Книга - Hideaway At Hawk’s Landing

Hideaway At Hawk's Landing
Rita Herron


He’s her best chance to save her childAfter her baby girl is kidnapped, Dr Mila Manchester turns to Brayden Hawk for help. The sexy lawyer is determined to save Mila’s daughter, but could the explosive secret Mila’s keeping destroy the growing bond between him and the single mum?







Her baby has been abducted

And Brayden Hawk is her best chance at getting the child back

After her baby girl is kidnapped, Dr. Mila Manchester must turn to the one man who can help bring her home: Texas cowboy Brayden Hawk. The sexy lawyer refuses to settle for anything less than reuniting mother and daughter, but the deeper he digs, the more questions he has. Like why is Mila so sure the girl’s father isn’t involved? And is the explosive secret he can tell she’s keeping going to destroy the intimacy building between them—or strengthen it?

Badge of Justice


USA TODAY bestselling author RITA HERRON wrote herfirst book when she was twelve but didn’t think realpeople grew up to be writers. Now she writes so shedoesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergartenteacher and workshop leader, she traded storytelling tokids for writing romance, and now she writes romanticcomedies and romantic suspense. Rita lives in Georgiawith her family. She loves to hear from readers, soplease visit her website, ritaherron.com (http://www.ritaherron.com).


Also by Rita Herron (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Redemption at Hawk’s LandingLock, Stock and McCullenMcCullen’s Secret SonRoping Ray McCullenWarrior SonThe Missing McCullenThe Last McCullenCold Case at Camden CrossingCold Case at Carlton’s CanyonCold Case at Cobra Creek

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Hideaway at Hawk’s Landing

Rita Herron






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07935-8

HIDEAWAY AT HAWK’S LANDING

© 2018 Rita B. Herron

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To my wonderful daughter, Elizabeth, who helps real

victims of domestic violence and human trafficking

every day—you are amazing!

Love, Mom


Contents

Cover (#ua4ad76ff-6150-5067-bb60-7fd421817ec9)

Back Cover Text (#u2c9c1ab7-86f2-5b01-b4ea-8cbff04fb97c)

About the Author (#u3fbd3164-9d67-50dd-81b4-f679fc409be6)

Booklist (#u0e12633f-7c8f-5294-8f76-0418c58c37b0)

Title Page (#u1b58889e-ce08-5eec-aa1b-501db00d75a6)

Copyright (#u5556305d-449a-5b20-b641-d43517491daa)

Dedication (#ueda579f0-7b10-5331-aa22-a17d2df2c737)

Prologue (#ue1f33c46-5e6a-58e6-8507-8dd08317a458)

Chapter One (#u2f335291-415f-5c49-accd-302d6e2c1b07)

Chapter Two (#ub745a80c-ff3b-56a0-af77-522ba281abb2)

Chapter Three (#u6c3bfc90-9ef8-5fcd-b5cb-215ab408825c)

Chapter Four (#u8eba59cb-1592-522f-ab8d-079a5e2e3234)

Chapter Five (#ud2841d84-5b98-5ce0-b081-0cce16b139d3)

Chapter Six (#u4a1aa017-39e3-58d5-9b8b-ca46e5b5a5c7)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

“Please, you have to take my baby.” The young girl hid in the shadows of the awning, shivering as a dreary rain drizzled down, adding to the winter chill in the air.

Mila Manchester’s heart ached for her. She knew her story. She was thirteen years old. Her name was Carina. Her mother had died in childbirth, and her father had abused her. Then he’d sold her to a man who used her as a sex slave.

Mila had helped Carina get to a shelter when she’d first escaped the monster.

Now Carina’s slender pale face was shielded by a scarf, and her clothes were dark, allowing her to blend into the night.

A disguise.

She was terrified for her life.

The baby whimpered and Carina rocked her gently in her arms. “If he finds out little Isabella is his, he’ll kill me and do God knows what with her.”

Fear and grief laced the girl’s voice. Carina was just a child herself. She should be in high school, hanging out with girlfriends, attending football games, shopping for dresses for the school dance.

Mila had wanted to report the situation to the police, but the girl had begged her not to. She’d confided about her pregnancy and claimed that the man didn’t know. If he found out, he’d never let her go.

And if she went to the police, he would find out.

“Please, you’re the only person I trust, Dr. Manchester. Promise me you’ll give her a good life,” the girl cried.

“Of course I will,” Mila said. How could she turn her away? “But what about you? Do you want to stay with me—”

The girl shook her head, her eyes wild with panic. “No, he’ll find me and kill both of us.”

Mila’s heart pounded. Unfortunately, she was right. “What will you do then?”

“I talked to those women at the shelter like you suggested. They know somebody who’ll give me a new identity. They’ve even found me a place to stay so I can go to school.”

So, the underground team was still operating. They’d helped so many abused women and children that she’d been afraid the police would shut them down.

Emotions clogged Mila’s throat. This girl needed a chance to have a life. And so did the baby.

A noise sounded from the street, and the girl glanced over her shoulder. “They’re waiting. This might be my only chance.” She kissed the baby on the cheek. “I don’t want you to think I’m a terrible mother—”

“I don’t,” Mila said. “It’s obvious you love her, or you wouldn’t have come here.” But how could she take care of the child when she was just finishing her medical residency herself?

The girl suddenly threw herself against Mila and broke into a sob. Mila wrapped her arms around her and the infant and soothed her. “It’s okay, sweetie. What happened to you isn’t fair or right. You deserve to go to school and make a life for yourself.”

The girl nodded against Mila, but she was crying and trembling as she turned and fled toward the waiting car.

Mila blinked back tears. She could take the child to the authorities. They’d find her a home. One with two parents.

But then she’d never know what happened to her...

And what if Carina came back one day looking for her daughter?

She looked down into the baby’s sweet face. Her big eyes were watching her. Then the baby curled a tiny hand against Mila’s breast.

Mila’s heart melted. This baby needed her. She’d raise her as her own.

And she’d do anything to protect her.


Chapter One (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Three years later

Having Isabella, Izzy, had changed Dr. Mila Manchester’s life forever. She would do anything for her little girl.

Time to check in.

Mila ducked into the break room at the clinic where she worked and dialed her home number. When she was working, she missed Izzy, but they FaceTimed at least three times a day. And Izzy loved her nanny, Roberta, who’d been a Godsend to them both.

Izzy smiled up at her with big brown eyes. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Izzy twirled around the kitchen, her sparkling tiara bobbing sideways on her head.

“Look, Mommy, I’m a princess today.”

“You’re my little princess every day,” Mila said with a smile.

Izzy pointed to the sequins on the pink dress Roberta had made for her. “Look, they sparkle.”

“I see. I bet when the lights are off, you’ll glow in the dark.” Mila’s heart swelled with love.

Izzy bobbed her head up and down. “That’s what Bertie says,” Izzy said. She had a difficult time saying Roberta’s full name and had shortened it when she’d first started talking. Roberta didn’t seem to mind.

Izzy raced over to the table and picked up a silver glittery wand. “Look, Bertie made this, too, so I can do magic.”

“I can’t wait to get home so you can show me your magic.”

“Home?” Izzy ran around in circles. “Soon?”

“Mommy will be home in a little while.” Mila’s heart warmed at the sight of Roberta taking a pan of cookies from the oven. “Looks like you and Bertie are making yummy treats.”

Roberta smiled from the bar, where she set the hot pan, and Izzy climbed up on the stool beside her. A bowl of chocolate frosting sat on the counter, and she jammed one finger in the bowl, scooped up a glob, then licked it off.

“Yummy!” Izzy squealed.

Mila rubbed her tummy with a grin. “Save me some, sweet girl.”

Suddenly the back door into the kitchen at home flew open with a bang. Roberta startled and nearly dropped the second pan of cookies as two men in black stormed in, waving guns.

Mila clutched her phone, her heart pounding. “Roberta, Izzy—”

Roberta screamed and tucked Izzy close to her to protect her as one of the men aimed the semi at her. “Please, don’t hurt us!” Roberta cried.

“Izzy, run!” Mila shouted.

But it was too late. Another bear of a man snatched Izzy.

“Put me down!” Izzy kicked and pounded the man’s beefy arm with her fists.

He jerked her over his shoulder, then faced Mila. “Dr. Manchester, do what they tell you or you’ll never see your daughter again.”

They? What was he talking about?

Mila opened her mouth to plead with them, but a loud noise in the back of the clinic made her jump. She clutched her phone with clammy fingers and spun around as the door to the break room opened.

A man wearing all black stood in the doorway, a gun in his hand. “Get rid of the other people in the clinic and do it quietly.”

She glanced at her screen again to see if Izzy was okay, but the call had ended. Panic shot through her. Battling the terror gripping her, she crossed her arms and struggled for calm. “You...have my daughter? Why?”

The man in black shrugged, thick brows puckering as he approached. “Do what we tell you and she won’t get hurt.”

