Deadly Ties

by Vicki Hinze

  “You worried she’ll remember?”

  Karl frowned at Dutch, sprawled in the chair, his clothes rumpled, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. “You’d be wise to worry too. The intelligence community is involved now.”

  “Why? She’s a nobody.” Dutch clamped his jaw tight. “Forget it. I don’t care. I’ve been waiting for this for years, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it. Let her worry.” Dutch sniffed. “After all the misery she’s put me through … she’s in for life.” He gripped the chair arms, squeezed until his knuckles bulged white. “I want to know she’s suffering. I want her to have no control of anything that happens to her. And I want to know there’s nothing she can do but put up with it.”

  “We know what you want. You’ve been more than clear.” Offering her final buyer ten grand a month to post a video of her suffering on a private site … Even in a world full of deviates, that was sick.

  Hauk’s eyes looked glassy, red and rheumy. “So what if the intelligence community is involved? They won’t find her, and once she’s delivered, she’ll never get away. Even if she escaped, there’s nowhere to go. She can’t cause you any trouble.”

  Shortsighted fool. Lisa had been seven—seven—and she’d caused plenty of trouble. More resourceful than any adult ever snatched and the first and only shrub to ever get away. If she had done that at seven, what could she do as an adult?

  The possibilities were staggering.

  The truck stopped.

  Selene, Gwen, and Amanda walked in front of Lisa toward the convenience store. Lisa saw a sign on it—the same human-trafficking sign as on the other store doors.

  A memory she relived often assaulted her. She was sixteen, in Dutch’s store cleaning with her mother. He shoved a paper sign like the ones in the windows at her and shouted, “You do what I say or you’ll end up just like these people. You hear me, girl?”

  Within hours, her mother had turned her over to Susan Brandt, and Lisa’s life had changed forever. Her mother had given her up to spare her from Dutch. And, God forgive her, Lisa had been relieved to go.

  She skimmed the paper next to the sign. Lost pet. Call Nina. No phone number. Just like the others. Nina. Lisa’s skin crawled. NINA! Dutch was involved with NINA, and so were all these stores on their route. The same NINA that went after Kelly Walker was into human trafficking, and they had snatched Lisa.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. What do I do?

  “Hurry up.” Frank appeared at her shoulder.

  Lisa glanced back at the truck, memorized the tag number, repeating it in her mind, and walked on, hoping her weak knees wouldn’t fail her.

  The rest room was small but had three stalls. When the door closed behind Lisa, Gwen said, “What do we do?”

  “Nothing this time,” Lisa said, still reeling and trying to absorb all the information running through her mind. What did she trust? dismiss? What was real and true, and what was borne in fear? “No window, one door. And this clerk is as bad as the woman who hid behind the newspaper. He’s not going to help us.”

  Selene disappeared into a stall. “Obviously the clerks have been bought off.”

  Another flash. She was much, much younger. In the back of the van. Duct tape. The Spider on the phone, taking bids. He was auctioning her.

  How in the world could she forget being auctioned? Riding in the back of that stinky van day and night? One day after another until they ran together like one endless day. One long nightmare.

  Her father shot. Murdered.

  Being kidnapped. Restrained.

  Terrified and helpless. Hopeless.

  Trauma could cause her to repress, but her mother surely knew better, and she’d never said a word. Lisa twisted the metal cuff circling her wrist. Why?

  “Lisa.” Amanda snapped her fingers. “Come on, we need to move before they come in after us.”

  “Right.” Lisa refocused, rubbing her hands. Hot and yet chilled to the bone. “First chance, I’m going to make a move.” In the van, the first time she’d been abducted she’d played sick. It had worked then and, God willing, it would work now. “Just go with what I say, okay?”

  Gwen nodded.

  Amanda frowned. “Discuss first, then we act.”

  “Not okay.” Selene stood her ground. “You’re overprotective, Lisa. This is my life, and I’m not going to just pass control over it to you.” Selene, washing her hands, called back over her shoulder, “I did that with my manager and look where it got me. You’re nothing like him, but still. I’m never doing that again. It’s my choice and my decision to make.”

  “Sorry. You and Amanda are right.” Lisa was working on the overprotective thing, but she had a ways to go.

  “No problem.” Selene turned to face her. “Right now, any ideas are better than mine so I am listening. I just want to decide for myself.”

  “Understood.” This was touchy. “The more I tell you, the greater the odds we’ll get caught. Slips, body language, even rapid-eye movement signals them we’re up to something. That’s why I asked you to just follow my lead. I’m trained. It increases our odds of success. I wasn’t trying to take away your choices.”

  “Okay. I’m not trained and that sounds reasonable.” Selene snagged a towel from a stack near the sink. “But don’t take on extra risks for me.”

  Amanda added, “And don’t wait too long to do something. Who knows how many more stops we’ll make?”

  Wise advice, yet Lisa needed a little processing time. Were all these memories real? How did she tell which ones were and which weren’t? How could she be sure?

  God, help me. Show me the truth and the way.

  If it were just for her, she doubted He’d bother answering. But to spare the others, surely He would.

  Someone pounded on the door.

  Lisa jumped. So did Gwen.

  “Yeah?” Lisa called out.

  “Move it.”

  “Just a second. My stomach is upset. I don’t want to get sick in the truck.” Her plan solidified. Prepare the foundation. “Give me the ointment,” Lisa whispered and held out her hand.

