by Rita Herron
Lucas met them at the bottom of the stairs. “Two in the room on the end. Both have pulses, but they’re weak. I was afraid to get too close to the others and spook the one who’s conscious. Ambulance should be here in ten.”
“No sign of Izzy?” Mila asked.
Lucas shook his head. “Perhaps the girl who’s conscious can tell us something about where they were going.”
Mila latched onto that hope as she followed Brayden up the stairs. The dust, cobwebs, fading wallpaper and scratched floors were a sign that the inn hadn’t been used in at least a decade.
DiSanti had taken advantage of that just like he took advantage of everything else.
“Brace yourself,” Brayden said in a low voice. “It’s not pretty.”
“I’ve seen a lot of bad things in my field,” Mila said, although the inhumane treatment people inflicted on others never ceased to amaze—and disgust—her.
Brayden opened the door, but she motioned for him to let her enter first. The lighting was dim, the smell of sweat and urine strong. Someone had also been sick.
She breathed out, emotions welling inside her at the sight of the two unconscious girls on the cots. Both wore dresses way too short for them, which had ridden up their legs as they lay sprawled on the beds.
The third girl was shaking and crying, her arms wrapped around her knees, her fear a palpable force in the room.
“Hi,” she said in a soft tone as she slowly walked toward the teens. “My name is Dr. Mila Manchester.” She offered the frightened girl a warm smile. “My friend Brayden works with the police. We’re here to rescue you.” The crying girl sniffed and clenched her legs tighter.
“I promise, we won’t hurt you. We know some bad men brought you here, and we’re going to take you to the hospital for treatment, then make sure you’re safe.”
The girl’s face crumpled, and a wail escaped her. Mila was afraid she’d said the wrong thing, but she didn’t have time to second-guess herself. No telling what DiSanti’s cronies had done to the young girl.
She approached the cots where the two unconscious girls lay, hair spilled on the pillows, bodies limp. At first glance, they didn’t appear to be breathing. She stooped between the two cots and gently pressed her hand to the first girl’s cheek, a sandy-blonde girl with pale skin and freckles. Her skin felt cold and clammy, and she didn’t respond. Mila checked for a pulse and was relieved to find one, although, as Lucas reported on the other two teens, it was weak.
She gave Brayden a quick nod to indicate the girl was alive, then turned to the other, an auburn-haired girl. Bruises darkened the pale skin beneath her eyes and covered her legs. One arm dangled from the side of the bed, while the other hand clutched the sheet to her as if she was fighting to cover herself and preserve her dignity.
Mila checked for a pulse, then breathed a sigh of relief that she had one. Gently, she stroked the girl’s cold cheek with the back of her hand. “Hang in there, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay.”
Anger churned in her belly at what these girls had endured. They had to survive.
All the more reason to save Izzy. If not, and DiSanti killed her and kept Izzy alive, she might end up like these teenagers. That was not going to happen to her daughter, no matter what she had to do.
Satisfied the girls were breathing, she turned her attention to the brunette staring at her with terror-glazed eyes.
“Hey, sweetie, I told you my name is Dr. Manchester, but you can call me Mila.”
The girl clamped her teeth over her lower lip and simply stared at her with distrust.
Who could blame her? She had reason not to trust.
Mila offered her a sympathetic smile. “Your friends, the other girls here, they’re alive, and I’m going to make sure they receive medical treatment.” And psychiatric help if needed.
“I understand that you’re scared,” Mila said, inching closer. “But everything’s going to be all right. You’re never going to have to see those bad men again.”
The girl’s breath hitched.
Mila offered her another smile. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
The girl gave a wary nod, then whispered, “Keenan.”
“Hi, Keenan, it’s nice to meet you. Like I said, my name is Mila. I’m a doctor. Can you tell me how you ended up here?”
The girl whimpered. “They took me...from the shelter,” she said in a raw whisper.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” She patted the girl’s thin hand. “Do you have some family I can call? A mother? Father? Grandparent?”
Keenan shook her head no. “My grandma took me to the shelter when we got evicted, but she was sick...and she didn’t make it.”
“Do you remember the name of the shelter?”
The girl rubbed her forehead, then shook her head. “No, it was late, and I was so upset over Granny that I didn’t pay attention.”
“Shh, it’s all right now. I promise I’ll take care of you.” She reached out and patted Keenan’s thin shoulder, relieved when the young girl didn’t jerk away. “I think you were drugged. Am I right?”
Another nod.
“Do you have any idea what they gave you?”
Keenan shook her head no.
“Was it in your food? Or did they inject you?”
The girl held out her arm. Mila gritted her teeth at the sight of the needle marks. Fury mushroomed inside her.
The sound of a siren wailed from outside, and Brayden stepped back into the room and motioned that the ambulance had arrived.
“The paramedics are going to transport you and the other girls to the hospital,” Mila said.
Fear flashed in Keenan’s eyes, and she clutched Mila’s hand, her ragged nails digging into Mila’s palms.