Fear choked Mila. “What do you want?”

“You’re going to give our leader a new face. Then we let your family go.” He jerked her by the arm and shoved her toward the door. “Now, clear the clinic. The boss wants this done quickly and quietly.”

“Who is your boss?”

“No names, Doc. It’s better that way.”

Mila sucked in a breath. “How do I know you’ll keep your word and won’t hurt Izzy?”

The man’s cold eyes met hers. “You’ll just have to trust us.”

She didn’t trust them at all.

He gestured toward the door, the gun aimed at her chest.

What else could she do? They had her daughter. She had no doubt they would hurt her if she didn’t cooperate.

She stepped into the hallway and spotted one of her nurses frowning from the nurses’ desk. She must have heard the noise.

“Unless you want her and your other staff to die, you’d better be quiet,” the man growled behind her.

Mila nodded and stepped forward to get rid of her staff and the patients in the waiting room.

* * *

BRAYDEN HAWK WAS done with women. Especially with fix-ups.

His partner at the law firm, Conrad Barker, had told him Penny Lark was gorgeous. And she had been.

But he’d failed to point out that she had a hole in her head where her brain was supposed to be. That all she cared about was her beauty regime and money and being the focal point on the society page.

Of course, Conrad didn’t care. He didn’t date women for their brains or because he wanted a future with them. He simply wanted sex.

Tension eased from Brayden as he drove onto Hawk’s Landing, the family ranch. The wind whistled through the windows of his SUV, trees swaying slightly in the late fall breeze.

At one time he’d been like Conrad. Not that he wanted a woman for her money, but he hadn’t wanted a relationship either.

The last few months with his family had changed everything.

For nearly two decades, the ranch had been a sad, lonely reminder of his missing little sister, Chrissy. And also of the fact that his father had deserted them shortly after her disappearance.

Thankfully, Chrissy’s murder had finally been solved and the family had closure.

Shortly after, his oldest brother, Harrison, the sheriff of Tumbleweed, had married Honey Granger.

And a few weeks ago, the next to the oldest brother, Lucas, an FBI agent, had married Charlotte Reacher, a victim in a shooting by a human trafficking ring Lucas was investigating.

On the heels of adding two wives to the family, his mother had opened the ranch to four foster girls, Charlotte’s art students, who’d needed a home after Lucas had rescued them from the trafficking ring, an operation known as Shetland.

Unfortunately, the ringleader of the operation had escaped and was in the wind.

And now Honey was pregnant, due in just a few weeks, and the house was alive again with family, with talk of babies and the next generation of Hawks.

Odd how that conversation had sparked thoughts of settling down himself.

Brayden shook off the thought, climbed from the SUV, smiling at the sound of the horses galloping on the hill. Since the girls had moved in, they’d added more livestock, and he’d hired his friend Beau Fortner as foreman of the ranch operation.

His mother swept him into a hug as he entered the foyer. “So glad you made it to dinner, Brayden.”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Mom.” The weekly family get-togethers had meant a lot to his mother during the lean years.

Truth be told, it had meant a lot to him, too. He’d harbored guilt over his sister’s disappearance and had needed his family around him.

Charlotte and Honey and the girls were laying out a spread of food that would feed half of Texas while Lucas, Harrison and brother number three, Dexter, stood by the sideboard sipping scotch. Dexter handed him a highball glass, and Brayden inhaled the rich aroma before taking a sip.

“Thanks, I needed this.”

“Bad day in court?” Lucas asked.

Brayden shrugged. He would have rather been in court than on that damn date. Thank God it had only been lunch.

His mother called them to the table, and they gathered for the blessing, then the meal. Excited talk of the nursery Honey was putting together for baby Hawk floated between the women while Dexter filled them in on the new horses he’d bought.

Lucas’s phone buzzed with a text, earning a chiding look from his mother. She respected all their jobs but insisted they leave their phones and business at the door.

“Sorry, Mom,” Lucas murmured. “It’s about the Shetland operation.”

The room grew quiet. Strained.

Lucas stood and walked to the foyer away from the table. Harrison followed. Tension stretched into a pained silence as they waited to find out if the Shetland ring had struck again.

* * *

MILA SWALLOWED BACK the terror clawing at her as she approached the head nurse in the clinic.

“Rhoda, will you please tell everyone to leave? I have to get home to Izzy. She’s sick.”

Rhoda gave her a worried look. “Is she okay?”

Mila fought a sob, then nodded. “She will be, but she needs her mommy. Just send the patients home and we’ll reschedule.” She squeezed Rhoda’s arm. “You go home, too. I’ll close up.”

Rhoda was a single mother with a ten-year-old son at home, so she didn’t mind an opportunity to take off early.

Mila felt the gunman’s eyes piercing her as she watched Rhoda quickly clear the waiting room, then shut down the computer at the nurses’ desk.

“Anything else I can do?” Rhoda called from the front.

“No, thanks for handling that. Have a good night with Trey.”

Rhoda yelled good-night, then left through the front door.

The gunman motioned for her to lock up, and Mila rushed forward, locked the doors and closed all the blinds. Noises sounded from the back, and she walked toward the exam rooms on shaky legs.

“Why me? Why here?” Mila asked.

The gunman jabbed the gun into her back. “We know you helped some of our girls escape.”

A cold chill washed over Mila. Some of their girls?

She had referred a few lost teens at the clinic to the women’s shelter. And then there was Izzy’s mother...

The back door burst open, and four more armed men strode in, their big bodies shielding another man in a suit who she assumed was the boss.

The guards scanned the interior, their posture braced to shoot. As they parted to search the clinic to make sure they were alone, she got her first real look at the man they called their leader.

Thick black hair framed an angular face that might be handsome if not for the scar running down the side of his cheek and the evil in his black eyes.

Eyes that looked familiar.

Pure panic robbed her breath.

She knew who he was. Arman DiSanti—the man who’d bought and used Izzy’s mother as a sex slave.

Did he know that her daughter, Izzy, the little girl they’d taken hostage, was his birth child?

* * *

BRAYDEN TRIED TO keep everyone calm as they waited on Lucas to answer the phone call. When Lucas returned, he looked antsy.

“We have a lead on the ringleader of the Shetland operation. We think he’s undergoing cosmetic surgery to change his identity.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “I have to go.”

Harrison leaned over to give Honey a kiss. “I’m going with him.”

As sheriff of Tumbleweed, Harrison had no jurisdiction outside their small town, but he’d caught the case when Charlotte had been shot during the abductions of four students from her art studio. Lucas had been called in then. At this point, the entire family and the girls were all invested in making sure the trafficking ring was shut down for good.

“Need backup?” Dexter asked.

Dex’s PI skills had come in handy when they’d been tracking down the missing girls.

Lucas shook his head no. “This is an FBI operation, but thanks.”

Charlotte stood and touched her husband’s arm. “Where are you going?”

“A clinic outside Austin. Some plastic surgeon named Dr. Manchester is giving the bastard a new face.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Dr. Manchester?”

Lucas nodded. “Mila Manchester. For all we know, she’s on Shetland’s payroll. Her volunteer work could be a cover to give her opportunities to do jobs like this.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, Lucas. Mila can’t be involved.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes at his wife. “You know Dr. Manchester?”

She nodded. “Her mother is the doctor who removed my port-wine birthmark when I was younger. I met Mila when I was at the clinic. And I’ve read about her volunteer work. She’s a good person.”

Lucas glanced at the table, where everyone was watching. Fear darkened the teens’ faces while worry knitted his mother’s brow.

“Maybe you think you know her,” Lucas said. “But, Charlotte, these men could be paying her big money to help them.”

Charlotte shook her head in denial again. “No, not Mila. She’s kind and loving and giving just like her mother was.”

Lucas looked torn but dropped a kiss on Charlotte’s cheek. “I really have to go. We don’t want this guy to get away.”

“Be careful,” Charlotte said, her voice strained. “And promise me you won’t hurt Mila.”

Lucas hugged her tightly. “Everything will be okay.”

Brayden pushed back from the table and followed Lucas and Harrison to the door. Dexter was right behind him.

Lucas stepped outside. “I’ll call you when we have him in custody.”

Brayden nodded. “Just get the bastard.”


Chapter Two (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Mila typically took weeks to plan a facial reconstruction surgery. She had several consultations with the patient, conducted an analysis of problematic features needing correction, created computer sketches simulating what the finished product would look like and, if needed, arranged counseling with a professional. She’d also run blood work and tests to verify the patient was healthy enough for surgery.

Sometimes skin grafts were necessary. And sometimes multiple surgeries.

She had no time for any of that today.

DiSanti had shoved a photograph into her hands and told her exactly what he’d wanted. The changes would literally make him unrecognizable.

She’d been working for hours now. Her hand trembled as she finished the last of the sutures around his forehead. Perspiration trickled down the side of her face. Exhaustion bled through every cell in her body, adding to the tension thrumming through her. Her feet ached, her head throbbed and her eyes were blurring.

