football game?” Deacon finally asked.

Sydney shrugged. “It is one of the biggest events of the year. It’s the place to be seen. A lot of models are married to football stars, and I have no doubt Teddy designed half of the wives’ blinged-out jerseys. They’ll be there for all the cameras and all the attention. It’s the same with the Derby.”

Deacon pursed his lips in thought. “And big sporting events like those are when human trafficking is at the highest. Do you think they could both be involved?”

Sydney felt her stomach plummet and then bounce up to her throat. She swallowed hard at the idea. “I hope not. I just don’t know anymore.”

“I need to talk to some of my contacts and then meet with Detective Gentry. I’ll try to find out as much as I can about trafficking and see if Gentry has been able to get a lead on Vic or Bailey.”

Deacon reached across the island and covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry you were attacked, but the good news is now the police are looking for Bailey. So, want to see what’s in the trunk before I make my calls?”

Sydney let out the breath she was holding. It was too much horror to think about. Focusing on the trunk gave her a break from thinking of what was happening to Bailey. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I’ll grab a bunch of clean sheets and lay them out here in the living room. I’ll help you carry all the items out and spread them out for you to look over.” Deacon squeezed her hand and turned to the mudroom. “Ready to see your family treasure?”

As she stared at the door, Sydney fingered the ring her great-grandmother had given her. Whatever secrets her family had been holding onto were about to come to light. “Yes, let’s see what my family has been hiding.”

Sydney followed Deacon into the mudroom. The smell had decreased significantly, thank goodness. Deacon opened a cabinet and pulled out what looked like a tissue box, but instead of pulling out tissues, he pulled out latex gloves and handed her a pair before slipping on his own.

“To help preserve anything delicate and also you probably don’t want to be touching some of this directly,” he explained as he moved to open the layers of canvas tied tightly closed.

Deacon used a knife to slice open the twine and pull apart the canvas. Sydney held her breath and then rolled her eyes. There were multiple layers. Once again she was left waiting as Deacon reached to the far right and sliced open the canvas, pulled it open, and then sliced a third layer on the far left.

“It appears to be dry. It’s a pain to open, but setting down so many layers seems to have kept the water out. Here we go,” Deacon said finally as he pushed aside the canvas.

Sydney leaned forward and looked into the trunk. More fabric. Everything was wrapped in unbleached muslin and tied with ribbon. “It looks like someone really made sure to pack these with long-term care in mind. This may take a while,” she said as she tried to make out how many items were in the trunk.

“I’ll help you take them out, then let you at them,” Deacon told her, and he reached into the trunk and pulled out the first big wrapped item. He carried it to the far side of the living room and set it down.

Sydney reached into the trunk and pulled out the next bundle. Strange. It seemed there were multiple items in the bundle. She carefully carried the awkward bundle into the living room and lowered it onto a separate sheet.

She stood and watched Deacon carry in the last bundle. She watched him silently as he bent over and placed the bundle ever so carefully onto the floor. Sydney didn’t know what to think of him. Deacon was unlike any man she’d known outside of Keeneston. He didn’t seem to care about her wealth or her job. He didn’t ask to go in her plane or for her to buy him a sports car. He didn’t even bring up finances, where she had houses, or what VIP rooms she liked to party in. He didn’t try to impress her, and he certainly didn’t try to get into her pants. In fact, it was the complete opposite. Deacon talked to her about Keeneston, her friends, and her family. He asked her what her interests were, talked to her about her puppy, and told her things her great-grandmother had told him. He wanted to hear some of the funny stories from growing up and asked about the Rose sisters and the Blossom Café.

Deacon’s arms flexed as he gently set her family history onto the ground, and Sydney thought about having woken with those arms wrapped around her. She had felt their warmth, their strength, and had instinctively curled closer to Deacon. Then she had felt it. It had been as soft and fleeting as the beat of a butterfly’s wings, but she had felt Deacon’s lips against her neck before he slid from the bed. It hadn’t been the action of a man who wanted to use her. It had been the action of a man who cared about her. In fact, all of his actions pointed to that. Deacon McKnight was tough, smart, and sexy as hell. He was also secure enough with himself to be gentle, supportive, and caring in a way that tumbled her heart into love.

“Oh shit,” Sydney gasped as her brain processed the feeling. She had wanted to kiss him simply because he hadn’t reacted to her the way other men had in the past. Instead, he had proved he cared for
her
as a person, not as a model, not as a businesswoman, but for Sydney Davies. And she loved him for it.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Deacon asked as he hurried to her side with worry filling his eyes.

Sydney looked up at him. Oh no. She had it bad. Love couldn’t happen this fast. Ryan and Sienna had hated each other for years . . . well, that wasn’t exactly true. They had always loved each other; they just had to get out of their own way. But her parents proved time mattered. They told her they had started off not liking each other. Her father thought her mother was a spoiled brat, and her mother thought her father liked to intimidate people. Sydney cringed as she remembered them telling her their love story. But they had shared a love that was undeniable, even if they fought it. And when they had stopped fighting and had gotten out of their own way—well, they couldn’t be more in love, even after thirty-one years of marriage. Story after story from her family all proved that once a Davies fell in love, they were in love. Forever.

“Sydney? You’ve gone white. Are you ill? Here, sit down.” Deacon guided her to the couch and sat next to her. He looked worried. 

“Sydney, breathe,” Deacon ordered. Sydney finally reacted and sucked in air. Her head was spinning, her heart was pounding, and southern manners told her not to mention what was happening to other parts of her body.