Safe at Hawk's Landing

by Rita Herron

  The urge to pull her in his arms again teased him, but he fought it off.

  He didn’t want her to worry that he’d start pawing at her again.

  “Call me if you need anything, Charlotte.”

  She felt her way to the bed, and starting turning down the quilt. “Thank you, Lucas.”

  He stared at her for a long minute, soaking in her beauty and strength.

  “Good night, Charlotte,” he said gruffly.

  “Good night, Lucas.”

  Having her in his house, sleeping in his guest room, seemed more intimate than he could ever imagine.

  But he forced himself to give her privacy and left the room.

  * * *

  CHARLOTTE HADN’T THOUGHT she’d sleep, but fatigue and her surgery worked a number on her and she fell fast asleep.

  The next morning, as she stretched, she realized she hadn’t had nightmares. She’d felt safe in Lucas’s house.

  But with no word from the girls, she didn’t want to get up and face the day.

  Depression...she understood its call. She’d felt it before.

  She had to fight its strong pull.

  She rubbed her eyes and blinked, praying that a miracle had happened while she slept and her vision was restored, but no. A flash of light maybe. But then everything went dark again.

  Heaving a weary sigh, she forced herself to sit up and mentally orient herself. The bathroom—which way was it?

  Frustration warred with the need to talk to Lucas and see if he’d heard any news.

  Courage fortified, she slid her legs to the side of the bed, retrieved her cane and mentally focused on finding her way to the bathroom. A quick wash of her face, and she remembered to throw on a shirt over her tank top, then felt her way to the door.

  The cabin was quiet. But the scent of coffee wafted toward her, and she followed it to the kitchen.

  She paused, unsure what to do. She kept her mugs on the counter by the coffeepot. Where did Lucas keep his?

  Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. She was not going to cry over something as unimportant as a cup of coffee when her students’ lives were so much more important.

  She felt along the counter, hoping to find a coffee mug, but the sound of the door screeching startled her.

  She froze. Lucas?

  “It’s me,” he said earning a smile of relief from her. “I went for a run earlier and showered. Just got off the phone with the deputy. He’s doing well, went home last night so that’s a good sign.” A pause and he was walking toward her. “I didn’t know if you were a coffee drinker or tea, but I’m addicted to coffee myself.”

  She relaxed, grateful for his attempt to provide some normalcy to her morning.

  He took her hand, and she tensed, fighting the need to lean into him. Lucas certainly wasn’t trying to seduce her, but she was seduced by his smell, his voice. His protective, caring touch.

  * * *

  LUCAS SUCKED IN a breath, mentally wrangling in his desires as he moved Charlotte’s hand along the counter to the cupboard and his mugs. He could simply get her a cup, but for some reason, it was important to him that she be able to find her way in his house.

  Maybe he wanted her here more often...

  His phone buzzed.

  Thank God. He needed work, not to be alone with Charlotte. He hadn’t slept more than an hour for wanting her in his own bed.

  “I need to get this. It’s Keenan.”

  “All right.”

  He poured her a cup of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  He handed the cup to her, then connected the call.

  “We identified the man at Ms. Reacher’s house. His name is Damarus Morez. He showed up in the international database. He’s wanted as a suspect in several teenage abductions in Mexico.”

  “What else?”

  “We’ve linked him to a trafficking ring that may have ties in Austin.”

  “Any specifics?”

  His phone beeped in with a text from his brother Dexter. His PI business in Austin had been a help more than once.

  Been researching the sex trafficking in the city. May have a lead. An auction is happening tonight.

  Lucas’s pulse jumped. The idea of an auction sickened him.

  But it might be just the lead they needed to catch this damn trafficking ring and find the missing girls.

  * * *

  EVIE WAS BARELY holding it together. She’d lost track of time. They’d been taken two days ago, or was it three or four? Time was all running together.

  Her head felt fuzzy from whatever drug they’d forced into her water. So far they’d moved them to two different locations. The first one, that farm, she thought it hadn’t been far from Tumbleweed. She’d scratched the words Help us on the wall, hoping someone would find it and hunt for them.

  She and the others had been kept in the back of the van when they were driving, but there were no windows, so she couldn’t see out. She’d listened for sounds of other cars or a city, maybe a bus or train station.

  But the van seemed insulated from the sounds outside, and she’d been so tired from the drugs that she’d lost consciousness.

  Mae Lynn had that desolate look on her face, as if she’d checked out of the world. She didn’t fight or talk or ask questions like Evie did.

  They were moving again. She’d heard them talking and they had something planned for later tonight. Something big.

  Nerves clenched her stomach into a knot. It didn’t sound good.

  The van bumped over a pothole and tossed her to the side. She tried to catch herself, but her head hit the metal interior. It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. She was bruised and banged up from their rough handling and the ride.

  Tires screeched and the van swerved again. She looked over at Adrian and Agnes. They were awake, clinging to each other. Mae Lynn seemed most affected by the drugs, or maybe she just wanted to sleep so she didn’t have to face what was happening.

