Free Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) by Kathleen Brooks Page A

available man she thought he was.
     
    *     *     *
     
    Deacon’s cold shower didn’t do the trick. He’d even taken himself in hand and that didn’t do it either. It was the fault of the woman who’d been dancing around the kitchen in her flannel pajamas. The feel of Sydney lying under him was something he wasn’t going to forget easily.
    When he’d made it downstairs fifteen minutes earlier, he’d found Sydney bent over and wiggling her curvy bottom as she plucked things from his fridge. He’d had to hide behind the counter again.
    Then, for the next five minutes, she’d quizzed him on all the foods he liked and didn’t like. She’d promised to make him a dinner he’d love. When he’d told her he could just order a pizza, she’d laughed.
    “It’s my way of saying thank you for letting me stay here. And for the letters.” She’d tossed him her million-watt smile and started rummaging for pots and pans.
    And that was how he wound up sitting on the nearby couch listening to her sing—badly, as she cooked—and falling more in love with her by the second. He was supposed to be looking at the mall surveillance tapes. Instead, all he wanted was to be closer to Sydney. He shook his head to refocus on the tapes.
    His world narrowed to his computer screen as Bailey Vander came into view. She was with friends. They stopped in front of a store and her friends went in while Bailey went to a nearby ice cream cart. Then Vic came into view. Deacon watched as Vic stood near her. He had her do a spin for him and smiled at her. Bailey glowed as Vic talked to her. He reached out and ran a hand down her arm. Bailey nodded and entered her number into the phone he handed her. Bailey’s friends started to come out of the shop, and Vic looked at his watch and left.
    Deacon paused the image on Vic’s smug face as he walked away from Bailey. He hit print and heard the printer in his office turn on.
    “Is that the man?” Deacon looked up and found Sydney standing behind the couch looking over his shoulder.
    “I think this is Vic. I’m emailing it to Ms. Vander to see if this is the same guy she saw having lunch with Bailey.”
    “Send me a copy of the picture as well. I can send it to my fashion contacts right now. After my shower, I checked my email again. I heard from a few more friends. Tristan Models is in the strange position of having a couple top models out there right now, which allows them certain leeway in the industry’s mind. Those who are younger think Tristan is the next hip place to be. Those who are older remember numerous rumors of rape and some models who disappeared.”
    “So, it’s either you love them or you hate them?” Deacon asked as he flipped in a different DVD. He had to push aside his anger and focus on the case. Emotions got in the way of seeing the small clues.
    “That’s right. What are you looking for now?” Sydney asked as she leaned over his shoulder to look at the image of a side exit.
    “I’m looking for where Vic goes. I want to see if I can get a license plate. How did Durante Ingemi get away with raping women, allegedly?” Deacon added sarcastically. No matter how hard he tried to think of them as pieces to the mystery he had to solve, he couldn’t.
    “Well, the one that my friend told me about was when Durante had offices in New York, L.A., and Milan. It’s real easy through coercion. 'If you want to be represented by me, then you’ll do this.' Or it’s easy for things to get overlooked when they are constantly on the move between different locations around the world. Who is going to believe some poor girl from some farm in the middle of nowhere Poland who can’t even speak English or Italian when Durante is sitting next to a high-ranking politician at Milan fashion week? Most women would just keep quiet and go back to their home countries or try another agency.”
    Deacon looked up from the laptop. His mouth was dry as he looked at the vibrant woman standing