Twice his blood pressure had risen, and she’d thought she might lose him. That would be a blessing.

But the guards had warned her that if she made a mistake or if he died, she’d pay for it.

“How much longer?” the shortest of the guards asked.

“I’m almost finished. But he’s going to need recovery time.” She wanted to tell them they were fools to put him through so many alterations in one day. “I told you that I usually perform these procedures in steps.”

“We don’t have time for that,” the bigger brute barked. “Just finish.”

Images of Izzy and Roberta, terrified for their lives, taunted her with every minute she worked on the man. So far, she’d reshaped his nose, lifted his eyelids and added fillers to his cheeks and lips. His scar was history, as well.

He looked ten years younger and almost handsome.

But nothing could change the monster beneath that face.

The goons guarding the surgical room remained rigid, guns pointing at her.

Her finger slipped, and she bit her tongue as she dropped the instrument. The guard took a step forward, his glare a warning. If she lost DiSanti, she’d be dead in seconds.

She forced a breath to calm her nerves, then completed the row of stitches, dabbing away blood as she went.

Relieved to finally finish, she gestured toward her patient. “He’s going to need rest, ice packs, pain medication. I’ll send you with everything you need to take care of him.”

A snide grin slid onto the brute’s face. “We’re not going to take care of him, Doc. You are.”

Mila’s pulse pounded. “Listen, I did everything you asked. Now let me go home to my little girl.”

He shook his head. “Not happening yet. Not until he’s healing and we know you didn’t pull something on us.”

The shorter man’s phone buzzed. He stepped aside to answer, then spoke in a low hushed voice. Anger slashed his eyes as he hung up. “We have to move him now. The feds are on their way.”

Mila gripped the steel counter where her instruments were spread out. If the feds were coming, maybe they’d save Izzy.

The men jumped into motion. Keeping the IV attached, they rolled the patient through the hallway and loaded him into the back of their van. The bigger guy jerked her arm. “Come on, Doc. Get whatever supplies you need to take care of him and let’s go.”

She dug her heels in. “Please let me go home to my daughter. I’ll gather the supplies and you can take them with you.”

He jammed the gun at her temple. “I said move it.”

A siren wailed outside. One of the guards rushed in. “We have to go now. The damn feds are here!”

The man dragged her into the hall. She pulled back, desperate to escape. If they took her with them, they’d probably kill her and she’d never see Izzy again.

But the barrel of the gun pressed into her temple. “Fight and I’ll kill you right here.”

The siren wailed closer. No time to get supplies.

Mila fought a sob as the man dragged her out the back door.

Tires screeched. An SUV careened into the parking lot, a police car following. Blue lights twirled and flickered against the night sky.

Car doors opened, and a man shouted, “Stop, FBI!”

Two of the guards at the back of the van opened fire and men ducked for cover.

The man holding her arm lost his grip and fired back, then motioned for the two guards to get in the van. They jumped inside, while another one rushed into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, then shouts and bullets flew.

The big guy shoved her toward the van, but she kicked him in the knee. He cursed and pushed her again, but she dived to the side and hit the concrete. Another round of bullets pinged around her, then the big guy jumped inside the vehicle.

Mila covered her head with her hands as the FBI fired at the van. Through the back window the guards unleashed another round.

She screamed as a bullet pinged onto the concrete by her face.

Tires peeled rubber as the van screeched away. Footsteps and shouts followed. The officers were leaving. She raised her head to look around, but a tall, dark-haired man stood over her, his gun aimed at her.

“Dr. Manchester?”

She nodded, her body trembling.

He hauled her to her feet. “You are under arrest.”

She opened her mouth to protest. But he spun her around, yanked her arms behind her and snapped handcuffs around her wrists.

* * *

KEEPING THE HAWK women calm was an impossible job.

Brayden and Dexter tried everything from encouraging the girls to talk about riding to feigning interest in the plans for Honey’s nursery.

The fact that Honey didn’t want to talk about the baby’s room was not a good sign.

Charlotte paced in front of the fireplace in the den, where they’d gathered to have coffee and the blueberry cobbler his mother had baked. But no one was hungry and everyone wanted drinks instead of coffee. Except for Honey, of course.

“I wish they’d call,” Charlotte said as she made the turn at the corner of the fireplace for the dozenth time.

“Harrison has to come back okay.” Honey rubbed her growing belly. “This little boy needs his daddy.”

An awkward silence followed as her comment hit too close to home. He and his brothers had needed their father, but he’d left and never contacted them again.

“I’m sorry,” Honey said. “That was insensitive.”

“It’s the truth.” Their mother patted Honey’s shoulder. “We are not keeping secrets or mincing words. Your baby needs Harrison, and he’s coming back to you both.”

Brayden’s phone buzzed, and everyone startled.

“Is it Lucas?” Charlotte asked at the same time Honey asked if it was Harrison.

He checked the number. “Harrison.” He quickly connected, then listened.

“I don’t have much time. Arman DiSanti was at the clinic in Austin, but he escaped. Two FBI agents chased after him but lost him on the outskirts of Austin. We have an APB out for the van and have alerted all authorities.”

The women were boring holes into him with their anxious expressions. “Are you and Lucas all right?” Brayden asked.

“Yeah,” Harrison said. “Lucas arrested Dr. Manchester. We’re transporting her to the field office here in Austin for questioning. Tell Honey to go home and get some rest. I’ll be home later.”

Brayden frowned. “I will.”

As soon as he hung up, Charlotte and Honey pounced on him. “What happened? Are they okay?”

“Lucas and Harrison are safe. Unfortunately, DiSanti escaped.” Brayden glanced at Honey. “Harrison said for you to go home and rest.”

Honey released a sigh of relief. “I know he loves what he does, but I can’t help but worry.”

Charlotte put her arm around Honey. “Me, too. Every time Lucas leaves the house, I say a prayer that he’ll come back in one piece.”

Mrs. Hawk clapped her hands. “Well, now that we know our men are safe, how about that pie?”

Honey rubbed her stomach again. “I don’t think so, but thanks.”

Dexter went for it, but Charlotte declined, then cornered him by the fireplace. “What happened with Mila?”

Brayden reached for the bottle of scotch to pour another drink. He’d held off while they waited, deciding he needed to remain sober in case there was an emergency. He’d only served on the police force a year before deciding on law school, but he knew how dangerous the streets were.

“Brayden, tell me,” Charlotte said, an urgency to her voice that made him step away from the bar.

“Lucas arrested her. They’re taking her to the field office in Austin for questioning.”

Charlotte’s face crumpled. “I’m going. I have to see her.”

She rushed toward the coat rack in the foyer and retrieved her purse. Brayden hurried after her.

“Wait, Charlotte, I’m sure Lucas will call you.”

“He arrested her,” Charlotte said. “That’s not right. I know Mila wouldn’t help those men.”

“Apparently, she did,” Brayden said. “They were at her clinic.”

Charlotte shook her head vigorously. “No. There’s more to the story. And she’s going to need a lawyer.”

Brayden threw up his hands. He didn’t want to get in the middle of an argument between Charlotte and his brother.

“Please,” Charlotte said. “Go with me and listen to what she has to say.”

Her pleading tone sucker punched him. He didn’t know Mila Manchester. But he did know Charlotte, and his brother’s wife was one of the most honest, caring women he’d ever met.

He tugged his keys from his pocket. “All right, I’ll drive you. But I’m not promising anything.”

He explained the situation to the family and agreed to keep them posted, then escorted Charlotte to his SUV. Her shaky breathing rattled in the SUV as he drove from the ranch onto the road through town, then to the highway leading to Austin.

“Tell me about this Dr. Manchester,” he said as he sped around traffic.

She retrieved a photo of the doctor on her phone. His gut pinched.

Mila Manchester was a plastic surgeon—but she could have passed for a model. Well, maybe not a model. She wasn’t rail thin or gaunt-looking or covered in layers of makeup.

Instead she was naturally beautiful. Huge dark eyes stood out against ivory skin and pale pink lips. Her hair was a fiery dark color with streaks of red.

There was also a softness about her that made her look wholesome.

He jerked his eyes back to the road. He couldn’t get distracted by her good looks. Sometimes the lookers were shallow beneath.

Charlotte twisted her hands together. “I was born with a port-wine birthmark,” Charlotte said. “No one wanted to adopt me because of it. Dr. Manchester, Mila’s mother, did volunteer work and removed it for me at no cost.” She paused, her voice warbling. “I met Mila the day before the surgery. She was about my age but wasn’t turned off by the way I looked. I guess she’d seen worse at her mother’s practice.”

“Her mother sounds like a saint.”

“She was,” Charlotte said. “I owe so much to her. And Mila. She visited me every day at the clinic while I healed. She told me she wanted to be like her mother.”

