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Loads, but now wasn’t the time. He needed Ethan’s cool head and boots on the ground to help locate Haisley. “I was on my way to meet up with Hais and this elusive janitor, but by the time I got to the food court…” His jaw clenched against the wave of helpless rage. “I saw the van speeding away with her trapped inside.”

“Shit. You think her abduction is connected to Benedict’s death?”

“Has to be. The timing is too coincidental.” Nash swerved around a slow-moving SUV, ignoring the angry honk. “Especially based on what Trees found on Benedict’s burner phone. I think this criminal ring figured out that we were onto him, so they offed him. I don’t know if also killing the wife was meant to misdirect and make this look like a domestic situation, or whether these assholes were simply tying up loose ends.”

“You calling Hunter? The police?”

“Have to.” And their boss was going to rip him a new one for going behind management’s back, breaking into their client’s office, and taking that phone without authorization. But Hunter Edgington’s rage was nothing compared to the ice in Nash’s veins. “Ethan, one more thing? Get whatever the mall has in the way of surveillance tapes from this morning and go through them with a fine-tooth comb. Ask Kane to help you. We need all the help we can muster.”

“On it. We’ll find her, Nash.”

They fucking had to. He didn’t know what he’d do without Haisley.

He croaked out a “yeah” and ended the call. Then he took a deep breath before connecting to Hunter Edgington, the most senior of their bosses at EM Security Management.

Stay focused. Be logical. Don’t give in to panic…

Hunter answered on the first ring. “Talk to me, Scott. What the fuck is going on?”

“Like I texted, we have a situation.” Nash tried like hell to steady his voice. “Haisley Rowe has been abducted from the hall adjacent to the food court in Oakfield Mall, just like the other victims. Dragged out the back service entrance to an idling brown conversion van. I need satellite coverage of I-49 and access to every traffic cam feed around town until we verify which direction they’re heading.”

“Haisley, George Benedict’s social media director who went with you to swipe Benedict’s phone?” Hunter’s voice held an edge sharper than a blade. “The one you didn’t clear through me first?”

“Yeah.” Nash’s chest squeezed. Every second he spent explaining was another second Haisley slipped farther away.

“The one you’re fucking?”

“The one I’m inlovewith,” he snarled back.

“Damn it. I didn’t know.” Hunter sighed. “That’s rough. Some asshole once tried to kill Kata and… Thank god my wife is tough. I get how you feel, but you still went behind my back.”

“And I’ll accept whatever consequences you deem appropriate later. But right now?—”

“Pull over.”

“Goddamn it, no!”

“That’s an order, Scott. You’re too close. Pull over and wait for backup. I’ll send Garrison and Preston.”

“Fuck that. Fire me if you want. But I’m on the kidnapper’s tail. I’ve wired my shit tight. I’m good to go.”

“Nash—”

“Would you have stopped pursuing the captor who took Kata?” he challenged.

“You’re a hard-headed bastard. But you’re right. I wouldn’t. Before I make any calls, give me a full sitrep. What exactly did you and Trees find on that phone? And don’t leave out a single fucking detail.”

Nash accelerated through a yellow light, his jaw tight. “Six victims have disappeared from Oakfield Mall in the past year. It’s a professional operation. The women vanish completely. No bodies, no traces. Benedict’s phone seems to tie him to the operation, at least circumstantially. My brother found coded messages about ‘merchandise’ and ‘special orders.’ Financial transfers through a shell company connected to Rugs Direct—a website we discovered with veiled listings for the women they sell. The site goes dark the minute anyone investigates.”

“Jesus Christ. Why didn’t you brief me sooner?”

“Because we didn’t have much proof.” And because Edgington might have shut him down when the client became the suspect. “Benedict seemingly had a mistress. We don’t know if she’s involved. We need to question her. Last night’s sudden murder-suicide? It feels too neat. Too convenient. And that janitor at the mall… He’s neck deep in this bullshit. It’s also sus that the minute he finally agreed to let Haisley and me interview him, she’s taken.”

“Agreed. And Trees is sure of the connection between Benedict and Rugs Direct?”

“Time-stamped transfers correlate with every disappearance. Someone’s watching the mall, choosing targets, coordinating with inside help. This isn’t some amateur operation. They’ve got resources, technical expertise, and protection somewhere up the chain.”

“Benedict hired us to get to the bottom of the abductions at the mall. He might be dead now, and EM Security might lose their ass financially on this op, but I don’t think we can let this go.”