Read Online Forever Hidden (Forever Bluegrass #2) by Kathleen Brooks - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathleen Brooks
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to find on the old, beaten-up laptop Ms. Vander handed over. Deacon promised to keep in touch. Sydney felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, pulled it out, and smiled her goodbye to Ms. Vander. As she walked down the sidewalk toward the car, she read the email from her former agent.
“Deacon!” she gasped as she finished reading the email.
“What?” he asked as he opened the door for her.
She sat in the passenger seat and looked up at him. “I got us a clue!”
Deacon grinned and closed the door. He hurried around to the driver’s side and got in. “Tell me.”
“My former agent says she reps a girl who had been with Tristan. She left them when her roommate disappeared one night. She went to a modeling gig and never came back. When the girl asked about it, she was told her roommate decided to go full-time with one client. It made her nervous, so she left the apartment that housed all of the Tristan models and found my agent the next day. My agent bought out her contract and has made her a very popular model since then.”
Deacon’s hands tightened on the wheel until Sydney saw his knuckles go white. “What else did your agent say?”
“She said they’re a small firm with many contacts abroad, especially in Italy where the owner, Durante Ingemi, is from. They have some popular models out there right now, but rumor has it they’re not completely on the up-and-up. About twenty years ago—that’s before any of these models were even born—the owner of Tristan was investigated for statutory rape of one of his clients when he worked at a different modeling agency as a recruiter.”
“Recruiter?” Deacon asked.
“Yeah, they travel all over the world looking for models to sign with the agency. They bring all these young girls and boys, usually fourteen to eighteen years old, to the agency and get a bonus for each model the agency signs. Since these young kids will do almost anything to become a model . . . well, you get the idea.” Sydney closed her email and watched as they turned down the oak-lined drive.
“And now this former recruiter owns his own modeling agency?” Deacon shook his head. “Unbelievable. I’m going to wait to see what I can get from Bailey’s phone and computer, but I fear we’re dealing with something far worse than a rebellious teen.”
Sydney felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t need Deacon to say it. She knew what was hiding on the underbelly of the fashion world—and it was truly ugly.
* * *
Sydney sat with her legs curled under her as she read the first note from her great-grandmother to Deacon. She could hear Ruth speaking as she read the history of the property and what she wished Deacon would do to keep the property up.
Deacon sat on the couch across from her with the laptop on the coffee table. Sydney looked at him over the letter she was reading. His face was knitted with concern as he focused on the computer.
Sydney picked up another letter and fell into the history lesson that was her great-grandmother’s life. She found the portrait her great-grandmother was talking about in this letter and studied it. Her great-great-great-grandfather had painted the skyline of Atlanta.
“I got it!” Deacon shouted in excitement as his fingers flew over the keys.
Sydney leapt up and hurried around the coffee table to sit beside him. “What did you find?”
“The online chat session Ms. Vander was talking about. The men are clearly soliciting her.”
Sydney leaned forward and read some of the chat. “Oh, that’s horrible. They’re manipulating her.”
“Look here, they tell her at eighteen she can leave her mother’s house voluntarily and her mom and the police can’t do anything about it. Then they tell her about being a model and traveling the world. They put it all in her head, and then someone a couple days later just happens to bump into her at the mall. The same mall she tells them she’s going to be at.”
“That’s the same
“Deacon!” she gasped as she finished reading the email.
“What?” he asked as he opened the door for her.
She sat in the passenger seat and looked up at him. “I got us a clue!”
Deacon grinned and closed the door. He hurried around to the driver’s side and got in. “Tell me.”
“My former agent says she reps a girl who had been with Tristan. She left them when her roommate disappeared one night. She went to a modeling gig and never came back. When the girl asked about it, she was told her roommate decided to go full-time with one client. It made her nervous, so she left the apartment that housed all of the Tristan models and found my agent the next day. My agent bought out her contract and has made her a very popular model since then.”
Deacon’s hands tightened on the wheel until Sydney saw his knuckles go white. “What else did your agent say?”
“She said they’re a small firm with many contacts abroad, especially in Italy where the owner, Durante Ingemi, is from. They have some popular models out there right now, but rumor has it they’re not completely on the up-and-up. About twenty years ago—that’s before any of these models were even born—the owner of Tristan was investigated for statutory rape of one of his clients when he worked at a different modeling agency as a recruiter.”
“Recruiter?” Deacon asked.
“Yeah, they travel all over the world looking for models to sign with the agency. They bring all these young girls and boys, usually fourteen to eighteen years old, to the agency and get a bonus for each model the agency signs. Since these young kids will do almost anything to become a model . . . well, you get the idea.” Sydney closed her email and watched as they turned down the oak-lined drive.
“And now this former recruiter owns his own modeling agency?” Deacon shook his head. “Unbelievable. I’m going to wait to see what I can get from Bailey’s phone and computer, but I fear we’re dealing with something far worse than a rebellious teen.”
Sydney felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t need Deacon to say it. She knew what was hiding on the underbelly of the fashion world—and it was truly ugly.
* * *
Sydney sat with her legs curled under her as she read the first note from her great-grandmother to Deacon. She could hear Ruth speaking as she read the history of the property and what she wished Deacon would do to keep the property up.
Deacon sat on the couch across from her with the laptop on the coffee table. Sydney looked at him over the letter she was reading. His face was knitted with concern as he focused on the computer.
Sydney picked up another letter and fell into the history lesson that was her great-grandmother’s life. She found the portrait her great-grandmother was talking about in this letter and studied it. Her great-great-great-grandfather had painted the skyline of Atlanta.
“I got it!” Deacon shouted in excitement as his fingers flew over the keys.
Sydney leapt up and hurried around the coffee table to sit beside him. “What did you find?”
“The online chat session Ms. Vander was talking about. The men are clearly soliciting her.”
Sydney leaned forward and read some of the chat. “Oh, that’s horrible. They’re manipulating her.”
“Look here, they tell her at eighteen she can leave her mother’s house voluntarily and her mom and the police can’t do anything about it. Then they tell her about being a model and traveling the world. They put it all in her head, and then someone a couple days later just happens to bump into her at the mall. The same mall she tells them she’s going to be at.”
“That’s the same
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