Her story was getting to Brayden. “And you think she is?”

Charlotte nodded. “I’ve read about her work. She’s generous and caring and volunteers with Doctors Without Borders... There’s no way she’d help the Shetland operation hurt innocent girls.”

Brayden hoped she was right. Lucas’s wife had been through enough without learning that her friend was a criminal.

They lapsed into silence until they reached Austin and the field office. As they parked and walked in, Charlotte grew more jittery.

Lucas was probably going to kill him for bringing her.

But her description of the doctor had piqued his curiosity.

Harrison met them at the front door.

“Lucas is about to question her,” Harrison said.

“I’d like to observe,” Brayden said.

Harrison frowned but glanced at Charlotte and seemed to realize Brayden was trying to appease Lucas’s wife. He ushered them through security, then to a room with a viewing screen to watch the interrogation.

Brayden’s gut tightened as Lucas appeared, his hand on Dr. Manchester’s arm.

Damn. Even with her long dark hair tangled and escaping a haphazard ponytail, her clothes disheveled, and her face pale and exhausted-looking, she was stunning.

She heaved a weary breath and looked up at the camera in the corner as if she knew it was there. But she didn’t make a move to fix her hair or put on pretenses.

Instead her big brown eyes were haunted and filled with fear.

Fear that made him want to find out the truth about what had happened today. Was she helping the Shetland operation?


Chapter Three (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Mila fought tears, but they streamed down her face as Special Agent Lucas Hawk escorted her into an interrogation room.

He’d been careful to explain where they were and that she was in federal custody.

She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if Izzy and Roberta were dead or alive.

Pain mingled with panic at the thought.

If she talked, those terrible men would hurt Izzy.

Agent Hawk placed a bottle of water on the hard surface of the table in the room. She’d seen enough crime shows to know that she was being watched. That they’d record whatever she said. That they’d get her prints from the water bottle.

Sweat beaded on her upper lip and forehead, trickling into her hair.

It had been hours since she’d eaten or drunk anything. Hours since those men had broken in and threatened her. Hours since she’d started the surgeries that would enable that monster to escape.

Agent Hawk was watching her with steely eyes. Another agent named Hoover stood by the door, his arms folded, expression condescending as if he’d already tried and convicted her.

Agent Hawk’s boots clicked on the hard floor as he crossed the room. He narrowed his eyes at her as if dissecting her, then removed a key from his pocket and uncuffed her hands.

She breathed out, grateful to be free of the heavy metal on her wrists so she could reach the water. Feeling dehydrated, she turned up the bottle and drank half of it in one long gulp.

Water trickled down her chin, and she wiped at it, then glanced at her fingers. Even though she’d worn gloves during the surgery, the stench of the ugly man’s blood lingered.

“Dr. Manchester,” Agent Hawk began. “You know the reason you’re here?”

She nodded, then looked up at him, but she couldn’t stand the accusations in his eyes, so she jerked her gaze back to her hands.

He slapped a photograph of Arman DiSanti onto the table. “You performed plastic surgery on this man today at your clinic?”

She chewed her bottom lip. He knew that or he wouldn’t have arrested her.

“Answer me,” he said, his tone cold.

She gave a slight nod. What good would a lie do when he’d practically caught her red-handed?

“Arman DiSanti is the man we suspect to be the ringleader of a human trafficking ring called the Shetland operation,” Agent Hawk said bluntly. “This group has abducted dozens of teenage girls in Texas this past year.”

She willed herself not to react. But Izzy’s sweet face crying as that man snatched her taunted her. Where was her little girl now?

The agent paced in front of her, then spread several pictures on the table. “These are photographs of some of the teens abducted this year. At least these are the ones we rescued.” He named each girl, then pinned her with an accusatory look as if she was responsible. “No telling how many more victims he’s had kidnapped.”

She swallowed back bile. She knew what a horrid man he was. That was the reason she’d taken Izzy from her mother to raise her.

The agent laid another photo on the table then another and another. The first one showed a dark building with a cage in it. Blood dotted the floor.

Another photo revealed pictures of chains attached to a pole. Then another yielded a close-up of the words Help us crudely etched into the wall.

“He chained them to the wall and locked them in a cage like they were animals.” The next picture showed two young teens dressed skimpily as they stood in front of what appeared to be a camera. Both girls were glassy-eyed, drugged.

“Then he sells them at an auction like they’re cattle. That’s where he got the name Shetland for his operation.” He tapped DiSanti’s photograph. “This is the man you helped escape the law today, Dr. Manchester.” He slapped one more picture on the table, this one of a dead girl, her skeletal figure decaying.

Mila bit back a gasp.

“This is a girl named Louise Summerton. She was murdered when she tried to escape the man who bought her.”

Nausea welled in Mila’s stomach.

She fought it, but her stomach heaved. Panicked, she covered her mouth, her chest convulsing. The agent at the door must have realized she was going to throw up because he grabbed a trash can and shoved it in front of her.

Emotions overcame her, and tears rained down her face as she retched into the trash can.

* * *

BRAYDEN BROKE OUT in a sweat as he watched Mila Manchester purge the contents of her stomach.

“Look at her,” Charlotte cried. “Something’s terribly wrong, Brayden. Tell Lucas to stop this right now. I want to see Mila.”

Brayden gritted his teeth. Lucas was not going to allow that, not until he was satisfied he’d gleaned all the information from Dr. Manchester that he could. He’d been trained in interrogation techniques, taught not to allow emotions to interfere when questioning a suspect.

They’d both also been taught how to read body language. And this woman’s body language screamed that she was frightened.

Charlotte reached for the doorknob, but Brayden placed a hand over hers. “Let me handle it.”

Tears blurred Charlotte’s eyes as she looked at him. “She didn’t do this, Brayden. Tell Lucas I know she’s innocent.”

Except she had operated on the man. Had given him a new face.

She hadn’t denied that.

Charlotte lifted her chin. “Tell Lucas I hired you to represent Mila.”

Oh boy. That was not going to go over well.

“I don’t want to come between you and Lucas—”

“You won’t,” Charlotte said. “But I have to do what’s right. Mila and her mother helped so many people that it’s time someone helped Mila.”

Maybe she was right.

He stepped into the hallway. Harrison met him, his expression concerned. “Deputy outside Austin spotted the van, but men shot at him, and he lost them. Looks like they’re headed west.”

“Let’s pray they catch them,” Charlotte said from behind him.

Harrison nodded. “Did Dr. Manchester give Lucas any information?”

Brayden shook his head. “Not yet.”

“I hired Brayden to represent her,” Charlotte said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Maybe she’ll confide in him.”

Harrison’s frown was exactly the reaction Brayden expected.

“Tell Lucas I want to talk to her,” he said.

“Brayden—”

“Tell him,” Charlotte said. “Or I’ll go in there and tell him myself.”

Brayden fought a tiny smile. Lucas said the woman had spunk. He was right.

Harrison grunted, then gestured for them to follow him, and a minute later, he knocked on the interrogation room, then poked his head in. “Lucas, a word please.”

Lucas joined them in the hallway, took one look at Charlotte and grimaced. “You should have stayed home.”

Charlotte folded her arms. “I couldn’t. I know Mila, and she’s innocent.”

“We have proof,” Lucas said.

Brayden cleared his throat. “Let me talk to her.”

“This is an interrogation, Brayden. We’re trying to find the man who runs the Shetland ring.” He aimed a look at Charlotte. “You do want him to be arrested, don’t you? Because he will keep trafficking young girls unless we stop him.”

“Of course I want him to be stopped,” Charlotte said, her eyes widening in anger and surprise that Lucas would suggest she didn’t.

“Maybe you should let Brayden try,” Harrison said. “She might talk to him.”

Lucas glared at Harrison. “If he speaks to her as her lawyer, he’s bound by attorney-client privilege. What good will that do us?”

Brayden squared his shoulders. “Listen, Lucas, I’ll find out the truth. If I think she intentionally helped the Shetland group, I won’t represent her.” He gestured toward the closed door. “But I was watching what happened in there. She looks terrified. She couldn’t fake that kind of reaction when she saw those pictures.”

Lucas stood ramrod straight. “Give me another minute. If she doesn’t offer anything, then you can come in.”

Brayden agreed, and Lucas disappeared inside again. He and Harrison and Charlotte returned to the room to watch the interview.

Mila was wiping her face with a paper towel. She looked pale and fatigued and on the verge of a breakdown.

“Dr. Manchester,” Lucas said in a quiet but firm tone. “We know you performed plastic surgery on DiSanti. We just don’t know why you helped him.”

Mila rubbed her forehead, a sound of anguish coming from her, but she didn’t reply.

“We understand that DiSanti will need time to recover from the surgery. He’s well guarded by his pit bulls. Where were they taking him?”

Mila’s lower lip quivered. “I don’t know.”

