Hideaway at Hawk's Landing

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Hideaway at Hawk's Landing Page 4

by Rita Herron


  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

  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 f
ocus 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.

 

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