  Evie wanted to sleep, too. But she knew better. Sleeping wouldn’t stop anything bad from happening. She wanted to be alert, strong, ready to fight if she got the chance.

  The van suddenly slowed, gears grinding. Another bump then they turned right and screeched to a stop. Adrian looked at her, wide-eyed.

  “What’s happening?” Agnes whispered shakily.

  Evie held her breath. Their wrists were still bound with zip ties. As much as she’d struggled and tried to break them, she couldn’t. Her wrists were bloody from her efforts, a fact that had amused one of the brutes.

  The back door opened. Was this one of the bathroom breaks they allowed them? So far, they’d only let them out at isolated areas, where there was nothing around them.

  No place to run or hide, or way to call out for help.

  She gritted her teeth as the biggest of the men, the animal who’d shot Ms. Charlotte, glared at her. His toothy grin gave her the creeps.

  They’d left their masks off the last two times they’d opened the door. She knew what that meant. They wouldn’t let her or the other girls live to identify them.

  Adrian and Agnes shrank back as he climbed inside. He gave them an odd look then came toward her. Evie bit her tongue. She wanted to kick out at him, but she’d tried that already and gotten a double dose of drugs for it. Besides, he was over two hundred pounds, all muscle and ugliness.

  He snatched her arm. “Come on. Time to say bye-bye to your friends.”

  Evie gasped as his fingers closed around her arm in a viselike grip. “Why are you separating us?” she asked.

  “We have a special place for you.” His nasty chuckle reverberated through the van as he dragged her to the edge.

  “No, don’t take her!” Adrian cried.

  “Ple
ase keep us together,” Agnes shouted.

  He ignored them and dragged her out of the van. Her friend’s screams echoed behind her as he shoved her inside the back of another black cargo van.

  He slammed the door shut and she huddled in the dark corner, alone and terrified that she’d never see them or Ms. Charlotte again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I have to go to Austin, Charlotte. My brother, Dexter, thinks he may have a lead on the trafficking ring.”

  Hope bubbled in Charlotte’s chest. “He knows where Evie and Mae Lynn and Agnes and Adrian are?”

  Lucas shifted, hesitating long enough to indicate he didn’t have the answer she wanted. Odd, even without her vision, she felt connected to him.

  She understood the nuances of his voice and movements.

  “He didn’t mention them specifically.”

  Charlotte sighed. “Then what did he say?”

  Another hesitation.

  “Tell me the truth, Lucas. I may not like it, but not knowing is just as difficult.

  “I can’t bear to think that you’ll lie to me or keep information from me.”

  Lucas stepped closer, captured her hand in his. “I won’t lie to you,” he said, his voice gruff, full of conviction. “You’re too deep in this. You deserve to know the truth.”

  “The scenarios that keep playing in my mind are too horrible to say out loud.”

  “I understand. All the years my sister was missing, my family was plagued by nightmares of what might be happening to her. Finding out she was dead was terrible, but at least we could give her a proper burial and finally grieve for her.”

  Charlotte nodded. He did understand. “So what is the lead?”

  “Dexter’s a PI. He’s made a lot of contacts on the streets. He’s heard chatter about an auction tonight outside Austin.”

  Charlotte’s stomach roiled. “An auction? You mean to sell the girls?”

  A pained heartbeat passed. “Yes. He’s trying to set us up as potential buyers.”

  “My God.” She touched Lucas’s arm. “It sounds dangerous.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Please be careful.”

  He pressed a kiss to her hand. “I’d like to take you to the main house to stay with my mother while I’m gone.”

  “Lucas, I don’t want to endanger your mother.”

  “These men have no idea you’re at Hawk’s Landing. Besides, the ranch hands will watch out for anyone coming onto the property.”

  Charlotte didn’t want any of his men to get hurt protecting her. But she also didn’t want to be alone again.

  “Come on,” he said. “You’ll like my mother. And I found a kitten that I brought to the ranch. You can help her with that.”

  Charlotte knew he was trying to distract her from thinking about the auction and from worrying about her students.

  Nothing could keep her from thinking about them, though.

  She wouldn’t rest until they were found safe and sound.

  * * *

  LUCAS HAD NEVER taken a girl—woman—home before.

  Not that Charlotte and he were in a romantic relationship. They weren’t.

  She was a job. A witness to a crime and he needed to protect her.

  Still, it felt odd introducing her to his mother.

  Harrison sent a text saying two of the ranch hands he’d recently hired would be watching the entry points to the ranch and that Brayden would watch the house.

  Harrison had also instructed Honey’s building crew to be on the alert for any strange men lurking near her job sites.

  He doubted the kidnappers had made a connection to Honey, but they couldn’t be too careful.

  This trafficking ring was broadly spread and might have contacts in town or nearby.

  He hated like hell to think that one of Tumbleweed’s own residents would engage in sex slavery, but it was possible.

  “Will you be back tonight?” Charlotte asked.

  “I should be. If not, you can stay in the house with Mom.”

  Charlotte massaged her temple. Her stitches were healing, but she still had visible bruises and discolored skin from the attack.

