Page 85 of Wicked and Ruthless

Haisley collapsed into the woman’s chair with a heavy sigh as her phone buzzed again—another text from Nash.

Trees got more info off of Benedict’s phone. We need to talk ASAP. I’m on my way to you. You need to see this.

Haisley’s heart started racing. What had they uncovered? A breakthrough? And how deep did this rabbit hole go? She couldn’t shake the feeling that something far bigger—and more sinister—was at work with the Benedicts’ murder-suicide. The events of the past twenty-four hours had left her overwhelmed. Passion, love, death, and shrouded secrets. Whatever Nash had uncovered, it must be serious if he was dropping everything to show her right now.

As Haisley headed back toward the food court, her heels clicked against the generic tile floor. She passed shuttered storefronts that made the mall feel eerily quiet. Only the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant voices of early morning staff broke the silence.

Once she rounded the corner to the food court, she scanned the space. A figure caught her eye. In one hand, he clutched a yellow Caution: Wet Floor sign. With the other, he pulled an industrial cart.

Her pulse quickened. The janitor—the one Abby had described as creepy, who had been conveniently “sick” when Nash tried to interview him earlier in the week—was lingering near the women’s restroom. This might be their chance to fill in some blanks. She glanced at her watch. Nash was on his way. The mall would open soon, making it far less likely the janitor would have time to speak to them later.

It was now or never.

Haisley ducked under the stanchion cordoning off the shadowy hallway and approached the man in the blue jumpsuit.

“Excuse me,” she called out, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her stomach.

The man turned, his weathered face impassive. “Ma’am, this area is closed for cleaning.”

“I know. I’m sorry to bother you.” Haisley flashed what she hoped was a disarming smile. “I’m Haisley Rowe. You were scheduled to speak with my…cohort, Nash Scott, earlier this week about some recurring…incidents here at the mall.”

The janitor’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained neutral. “Yeah. The interview. Um…” He glanced at his watch, then back at Haisley. “I’ve got to get this restroom cleaned before opening. Tell you what? I can make a few minutes to sit down with you and that security guy as soon as I’m done here. Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect. I’ll be waiting right there.” She pointed to a cluster of tables that Julia and some of the other mall staff were hurriedly righting.

By the time she turned back, the janitor had disappeared into the women’s restroom, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud.

Haisley blinked. That was an abrupt end to their conversation. Almost rude. Still, despite the disaster of the day and all the unanswered questions she and Nash still had to tackle, this was a step forward.

She pulled her phone from her purse and tapped out a quick message to Nash.

Got the janitor to agree to an interview in a few. Meet us at the food court.

As she darkened her phone to tuck it away, Haisley glanced down the dimly lit hallway that stretched ominously into darkness. A chill ran down her spine. With a jolt, she realized she was standing in the exact spot where all five missing women had been abducted.

Her breath caught in her throat as fear pressed in on her. Mr. Benedict, the likely mastermind, was now dead. It was probably perfectly safe. But standing in this very spot, knowing what had transpired, was beyond terrifying.

Isolation pressed in on her. Usually, when she visited the food court during mall hours, it was a bustling hub of activity. Now it felt like a ghost town. It felt unsafe.

Haisley gripped her phone tighter, her thumb hovering over Nash’s number. Would he think she was overreacting if she called him?

She was still trying to decide when a shuffling behind her made her blood suddenly turn to ice.

Nash gripped the steering wheel, his thoughts whirling as he sped toward the mall. The information Trees had extracted from Benedict’s burner phone was explosive—details of the trafficking ring, financial records, an unusual symbol he didn’t understand, and most crucially, the passcode to the Rugs Direct Unlimited website. It was the breakthrough they’d been waiting for, but it also meant the danger was far more immediate than either he or Haisley had realized.

The idea of his woman working under the same roof as a dangerous predator like Benedict fucking scared and infuriated him. He was glad Haisley never had to see or speak to the exploitive asshole again. And after last night, despite waking her up twice more in the night to make love to her, he couldn’t wait to touch her again, to hold her and reassure them both.

His phone chimed, breaking into his thoughts. It was a text from Haisley.

Got the janitor to agree to an interview in a few. Meet us at the food court.

A mixture of pride and concern surged through him. Haisley was brilliant, but the janitor had been suspiciously elusive. Nash quickly typed back.

3 minutes out. Be careful.

She didn’t reply. Nash frowned, trying to push down his unease. She was working; she was probably busy. Hell, maybe she was already sitting down with the janitor.

Still, he pressed the accelerator a little harder.

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