Lucas’s jaw snapped tight. “If we don’t stop him, he’ll kidnap more young girls.” Again, Lucas tapped the photos one by one, his tone full of disgust. “More innocent girls who will be turned into sex slaves to build his empire and pad his fortune.”

Mila stared at the pictures, ashen faced.

“Where were they going?” Lucas pressed.

Misery darkened Mila’s expression as she looked up at Lucas. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”

Lucas stared at her for a long minute, then swiped the photographs into a stack, jammed them in an envelope and stalked from the room.

Brayden rushed to meet him in the hall, Harrison and Charlotte on his heels.

“All right, see what you can do,” Lucas said. “Finding DiSanti is what matters. Tell her we’ll offer her a deal if she talks.”

Brayden reached for the door.

“I hope to hell you’re right about her,” he heard Lucas tell Charlotte just before he stepped inside the room.

One look into Mila’s tormented eyes, and Brayden had to remind himself to be neutral. Beautiful women lied and deceived people all the time.

He had to convince her to tell him the truth. That was all that mattered. That and putting the Shetland ring out of business.

* * *

MILA TWISTED HER hands together, fighting another wave of nausea. More than anything, she wanted to tell Agent Hawk what was happening. To beg him to send someone to her house and check on Izzy and the nanny.

But if she did and DiSanti found out, they might hurt Izzy. Her stomach knotted. What if they’d already taken her somewhere?

Panic clawed at her insides. The door opened again, and the agent appeared, but this time another man stood beside him. He was also tall, broad shouldered, muscular, with thick dark hair. They had the same dark brows.

“Dr. Manchester, this is Brayden Hawk. He’s an attorney who my wife hired to represent you.”

Mila stared at them in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“My wife is Charlotte Reacher,” Agent Hawk said. “She’s outside and insists you have counsel.”

“Charlotte—is your wife?”

“Yes. We met when she was shot by DiSanti’s men.”

Oh God, that was right. She’d seen the news story. No wonder this man was out to get DiSanti. It was personal.

But he was allowing her an attorney...

Or was it a trap?

It struck her then—the attorney’s last name was Hawk just as the agent’s was. Were they related?

She scrutinized the men’s features. Yes, they had to be brothers.

Agent Hawk gave his brother a dark look, then slipped from the room. Mila’s head was spinning.

The lawyer cleared his throat. “Dr. Manchester, I know you’ve been through hell today. I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

Mila’s lungs squeezed for air. Was he really here to help her?

Could she trust him with the truth, or would telling him about her daughter being held hostage put Izzy in more danger?


Chapter Four (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Brayden studied Mila as Lucas left the interrogation room. Some clients were desperate enough to pour out their story immediately.

Others took finessing. Especially if they were afraid.

And this woman was frightened of something...

Hoping to put her ease, he claimed the chair across from her and adopted a soothing voice. “Dr. Manchester, I agreed to talk to you because Charlotte is concerned about you.” He softened his voice. “She believes in you, and Lucas and I both believe in Charlotte.”

The woman’s face twisted with emotions.

“Anything you tell me is confidential. But if I’m going to represent you, you need to explain your side of the story.”

She rubbed her forehead, then looked down at her hands on the table.

“Please talk to me,” Brayden said quietly.

Dr. Manchester sighed warily. “I already told you that I don’t know where they were taking DiSanti.”

Brayden let the silence stretch for a moment. “They didn’t mention a city or town?”

She shook her head no. “I’m sorry. I...don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Stop giving me the runaround,” Brayden said, his voice firmer. “Did you know who DiSanti was when you performed plastic surgery on him?”

Fear flashed in her eyes.

“You did,” he said, reading her reaction. “But you helped him anyway.”

She averted her gaze, then massaged her forehead again with a shaky hand.

“We know DiSanti has amassed a fortune,” he continued. “Is that the reason you did it? For the money?”

Her troubled gaze jerked to his, but she bit her lip and didn’t answer.

“Charlotte insists you do good work, that you donate your time and expertise to help people, especially children, in trouble.” He raised a brow. “That description doesn’t fit with you giving someone like DiSanti a new identity.”

Dr. Manchester pressed a fist to her mouth and breathed heavily.

“Help me out here, Doc. I’m trying to understand.”

“No one can understand,” Dr. Manchester said, a warble to her voice.

“I might if you talk to me.” Dammit, he wanted to believe her. Wanted her to be the person Charlotte described.

“Did he donate money to the clinic in exchange for a new face?”

She shook her head, misery darkening her eyes.

Brayden’s patience was wearing thin. “Did you owe him for some reason?”

She twisted her hands together.

“Come on, Dr. Manchester, I can’t help you if you don’t confide in me.” He racked his brain for answers, then it hit him. “You’re afraid. Did DiSanti and his people threaten you?”

* * *

MILA WANTED TO spill the entire story and assure him that she despised DiSanti and his men, that she’d never do anything to help them. That the entire time she’d been operating on him she’d felt sick to her stomach.

Most of all, she wanted to beg Brayden Hawk to check on her daughter.

But what if DiSanti’s men were watching?

According to the news, the police suspected DiSanti had a local contact in Tumbleweed. Who knew how many he had in Austin?

Or who they were. He might have contacts right here in the FBI or at the local police department.

She didn’t know whom to trust.

Brayden leaned across the table and pierced her with those blue eyes, eyes that were ice-cold. “Talk to me, Doc.”

She chose her words carefully. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Mr. Hawk, but I can’t.”

He cleared his throat. “Please call me Brayden. If you’re concerned I’ll tell the FBI, you don’t have to be. As your attorney, I’m bound by attorney-client privilege.”

Maybe she should talk to him. If he understood, he’d send someone to see if Izzy was okay. “He’s your brother. How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

The ice in his eyes hardened. “Because I’m a man of my word. I chose law to help people.” He leaned closer. “And I think you’re scared and that you need a friend right now.”

Emotions swelled inside her at the compassion in his voice.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the door opened and Agent Hawk appeared again. This time another man in an expensive three-piece suit stood beside him. “Excuse me,” Agent Hawk said, “but Mr. Polk, Dr. Manchester’s attorney, is here.”

The suited man strode into the room, his skin pale, his dark glare intimidating. “Dr. Manchester, don’t say another word.”

Mila bit her lip. Brayden Hawk frowned and glanced at the man, then back at her. Suspicion took root in his expression, then a flash of anger.

She gripped the chair edge with sweaty fingers.

“Dr. Manchester, is Mr. Polk your attorney?” Brayden asked.

Mila barely stifled a scream of protest. But the attorney shot her a warning look, and she refrained.

“Is he your attorney?” Agent Hawk asked.

She blinked back tears and nodded. But she couldn’t look at Brayden. She had a bad feeling that Polk worked for DiSanti and Brayden knew it.

Worse, he hadn’t come to help her. He’d come to make sure she kept her mouth shut about DiSanti.

* * *

BRAYDEN STOOD, SHOULDERS RIGID, debating how to handle the situation. Dammit, he’d been making headway with Mila Manchester until this lawyer showed up. He’d seen the agony on her face when she’d looked at those pictures and was inclined to believe Charlotte.

Dr. Manchester had been coerced into performing surgery on DiSanti. That was the only explanation that fit.

And he had no doubt that Polk had been sent by DiSanti to protect DiSanti’s interests.

Mila looked terrified of the man.

He didn’t want to leave her alone with him, but unless she spoke up, he’d have to.

Lucas cleared his throat. “We’ll let you talk.”

He opened the door and gestured for Brayden to leave.

“What the hell?” Brayden said as they walked down the hall.

Lucas ushered him into a small office next to the interrogation room.

“You know that man is not her attorney,” Brayden said. “DiSanti sent him to keep her from talking.”

Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “Probably so. But unless she orders him to get lost or decides to answer our questions, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

He and his brother locked stubborn gazes. “Can’t you charge Polk with being an accomplice or something?”

Lucas gave him a wry look. “Not without probable cause or evidence. And we have nothing on the man.”

“Then find something,” Brayden said. “Because you can’t leave Mila alone with him or release her in his custody. He may be the one threatening her.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “Did she tell you that she was threatened?”

Brayden clamped his mouth closed, frustrated. She hadn’t actually said so, but he’d seen the fear in her eyes.

“You know I can’t divulge anything she revealed to me in private.”

“Right.” Their gazes locked again, both at a standstill.

Brayden pasted on his poker face. If he wanted Mila to trust him, he had to prove he was trustworthy.

And that meant honoring Mila’s confidence.

If he’d only had five more minutes with her...

“What are you going to do?” Brayden asked his brother.

Lucas scowled. “Find out everything I can on Polk before tomorrow.”

“What about tonight?” Brayden asked.

“She’ll have to spend the night locked up,” Lucas said. “Maybe some time in a cell will persuade her to talk. If not, and Polk returns tomorrow to bail her out, I’ll have to release her.”

“She’ll face charges?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes. It may be the only leverage we have.”