Mila’s heart ached for her. “I’ll go with you,” Mila promised. “And I’ll stay with you every step of the way.”
The girl nodded vigorously, tears trickling down her cheek. Fear streaked her face as she glanced at the door. “They’re coming back for us,” she said on a sob.
Mila glanced at Brayden, then squeezed the girl’s hand. “They won’t find you, I promise. Brayden’s brother is with the FBI.”
Brayden murmured that it would be okay, too. “We’ll post someone here and catch them when they return,” Brayden assured her.
Mila inhaled a deep breath. “Keenan, the men who brought you here and drugged you work for another man named DiSanti. Does that name sound familiar?”
Keenan gave a small shrug. “Maybe.”
Mila patted her arm. “I need to ask you one more question.” She removed her phone and showed her a picture of Izzy. “I think those same men kidnapped my little girl. She’s only three and her name is Izzy.”
The girl’s eyes widened, and she gasped for a breath, as if she was having a panic attack.
Panic clawed at Mila. “Did you see Izzy? Was she here?”
Chapter Sixteen
Mila felt as if her heart stopped beating. “Keenan, have you seen this little girl?”
The young girl wiped at her tears with the back of a bruised hand and gave a little nod.
Mila’s pulse jumped. “Was she here?”
The girl nodded again.
Mila swallowed back a sob. “Was she okay? Was she hurt?”
Keenan’s look softened. “She was scared, but Jade took care of her.”
“Jade?”
“She was one of us,” Keenan said. “She kept the little girl close to her, and told the men to leave them alone.”
Relief lightened Mila’s fear for a millisecond. At least they hadn’t hurt Izzy. Not yet.
But Lucas was searching the outbuildings now.
She held Keenan’s hand again, warming it between her own. “When did they leave you here?”
“This morning.”
Damn. I
f they’d only gotten here sooner...
She straightened. She had to focus. “Was Jade with Izzy when they left?”
Keenan nodded. “The little girl was clinging to her.”
Emotions throbbed inside Mila’s chest. “Did the men say where they were going?”
The young girl rubbed her forehead again, her eyes crinkling. “No...at least I didn’t hear them.”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, then Brayden appeared with two medics.
Mila patted Keenan’s hand and stood. “It’s going to be okay now. Hang in there, sweetie.”
Mila hurried to meet the medics and watched as they began taking vitals.
“Let’s get them to the hospital stat,” Mila said. “I want a full blood panel to identify the drugs they were given, also rape kits and full body workups.”
The next few minutes were hectic as the medics carried the teens to the ambulance. Keenan was weak, but seemed to be stronger now that she realized she could trust Mila, and insisted she could walk. Mila helped her down the steps and outside.
Lucas and Brayden met them at the ambulance.
“Nothing in the outbuildings,” Lucas said.
Brayden touched her elbow. “Did the girl tell you anything?”
Mila whispered to Keenan to climb in the ambulance and assured her she’d ride with her. But first she had to talk to Brayden. “Keenan said Izzy was here. A girl named Jade was taking care of her, protecting her from DiSanti’s men.”
“Any idea where they went?” Brayden asked.
“I’m afraid not. But they just left this morning so maybe they haven’t gotten too far,” Mila said.
Brayden stepped to the back of the ambulance. “Keenan, did you see what kind of vehicle the men were driving when they left?”
The girl shook her head. “They put us in a white van.”
They’d used white vans before. So generic, dammit. “I’ll ask Lucas to have their analyst check traffic cams on the highways near here.”
Mila checked her phone again.
Still nothing.
Frustration knotted her stomach, but she climbed in the back of the ambulance.
She’d help Keenan and the others while Lucas searched for the van.
* * *
LUCAS CALLED A crime scene team to process the house and property, then Brayden and his brother followed the ambulances to the hospital.
The staff rushed the girls to the ER, and Lucas spoke with the doctor on call to request rape kits for the victims, although the doctor reported that Mila had already requested the exams be done. Keenan became upset at the idea, but Mila soothed her and promised to stay with her every step of the way.
The next hour dragged by as they waited on tests and for the girls to regain consciousness. Lucas checked in constantly with his people, hoping for word on the van or DiSanti.
Brayden phoned Dexter to relay the latest events.
“I’ve been digging into locals who might be involved in this trafficking unit. Lem Corley is on Lucas’s short list,” Dexter said. “Word is that he’s retired and hired a cowboy out of El Paso to run the cattle ranching business. He’s also bought up property near the Mexican border in Juarez.”
“We know that. Do you have anything new?” Brayden asked. “What about his financials?”
“Corley has a hefty savings, but he could argue that he’s built that from the cattle operation.” Dexter paused. “I found an offshore account with a couple million in it. There’s no indication that his business pulled in that kind of money.”
Brayden chewed the inside of his cheek. “That is suspicious.”
“Could be drugs,” Dexter said.
“Or he could be shuffling young women across the border for DiSanti.” Brayden glanced at Lucas, who was talking to one of the nurses. “Send me the address for the ranch near Austin. We’ll talk to Corley once we finish here.”