  Seeing the bandage where she’d been shot had done something to him, made him furious and more determined to find the bastard who hurt her.

  “I hate to impose on your family,” Charlotte said.

  “You aren’t imposing. My mother gets lonely now we all have places of our own.”

  “But you’re close by,” Charlotte said.

  “True. And we all have dinner together once a week. Mom insists.”

  “That sounds nice,” Charlotte said. “I can’t imagine having a close-knit family.”

  “There’s been tension over the years,” Lucas said. “My brothers and I felt responsible for Chrissy’s disappearance. We tried to make it up to Mom, but nothing can take the place of a missing or lost child.”

  Emotions clouded Charlotte’s face, and Lucas wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

  He led Charlotte to his SUV and drove the short distance to the ranch house in silence. When he parked, he came around to the passenger side and helped Charlotte from the car.

  “There’s a porch with five steps leading up to it.”

  Charlotte nodded and took his arm. The gesture made his chest squeeze. At least she was beginning to feel comfortable with him. Beginning to trust him.

  He couldn’t let her down.

  * * *

  CHARLOTTE SWALLOWED HER pride and held her head high as Lucas guided her up the steps and into his family’s house.

  Honey had told her a lot about the Hawks, how Mrs. Hawk had disliked her when she was growing up, had thought she wasn’t good enough for the Hawk family.

  Charlotte had decided then that she detested the woman. Honey was the sweetest woman and best friend she’d ever had.

  But Honey had insisted that she and Mrs. Hawk had a long talk, and had come to an understanding. That now Mrs. Hawk treated her like a daughter.

  Footsteps clicked on floors that were made of wood. The scents of cinnamon and vanilla wafted to her, wind chimes from the porch tinkling as Lucas closed the front door.

  “Lucas, I’m so glad you came by.”

  A second passed, and she felt movement, then realized Mrs. Hawk must be hugging her son.

  A second later, she shook Charlotte’s hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Charlotte. Honey and Harrison have talked about you for months.”

  The woman’s skin was soft, her voice low, melodic. “I’m so sorry, dear, for what you’ve been going through.”

  Emotions flooded Charlotte. “Thank you. I told Lucas I don’t want to stay here if it’s going to put you in harm’s way.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. Hawk said with a light laugh. “I have four sons and trust all of them to keep us safe.”

  Something soft brushed against Charlotte’s leg. Then she heard a tiny purring sound.

  “Sandstorm likes you.”

  “Sandstorm?” Charlotte said.

  “The kitten Lucas brought home.”

  Lucas brushed her arm, then placed a tiny fur ball in her arms.

  Charlotte smiled and hugged the little creature. As a child, she’d always wanted a pet, but it was painful to get attached and then to be separated by a move. Her last foster parents claimed they didn’t have money to feed stray animals when they had enough stray kids to care for.

  “Come in the kitchen with me and let’s let Lucas get going.” The woman wrapped her arm around Charlotte’s shoulders, and Lucas murmured that he’d be back later.

  She prayed he’d return with the missing girls.

  * * *

  LUCAS MET DEXTER at his PI office on the edge of Austin.

 
As a teen, he and Harrison had worried about Dexter. He’d been rebellious and angry and made their family life hell.

  The third and last time he’d skirted trouble with the law, he and Harrison had a long hard talk with him.

  They hadn’t bailed him out of jail. Instead, they’d let him stew for a week. Their mother had been furious at them, but Dexter had started down a road to destruction and they were desperate to steer him back on track.

  When he finally got out, Dexter had been forced to do community service. Working at a teen community center for troubled boys had woken him up.

  He’d balked at college and when Harrison suggested he study law enforcement, he’d resisted. Dexter didn’t want to play by the rules.

  He liked to make them and break them.

  But at least now, he was working on the right side of the law. As long as he didn’t bend the rules too far, he and his brothers kept their mouths shut.

  Last year he’d even tracked down a drug lord targeting kids as young as eight.

  Dexter met him at the door to his office. “Come on in and I’ll fill you in.”

  They both grabbed coffee from the credenza in his brother’s office.

  “What exactly did you hear?” Lucas asked.

  “Chatter about a new shipment,” Dexter said. “My source said the code word for the operation is Shetland.”

  Lucas gritted his teeth. “Like the Shetland cattle ranch where we found a carving made by one kidnap victim.”

  Dexter nodded. “Word is there’s an auction tonight at nine. A private select few clients will attend. All wealthy.”

  “All looking to buy sex slaves,” Lucas said in disgust.

  “Exactly.” Dexter opened a closet in his office and pointed out two men’s suits. Expensive. Designer.

  “We have to play the part.”

  “You got us an invitation?” Lucas asked, impressed.

  “Damn right.” Dexter handed Lucas a folder. “Here’s your cover story. You are—”

  “Blaine Thorpe, entrepreneur and multimillionaire.”

  His brother had thought of everything. He just hoped the plan worked.

  * * *

  CHARLOTTE NIBBLED ON the most delicious cinnamon roll she’d ever tasted. Lucas hadn’t mentioned that his mother was an excellent cook.