God, he hated to see Mila Manchester spend the night in jail. But at least she’d be safe from that bastard DiSanti.

Meanwhile, maybe Lucas could dig up some dirt on Polk, hopefully enough to arrest him and keep him away from Mila.

* * *

MILA’S STOMACH KNOTTED as Polk settled into the chair across from her. His tight lips and beady eyes made her want to scream for help from Brayden Hawk.

At least she’d thought Brayden was sincere.

She’d promised to raise Izzy and keep her safe, but she couldn’t do that in prison.

“You work for him, don’t you?” she asked in a low whisper.

A sinister smile crept onto his face. “What did you tell them?”

She guessed that was her answer. “Nothing.”

His thick brows shot up. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said. “I have no idea how they learned he was at my clinic.”

“You didn’t tip off that nurse to call them?”

“No.” Anger made her voice hard. “I did exactly what I was told. Now, where is my daughter? Is she safe?”

He made a low sound in his throat. “What did you think would happen to her when you tried to escape at the clinic?”

Her stomach roiled, tears choking her. She shook her head in denial. They couldn’t have hurt her little girl; she had to be all right. Izzy was her whole life.

“Where is she?” she said through gritted teeth. “Did your people hurt her? Because if you did, what’s to stop me from talking to the FBI?”

“Now, now, just calm down,” the man said in a condescending tone. “Your daughter is safe. At least for now.”

Her breath rushed out. She hated this man and DiSanti with every fiber of her being. “She’s an innocent little girl,” Mila whispered. “Please don’t harm her. She has nothing to do with this.”

“But she’s important to you,” Polk said sharply. “So, if you want her to celebrate her next birthday, then you’ll cooperate.”

“I already did,” Mila said. “I performed the damn surgery. DiSanti has his new face, so leave me and my daughter alone.”

“You said yourself that there’s a risk of infection. Your services may be needed for recovery.”

He stood, and ran his hand over his diamond-chip tie clip. “I will be back tomorrow to post bond. Meanwhile, you are not to tell anyone about our conversation. And you won’t discuss DiSanti.”

He strode to the door and turned back to face her, his look ominous. “Remember what I said. Your daughter has lovely eyes and hair, Dr. Manchester. And a perfect face for now. Wouldn’t you hate for something to happen to change that?”

Cold terror shot through Mila. She pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream as he walked out and shut the door behind him.

* * *

BRAYDEN DID NOT want to leave Mila locked up in that cell tonight. For all they knew, DiSanti had someone on the inside who might try to hurt her to keep her from talking.

Unless Polk had threatened her into silence.

“Let me talk to her one more time,” he said to Lucas.

“She has an attorney,” Lucas said tightly. “And you seem to be forgetting that she’s a criminal.”

“Not if she was coerced.” Brayden gritted his teeth. “For God sakes, Lucas, don’t be such a hard-ass. Your own wife asked me to represent her.”

“I’m doing this for my wife and those girls at Mother’s and all the other teens and women DiSanti has forced into sexual slavery.”

Brayden silently counted to ten to gather his composure. On the surface, he knew Lucas was right.

But there were extenuating circumstances.

“She was on the verge of talking to me,” Brayden said. “Give me one more shot.”

A muscle ticked in his brother’s jaw. “All right. Five minutes. But then I take her to a holding cell. Maybe a night in lockup will persuade her she needs to come clean.”

Brayden agreed. What else could he do?

Lucas escorted him to the interrogation room, his expression grim. If she agreed to accept Polk’s help as her attorney, his brother’s hands were tied, too.

Brayden forced a neutral expression as he entered the room. The moment he saw the tears in Mila’s eyes though, he nearly lost it.

Ever since he’d represented his friend, who’d been wrongly convicted, and gotten him off, he’d earned a reputation for fighting for the underdog.

Mila Manchester might be fooling him. Those tears could be due to the fact that she was upset about getting caught.

Or they were out of fear.

He crossed the room and claimed the chair across from her. “I don’t think you wanted to perform plastic surgery on DiSanti, Dr. Manchester,” he said quietly. “But I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

Emotions twisted her face, and she averted her gaze from his.

“If you’re being coerced, I’ll protect you.”

She looked down at her hands, then lifted her head and her gaze met his. Emotions warred in her eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Hawk, but you can’t help me. Mr. Polk is my attorney.”

He studied her for a long minute, frustrated because he sensed she wanted his help, and that she needed it. But as Lucas said, their hands were tied.

He sighed, then stood. “All right. If you change your mind, let me know.”

She stared at the card he laid on the table, but didn’t pick it up. He waited another minute, hoping she’d change her mind, but she dropped her gaze to her hands again and remained silent.

Those hands had given DiSanti a new face so he could escape and continue spearheading the Shetland operation.

The man was despicable and needed to be put away.

If he was wrong about Dr. Manchester, she deserved to be prosecuted, as well.

Still, his gut churned as he left the room.


Chapter Five (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Frustration filled Brayden as he watched Lucas lock Mila Manchester in a holding cell.

He thought she was terrified and had been coerced. But what if her teary eyes and trembling hands were part of a well-orchestrated act?

Lessons learned in the past taunted him.

He’d been fooled once by a client’s lies. A pretty young woman who’d batted innocent-looking eyes at him and cried on his shoulder. A woman who’d used him to put her boyfriend away for a crime that she’d committed. He’d gotten her off, then realized that she was a manipulative user.

Thankfully, she’d tried her scam on another guy and been caught red-handed.

But he’d walked away feeling like a fool and had vowed never to fall for another pretty face again.

Still, the sight of the doctor’s forlorn expression as she sank onto that dingy narrow cot made his gut tighten.

He turned away and noticed the same frustration in Lucas’s scowl.

“Charlotte’s going to be angry,” Lucas said between gritted teeth.

Sympathy for Lucas swelled inside him. Charlotte had gone through hell because of the Shetland ring. She’d been injured, had lost her vision for some time and had been sick with worry about her students who’d been kidnapped. She had good reason to want DiSanti locked away.

The fact that she praised the doctor’s humanitarianism spoke volumes on Dr. Manchester’s behalf.

“What are you going to do?” he asked Lucas.

“Check out that lawyer,” Lucas said. “Maybe we can find something to charge him with and force Dr. Manchester’s hand.”

“I could talk to her coworkers,” Brayden offered.

Lucas shrugged. “You aren’t her lawyer, Brayden.”

Brayden walked beside Lucas until they reached the front door of the field office. “I know. But I might find out something to explain why Dr. Manchester performed surgery on that monster. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Lucas nodded. “I agree. I’ll get our analyst to pull up everything she can find on Polk as well as the doctor.”

“There has to be something DiSanti’s people used to force her to work for them,” Brayden said. “Maybe an indiscretion in the past.”

“Or maybe she met him when she was volunteering abroad,” Lucas suggested. “Seeing the vast needs and poverty in the underprivileged areas she visited may have driven her to accept money to fund her clinic.”

True. For Charlotte’s sake, he hoped not.

“You want me to drive Charlotte home?” Brayden asked.

Lucas shook his head. “I need to talk to her myself.”

He didn’t envy that conversation between his brother and Charlotte.

Meanwhile, he’d talk to Dexter. His PI skills could be helpful in finding information on the doctor’s clinic and her coworkers.

Talking to them might provide insight into what had driven Mila Manchester to break the law.

* * *

MILA DROPPED HER face into her hands, her body shaking with worry and fear. Where was Izzy now?

Was she safe? Was the nanny still with her? Or had the men taken Izzy somewhere else so the police couldn’t find her in case a neighbor reported a disturbance at the house?

She rose and paced the cell, her agitation mounting. The image of that man holding a gun to Roberta and Izzy taunted her. Izzy must be terrified.

She was only three. A tiny little pip-squeak of a girl with big dark eyes and an infectious laugh and an obsession with playing dress up. She loved dolls and pretending she was a princess with a tiara and poufy skirt.

But other times she liked to dig in the earth and play with worms and kick the soccer ball in the backyard.

Izzy had started a campaign to convince Santa to bring her a puppy for Christmas and had drawn pictures and cards of how she’d take care of the animal.

She liked strawberry ice cream with sprinkles and brownies and loved mac and cheese. She enjoyed making her own pizza and PB&J sandwiches. She snacked on carrots and cheese, and apples with peanut butter and wanted b-b’s, blueberries, for breakfast with her pancakes.

She hated tuna fish, turned her nose up at broccoli and stirred her green peas around on the plate to make it look like she’d eaten some when she hadn’t put a single pea in her mouth.

She was stubborn and loud and messy and got up way too early on the weekends, but Mila loved her with all her heart.

Another wave of fear washed over her.

Even if she did exactly what DiSanti’s men instructed her to do, how could she trust that they’d let her go and release Izzy and Roberta?

What if she did everything they demanded, but they killed her when they were finished?

What would happen to her daughter?

