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Chapter Eight
Jaxson
“How nice to meet you, Ms. Sinclair,” I said and stepped closer, offering out my hand. One glance at her, and without a doubt, I recognized her from the picture on my phone as Hazel Agron.
What was Mason doing with her? “Can I have a word with you, alone?” I asked Mason.
“Sure. I’ll just be a sec,” he said to the woman seated on the sofa in his office.
I stepped out into the hallway and gestured for him to come into my office. I forced the door closed harder than intended. It slammed.
“Something on your mind?” Mason asked. It was just the two of us.
“That girl you think you’re protecting, she’s not who she says she is.” Why was Hazel in his office lying about her identity? Did Mason realize that he’d been deceived?
I wanted to be reasonable. I was still running background on Nikolai as well as Hazel. The information had been squeaky clean for both of them. Not so much as a parking ticket.
Mason’s eyes shined and the corners of his lips curved upward. “I know that, but how do you know that?” he asked.
I slumped into my plush office chair and slid it around to face Mason. “Have a seat.” I gestured to the empty seat in my office.
He exhaled loudly through his nose and sat down. “What’s going on, Jaxson?”
“I received a call early this morning from a new client requesting our help in locating his missing wife.”
“Missing wife? Tell me you didn’t hire him.” Mason leaned forward on his knees, his head in his hands. “Did you miss what happened with your girlfriend yesterday morning?”
My jaw clenched and my hands bunched at my side into fists. “She’s not my girlfriend, and no, I was busy running background checks for Blue Sky Resort, again. I’m surprised they hired us after the last time with Ariella.”
Hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, he ran a hand through his short, cropped hair. “Please tell me we didn’t take the Russian mob on as a client,” Mason said.
What the hell was he talking about? “She’s with the Russian mafia?” I’d done preliminary searches, and everything had come back squeaky clean. My specialty was in the field. I wasn’t a hacker. I didn’t know how to access what wasn’t easily accessible. Declan was the go-to guy for that, and Ariella, I had a feeling she could probably keep up with him with her former C.I.A. training.
I shouldn’t have turned Ariella’s offer down earlier that morning. I’d been foolish and self-indulgent.
“She’s not willingly with the Russian mafia,” Mason said and cleared his throat. “Hazel’s brother is the head of the mob in Chicago. I’m guessing you already know that’s her real name.”
We didn’t keep secrets from one another. “Why didn’t you tell me you accepted her call for help?” I didn’t like the position that this put our team in; hiring both sides wasn’t advisable. We weren’t mediators, and this was the mafia we were dealing with, not a messy divorce.
“Aiden and Declan already know,” Mason said. He held out his hands, palms upward. “Lincoln knows too.”
“Lincoln?” I stood, the chair squeaking as it slid behind me. “Why am I the last to know?”
“Because you have your head so far up your ass, Monroe. You buried yourself in your office to avoid the hottie out there,” Mason said, pointing at the door. “If you spent five minutes not being narcissistic, then you would have seen what’s right under your nose.”
It was a good thing Mason wasn’t my employee and we were equals or I’d have fired his ass and thrown him out the front door. “You’re out of line, Reid.” If he was going to call me by my last name, two could play at that game.
A soft knock rapped at the door. “What?” I shouted and yanked the office door open. Ariella stood on the other side, her eyes wide as she averted her stare from me to Mason.
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” she said, “but the sheriff is here for your statement, Mason.”
“Your statement? What the hell, Mason?” How much had I missed?
Mason stood and brushed past me without another word. He led Sheriff Nelson into his office and shut the door behind him.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked. Declan and Aiden had disappeared down the hall, and Ariella slunk into the seat at her desk, attempting to look small and invisible. “Ariella?” I wanted someone to tell me what the hell I’d missed. It seemed she knew about Hazel. What else did she know?
“Yes?” her voice squeaked as she met my stare.