“Copy that. I’ll keep digging and see if I can find out more on that property in Juarez.”
Brayden thanked him, then hung up and joined Lucas.
“The girls are traumatized,” the doctor said. “Two of them regained consciousness, but they’re terrified and not talking. I’ve requested a psych exam and counselor.”
“Let me call my wife, Charlotte,” Lucas said. “You may remember her from a few months ago when her art therapy studio was invaded and four of her students were abducted.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, I was glad to hear that they were all found alive and safe.”
“We think the man who orchestrated their abduction spearheaded the Shetland operation,” Lucas said. “We also believe he’s behind the trafficking ring that was holding the five victims here hostage. It’s imperative I speak with them when they regain consciousness. They might be able to give us a lead as to where the ringleader went.”
“I understand, but as I said before, these patients are severely traumatized. They need rest, medical treatment and therapy.”
“My wife, Charlotte, can help,” Lucas insisted. “She’s an art therapist and has experience with DiSanti’s victims. These girls might feel comfortable with her and open up.”
“Excellent,” the doctor said. “The other girls are stable, but were heavily medicated, so it may be hours before they become lucid.”
“When they do, I want Charlotte to talk to them,” Lucas said. “A little girl is missing and is in the hands of the leader of the trafficking ring.”
The doctor wiped perspiration from his brow. “Of course.”
Lucas thanked him, then stepped aside to call Charlotte. Mila appeared at the entry to the waiting room, looking worried and exhausted.
Brayden rushed toward her. He wanted to hold her, to promise her everything would be all right.
“Keenan is finally calmer and sleeping,” Mila said.
“Was she able to tell you anything else?” Brayden asked.
Mila shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Unfortunately she was pretty incoherent when the men were around.”
Brayden’s heart went out to the girl and to Mila. She was a gutsy, strong woman. Even though she was terrified for her daughter, she had compassion for these victims.
“The doctor said two of the girls have regained consciousness. Maybe they can help.”
Mila’s eyes darkened with concern. “I hope so.”
Brayden couldn’t resist. He pulled her up against him and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s going to be okay, Mila. We’ll find her.”
Her heavy breathing punctuated the air. He thought she might pull away, but she laid her head against his chest and seemed to give in to her own needs for a moment. He rubbed her back, rocking her gently in his arms. When she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, the agony in hers nearly sent him to his knees.
“Keenan is so lost,” Mila said. “I don’t know if she’ll ever truly recover. Or the others.”
He offered a smile of encouragement. “It may seem like that now, but I’ve seen the progress Charlotte’s students have made these last few months. It’s amazing. With her help and my mother’s love, they feel secure now and are moving on, even looking forward to the future. They have a family, even if it’s not the one they were born to.”
Mila bit down on her lip, then pulled away.
“Did I say something wrong? You don’t think that my mother could love them like they’re her own?”
Mila stiffened. “Of course I believe that. I was adopted myself.” She thumbed a strand of hair away from her cheek. “You said two of the girls are awake now. I’d like to talk to them.”
“I know. So would I, but the doctor asked us to wait. Lucas is calling Charlotte to come and counsel the girls. Maybe you and Charlotte can talk with them together.”
Mila nodded. “Yes, I’m sure they need a counselor after what they’ve been through
. And I promise not to push them too hard. I want what’s best for the girls, too.”
She was the most unselfish woman Brayden had ever met. He was falling for her.
That thought should have shaken him up.
But for some reason, in the midst of the ugliness surrounding him, it felt right.
“Charlotte is on her way.” Lucas’s commanding voice forced Brayden to put his personal thoughts on hold. He jerked his mind back to the case.
“Dexter sent me GPS coordinates for Lem Corley’s ranch. He checked Corley’s financials and found an off shore account with a hefty amount in it. He’s also looking into his property in Juarez.”
“It’s near the border,” Lucas said. “We have an agent investigating it.”
“He could be helping DiSanti move victims across the border into Mexico.”
A muscle ticked in Lucas’s jaw. “I’m going to talk to him now.”
Brayden cleared his throat. “I’ll go with you.” He glanced at Mila. “That is, if you’ll be okay here for a while.”
Mila clasped her hands together. “I’ll be fine. I want to stay with the girls until they’re out of the woods.”
* * *
MILA MEANT WHAT she’d told Brayden. But even as she’d assured Keenan she was safe, all she could think about was Izzy and what was happening to her.
If DiSanti could possibly have figured out that she was his child.
She prayed not, that her secret was safe.
She’d die before she’d let that bastard know he had a precious little girl. Izzy belonged to her.
She went to the vending machines, bought a cup of coffee and carried it back to the waiting room. Charlotte was just coming in the door when she arrived. She made a beeline toward Mila, then embraced her.
They were both a little teary when they pulled away.
“Lucas said that one of the girls saw Izzy. That’s good news, Mila.”
Mila forced a smile, although her heart wasn’t in it. “That’s been hours though.” It had been hours since that text message too and still no word of what she should do.