She heaved a breath, her lungs aching for air as panic seized her.

Would DiSanti keep her hostage or sell her into his sex slavery business when Izzy got older?

The thought made her so sick inside that she sank onto that thin mattress, then dropped her head down between her knees to keep from passing out.

* * *

BRAYDEN TRIED TO stay out of the way as Lucas explained the situation to his wife.

Charlotte burst into tears. “You can’t do this, Lucas,” Charlotte cried.

Lucas rubbed his wife’s arms. “Brayden offered to represent her, but this other lawyer showed up, and she deferred to him.”

“There has to be an explanation,” Charlotte said.

“If there is, we’ll get to the bottom of it.” Lucas wrapped his arms around Charlotte and hugged her, the bond between them so strong it made Brayden envious. When they pulled apart, he stroked her arms. “I’ll check out this lawyer tonight and see what I can find on him.”

He glanced at Brayden as if he needed backup, and Brayden fought a chuckle. Nothing scared Lucas more than failing his wife.

“Hang in there, Charlotte. I’m going to look into Dr. Manchester’s coworkers and see if they know what’s going on,” Brayden said.

She still looked worried, but she nodded and thanked him.

Brayden said good-night to them then hurried out to his SUV. As soon as he got inside, he phoned Dexter and explained the situation.

“I’ll see what I can dig up on her and her staff,” Dexter said.

“Let’s examine her financials,” Brayden said. “If DiSanti paid her, the money should show up somewhere.”

“I’m on it,” Dexter agreed.

“We need all the information we can gather before Dr. Manchester bonds out,” Brayden said. “DiSanti has long-reaching tentacles across the world. If Polk takes her out of the country, we may never see her again.”

* * *

MILA FINALLY LAY back on the cot. She doubted she could sleep, but she was so exhausted from the grueling hours of surgery and from worrying about her daughter that she practically collapsed.

She closed her eyes and said a prayer that Izzy and Roberta were all right. Roberta loved Izzy and would protect her if she could.

The fact that she might not be able to frightened her the most.

Polk said Izzy was all right. For now.

She had to do whatever they said. She’d give her life to save Izzy.

Carina’s young face flashed in her mind. Izzy looked a little like Carina. She just hoped DiSanti didn’t see himself in Izzy’s eyes.

She hadn’t heard from Carina since the night she’d fled in terror. Not that she expected to. But she couldn’t help but wonder if the girl was still in school, if she’d found friends or a family where she fit in.

She’d suffered so much abuse at such a young age. That kind of trauma affected most people for life. Add to that trauma the fact that she’d given birth to a baby alone, a baby born from a rape. And then she’d given that child away.

A certain amount of guilt might plague her for that decision, although she had no reason to feel guilty. She’d made the most unselfish choice she could make—she’d put her baby’s future before her own.

Had Carina been able to overcome the emotional trauma and focus on making a future for herself?

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she finally fell into a deep sleep, a sleep filled with nightmares that made her wrestle with the hard pillow on the cot.

She and Izzy were at the beach. The warm sunshine played off her daughter’s dark hair as she raced along the edge of the water. Mila chased after her, laughing as Izzy darted back and forth to dodge the waves. She loved the water and the sand and the creatures they found on the beach.

They watched a baby crab disappear into his home underground, then used plastic sand toys to dig and create a castle complete with a moat. Izzy laughed as she spilled water from the bucket all over her feet, then squealed when Mila picked her up and swung her around.

She dropped her onto the middle of a whale-shaped float, and Izzy laughed in delight as she bounced on a wave.

The next minute, Izzy was screaming in terror. The sun and ocean had disappeared, and a big man was hauling her daughter from their house. Izzy kicked and cried, but the man clamped his hand over her mouth, then tossed her in the back of a van.

Tires squealed and the van screeched away.

A gunshot sounded and Roberta ran after the van. Then Roberta was gone, and the van lurched to a stop at a dark, rotting shed somewhere in the desert. It had to be a million degrees during the day.

And frigid at night.

Desperate to find her daughter, Mila combed the desert, walking miles and miles until she fell face-first into the scorching sand. A storm surfaced, and sand swirled and swirled around her in a blur. She couldn’t see anything, not even her own hand in front of her.

Another scream. Izzy. She was lost out there in the sandstorm.

Izzy screamed again, and Mila pushed herself to her hands and knees and crawled forward.

What was that man doing to her daughter?

She had to get to her, to save her...

She was walking again, then running, her feet miring down into the sand...

Then Izzy was in front of her, her little body unmoving, the sand covering her as it raged through the air. She dug with her hands, determined to reach her, but the sand was burying her like quicksand...

Mila jerked awake, shaking and crying, her heart sinking as Izzy disappeared into the ground.

* * *

BRAYDEN LOVED THE RANCH, but he and his brothers needed privacy now they were older and busy. Still, his mother had kept rooms for them to use when they visited. Recently, Harrison and Lucas had both built houses on Hawk’s Landing for them and their wives.

Brayden and Dex also had offices in Austin. Brayden had rented an apartment above his law office, and Dex found a cabin on the edge of town that he could work out of, as well.

Brayden drove to Dexter’s, knowing he couldn’t go home and sleep right away, not when Mila Manchester’s sad eyes haunted him.

Dexter greeted him with a cold beer. His brother had a state-of-the-art computer system and was a whiz at finding information on the web. Sometimes he sensed Dex didn’t follow the rules; then again, that was the reason he’d formed his own PI agency instead of studying law.

If he crossed the line, Brayden didn’t want to know about it. So far, Lucas and Harrison hadn’t asked questions either. As sheriff, Harrison had called on Dex for help a few times. He was pretty sure Lucas had, too, but Lucas only shared information on a need-to-know basis.

Dex pressed a few keys and a photo of the doctor appeared along with articles on her services for the needy.

“Look at this,” Dexter said. “Judging from the awards and press Mila’s received, she’s everything Charlotte claims. She practically runs her own clinic and offers services pro bono for families and children in need across the country. Hell, across the world.”

Brayden’s gaze skated over the dozens of articles featuring Mila’s mother, Andrea Manchester, and had to agree.

“She’s following in her mother’s footsteps.” Dexter accessed a photo of Mila’s mother receiving an award for her Doctors Without Borders work, just a month before she died in a shooting in Syria. She’d operated on a child born with a cleft lip and cleft palate.

“I suppose it’s possible Mila became overwhelmed with the vast needs for her services and the cost, and accepted money to fund her efforts,” Dexter said. “But my preliminary search into her financials didn’t reveal anything suspicious. No large deposits, no offshore accounts.” He gestured toward another computer screen showing the doctor’s personal account then her business one. “There is an account for donations that has around a hundred grand, but it’ll take me time to sort through the ins and outs of the accounting to see if all the donations are legit.”

Brayden scrubbed a hand through his hair. Money could be one motive. But if she’d been coerced, there had to be a more personal reason. “How about family? Does she have parents, a sister or brother, anyone DiSanti might threaten to persuade her to do his dirty work?”

“Wait, this is interesting,” Dexter said.

Brayden shifted, hoping his brother had found something he could use to convince Mila to talk to him. “What?”

“Mila was adopted, although both of her adopted parents have passed,” Dexter said.

Brayden’s brows shot up. “Any information on her birth mother or father?”

Dexter shook his head. “Apparently she was abandoned as a baby. No father listed anywhere. Dr. Andrea Manchester was working at the hospital where Mila was brought in by paramedics. She and her husband adopted Mila.”

No wonder she’d wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps. “Anything on her coworkers?” Brayden asked.

Dexter shrugged. “The head nurse is a single mother named Rhoda Zimmerman. She has a ten-year-old son and lives close to the clinic.” He pressed the print button and the printer spit out a page of names and addresses. “Other employees include a receptionist, another nurse and a PA.”

Brayden checked his watch. “It’s too late tonight to talk to any of them. But first thing in the morning, I’ll get on it.”

“It’ll go faster if we divide the list,” Dexter said.

“Thanks. I’ll take the head nurse and receptionist.”

“I’ll talk to the others,” Dexter offered.

Brayden noticed a file on the desk, one that was labeled Hawk. His gaze shot to his brother, then he gestured to the folder. “What’s that about?”

A wary look flashed across Dexter’s chiseled face. “A file on Chrissy.”

“You were looking for her all these years?”

Dex nodded. “Glad that’s settled.”

Unfortunately, she was dead and had been since the day she’d gone missing.

“Guess I can put it away now.” His brother swept the folder off the desk and jammed it in the drawer.

Something about how quickly he removed it made Brayden suspicious. He could usually read his brother like a book. But not tonight.

Was Dexter keeping something from him?


Chapter Six (#u402f873b-7859-5b97-9746-6a8a7e5d8571)

Mila jerked awake from her nightmares, only to realize that she was living a real one. The dark holding cell was cold and lonely, and felt a million miles away from home and her daughter.

She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, wiping away more tears. If she lost Izzy, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Desperate to keep it together until she was released so she could find her little girl, she forced her mind to her work.

Images of former patients, children in need, their parents’ gratitude that she’d given their children a chance at a normal life, flashed behind her eyes.

Little Robin, who had a scar from falling through a window. Seven-year-old Jacob, who’d suffered abuse at his father’s hands—she’d repaired the damage to his face, although the sweet child would never get his vision back in his left eye. Tiny Sariana, whose leg had been burned in a car accident. Baby Jane Doe, who’d been left for dead in the woods and mauled by an animal.

There were other children and families out there who needed her.

But what would they think if they discovered she’d given a new face to a human trafficker so he could escape?

Carina had borne the brunt of his vile ways and barely survived.

Mila had promised to protect her baby. But she’d failed. Now Izzy was in the hands of DiSanti’s goons.

We know you helped some of our girls escape, the man who’d stormed into her clinic had said.

She massaged her temple. How had they known?

Had they been watching her? Or had they found one of the girls and forced her to talk? Maybe they’d discovered the underground ring that helped women and children and young girls escape abuse to find a better life?

Carina... Was she safe and still in hiding?

* * *

BRAYDEN WOKE TO a text from Lucas.

Bond hearing for Dr. Manchester at ten a.m.

Brayden took a quick shower, then dressed and rushed out the door. He drove to the diner near him, picked up coffee and a sausage biscuit and wolfed it down as he drove to Dr. Manchester’s clinic.

It normally opened at eight. A truck and sedan sat in the parking lot while an SUV was parked in the employees’ spaces. He spotted a woman in a nurse’s uniform at the door with an older lady holding a baby, and a thirtyish woman with a teenage boy.

“I’m sorry, folks, the clinic is closed today,” the nurse said. “Dr. Manchester won’t be here.”

Brayden hung back and listened to see if she offered more of an explanation, but she didn’t.

“We’ll reschedule as soon as I hear from her and we adjust our schedule,” the nurse said.

The lady with the baby walked toward the sedan and the young woman and teenager climbed in the truck.

Brayden approached the nurse cautiously. If she conspired to help DiSanti, he’d find out.

The nurse tacked a sign saying Closed on the door, then retrieved keys from her purse.

“Excuse me, Miss Zimmerman?”

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. “Yes?”

“The clinic is closed?”

“I’m afraid so. Did you have an appointment?”

He shook his head.

“Well, if you need one, call back and leave your number, and I’ll have our receptionist get back to you.”

“I’m not a patient,” Brayden said, then introduced himself. “Were you aware that Dr. Manchester was operating on a wanted fugitive yesterday?”

The nurse gasped. “What? My God, that’s not true.”

“I’m afraid it is.” He showed her a picture of DiSanti. “Do you recognize this man?”

The shock on her face looked real. “No, I’ve never seen him before. Why do you think he was here?”

“We know he was here,” Brayden said matter-of-factly. “You didn’t see him yesterday?”

She shook her head again. “No. And Dr. Manchester would never help a criminal, not if she knew who he was. She devotes her time to families, especially children in need.”

That was what everyone kept saying. “Maybe so, but she performed plastic surgery on him yesterday.”

A tense second passed. She shifted, then glanced through the glass door with a frown.

“What is it? You know something,” Brayden said. “Were you working yesterday?”

She nodded, her eyes dark with emotions he couldn’t quite define. “I did, but Dr. Manchester asked me to clear out the waiting room and sent me home early. She said her daughter was sick and she had to leave.”

“Her daughter?” That was news. “I didn’t realize she had a child.”

The nurse’s expression softened. “Her name is Izzy. Dr. Manchester loves that little girl like crazy.”

“Did she seem upset? Afraid?”

Her brows furrowed. “Come to think of it, she did seem a little nervous. But I just thought she was worried about Izzy.”

“Did you see anyone else here? Maybe a car in the parking lot?”

“I didn’t really notice. There could have been, but I went out the front door.” Worry deepened the grooves beside her eyes. “Why? What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Brayden said. “Sometime after you left work yesterday, the FBI discovered that DiSanti and his crew were here and stormed the clinic. Dr. Manchester was arrested.”

The nurse gasped. “My God, that’s not right. Mila would never—”

“She did,” Brayden said. “And I think she may have been threatened.”

The woman clamped her lips together, then fumbled with her keys. “I don’t know what to tell you. But I’m going to stop by her house and check on Izzy and the nanny.”

Brayden put his hand over hers. “No, I’ll go by and check on them.”

If something was wrong with Izzy and the nanny, it might be dangerous.

He thanked her, then phoned Dexter on his way to Dr. Manchester’s home address and filled him in. “She has a daughter?” Dex asked.

“According to her head nurse, yes. Her name is Izzy.”

“That’s odd. There’s no mention of them in anything I’ve found about her. Dr. Manchester must keep her personal life very private.”

He supposed he could understand that. But usually when people kept secrets, it meant they were hiding something.

“How about the father?” Dex asked.

“No information on him.” Brayden pulled a hand down his chin. “Is there any record that she was married?”

“I didn’t see one,” Dexter said.

So who was the little girl’s father? “I’m driving by her house to check on the child and nanny, then to the field office for the bond hearing.”

“I put calls in to the other staff. I’ll let you know if they add anything to what you’ve already learned.”

Brayden thanked him, then hung up and veered toward Dr. Manchester’s. She lived in a small neighborhood outside Austin, only a few miles from her clinic. He searched the area as he drove down the street. Most of the houses were renovated ranches and bungalows. Judging from the children’s bikes and toys dotting the yards, the neighborhood catered to young families. The yards were well kept, complete with fall decorations and pumpkins.

Dr. Manchester lived in a Craftsman-style house at the end of the street. Her backyard jutted up to woods and land that hadn’t yet been developed, offering privacy and a yard for her little girl to run and play.

Everything he’d learned indicated the plastic surgeon was the admirable selfless doctor that Charlotte, the nurse and the media claimed her to be.

But an uneasy feeling tightened his gut as he parked and walked up the drive. A dark green sedan sat in front of the garage, the only car on the premises. The nanny’s? Two drives down, he noted a white van, and across the street, a black Cadillac. The neighbors’?

He scanned the front porch and windows, but the blinds were closed, and he couldn’t see inside. Nothing outside looked amiss though. And he didn’t hear signs that anyone was inside.

He punched the doorbell and tapped his foot as he waited. A minute later, he raised his fist and knocked. If he didn’t get an answer, he was going to check around back, see if a window was open.

Footsteps shuffled inside. A low voice. Female?

He straightened and pasted on a smile as the door opened slightly. A short dark-haired woman peered up at him.

“My name is Brayden Hawk,” he said. “I’m a friend of Dr. Manchester’s. I stopped by the clinic to see her, but the clinic was closed today so I thought she might be home.”

“I’m afraid not. I can tell her you stopped by.” She started to close the door, but Brayden caught it with his hand.

He studied her, searching for signs she was upset or being coerced somehow. “The nurse said the doctor’s daughter was sick. Is she here?”

The woman’s eyes darted to the side, then she nodded. “In bed. She has a fever and needs rest.”

He slipped his business card into her hand. “I hope it’s nothing serious,” he said. “If you need anything, call me.”

The woman’s hand trembled as she jammed the business card in her apron pocket. “I’m sorry, mister. I need to go take care of her.” She didn’t wait for a response. She closed the door in his face.

* * *

MILA CLASPED HER clammy hands together as she waited on the lawyer to meet her before the bond hearing. Nerves bunched in her stomach, and her head throbbed from lack of sleep.

The door to the interrogation room creaked open, and Agent Hawk appeared with Polk. His beady eyes skated over her, threatening and unrelenting.

“You have five minutes,” Agent Hawk said as he glanced between the two of them. “Then it’s time to see the judge.”

“It will only take two,” Polk said curtly.

Fluorescent light accentuated Polk’s bald head. He strode toward her, then claimed the chair across from her, his lips set in a firm line.

“Is my daughter all right?” Mila asked in a low whisper.

His thick brows furrowed together into a unibrow. “As I said last night, she will be fine as long as you do what you’re told.”

“Please let me go home to her,” Mila said. “I promise not to tell anyone about yesterday. I’ve been here all night and I didn’t say a word.”

“He had a rough night,” Polk said, as if he didn’t intend to incriminate himself by saying DiSanti’s name aloud. “Once he’s on his way to recovery, you and your daughter will be reunited.”

Would she?

“How do I know you’re not lying, that you haven’t killed her already?” Mila crossed her arms. “I want proof that she’s safe, then I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Polk cursed, then pulled his phone from his pocket and accessed a photograph.

Tears choked Mila’s throat. It was Izzy in her room. The princess clock on her nightstand read 7:00 a.m. Not long ago.

Izzy was curled in bed with her pink blanket and baby doll clutched to her. Relief made her shoulders sag.





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