  She squirted a bit on her fingertip and wrote a message on the mirror to call Mark. Please, let someone see it who will call him. Please.

  Gwen stuffed the tube down her shirt. “Let’s go.”

  They walked out and Juan dropped his gaze, refusing to look her in the eye. “Are you well, señorita?”

  Lisa rubbed her abdomen. “My stomach is upset.”

  “Move it.” Frank swept the air with a hand.

  They went back to the truck. No one around. No one to signal. Could we please catch a break? Just one?

  She put her foot on the bumper to hike herself inside.

  “Wait.” Juan rushed up and handed her a can of 7UP. “For your estómago.” He patted his stomach.

  “Thank you.” She took the can and then got in.

  Frank grabbed her arm, exposing the spiderweb tattoo on his hand. “Don’t expect special treatment, Harper. You’re a shrub now, and don’t forget it.”

  Shrub … “Time for you to become a shrub.”

  “Mom, what does that mean?”

  Arrows of icy fear streaked through Lisa. Adrenaline gushed through her veins. Shock stole her breath. It took all she had to hide her reaction. Shrub.

  The man who murdered her father, who kidnapped her from the motel room—he had called her a shrub.

  It was definitely all real.

  Oh … Lord.

  And there was more. Much more.

  She was in over her head—way too far over to ever get herself, Gwen, Selene, and Amanda out.

  I need help, God. I need Mark.

  “How’s she doing?” Mark stepped to Annie’s bedside and spared Sam a glance.

  “No change.”

  Still comatose. Still small and frail and unmoving. But the steady beep of the heart monitor, the consistent peaks on the screen reassured him. “She’s hanging tough.”

  “You bet she is, bud.”
Sam stepped back. “I’ll be back in five.”

  Mark nodded. When Sam departed, Mark hooked his little finger with Annie’s. He hoped for the tap of her finger against his, but it didn’t come, and only the monitors and the steady rise and fall of her chest assured him she was still alive.

  “Annie, you have to wake up and help me. I need to know. Is what I’ve learned what you don’t want Lisa to remember?” He plucked a loose piece of lint from her hair. “If it is, Lisa is in trouble. Human trafficking and NINA are involved, not just Dutch. I can’t connect all the dots yet, but my gut’s telling me I don’t have much time. Is Dutch connected to NINA, or did he somehow find them and hire them to do this? There’s a connection, and I need you to wake up and help me find it.”

  No movement, only silence. While he willed her to wake, she stayed asleep. “Don’t give up, Annie. We can never give up.”

  He glanced heavenward and then down at Lisa’s mother. “Since Jane, I’ve never asked anyone for anything for myself. I have no right. You know I accept full responsibility for that. But now I’m begging you for help. Lisa needs me. I have to be there for her. I can’t lose her too, Annie. I can’t fail again, and I don’t know where to look or what to do, because nothing makes sense. NINA and Dutch? What would NINA want with him?”

  “Sorry to interrupt, my boy.”

  Surprised he hadn’t noted an approach, he spun around. Nora stood out of striking distance, her eyes clouded, her face lined with worry. “Nora.”

  She gave his upper arm a gentle squeeze. “Annie would help you if she could, but she can’t. Right now, the dearie’s got all she can handle to just hang on.”

  Mark blinked. Where was Nora going with this?

  “I want you to stop fretting. There’s a time for that”—she twisted her mouth, scrunching her face—“and this ain’t it.”

  “Nora, you don’t understand.” How could he explain?

  “I’m thinking I do. You’re scared to death of failing two of the four most important women in your life. You’re scared Lisa won’t fight like they want her to and she’ll be choosing to die herself over hurting somebody else. You’ve got this weird notion you have to earn her love, when love can’t be earned. She’s got to give it, my boy, just like Christ Himself’s given you redemption by taking on the Cross.”

  She gave him a healthy nod, then stared at him over the top of her thick glasses. “I understand plenty. It’s you who don’t understand.”

  Christ had redeemed him. Logically, Mark knew it. But knowing it and feeling redeemed in your heart were two different things. And try as he might, Mark hadn’t figured out the key to the second one. “What don’t I understand?”

  “Grace, I’m thinking, but that ain’t my point.”

  “What is your point?”

  “God understands it all, and He didn’t put Lisa through all the hell she’s been through for nothing. There’s been a purpose to every bit of it. You figure out what that is, and you’ll figure out what you need to know to find her.”

  Mark stilled. Her words resonated, rich in wisdom and full of truth. Lisa standing on her own, enduring trial upon trial, learning to fight, to defend herself, learning to heal wounds—preparing for a purpose. A purpose.

  Lisa and you.

  Yes … Lisa and me.

  “Figure it out as you go.” Nora stepped closer and edged between Annie and him. “Just follow the signs.”

  “Signs. What signs?”

  “There are always signs, my boy.” She put her purse down on the floor. “Now, I’ll be staying with Annie for a time—until Sam gets back. You need to go to the consult room. Joe and the rest of the boys are there. He’s traced Dutch’s last call to a cell tower in Alabama. And Nick and Beth Dawson have found something on some security tape they want you to see.”

  Mark released Annie’s fingertip. “You stay strong.” No way was he leaving with just Nora and Jessie in the unit. Sam would be back in a minute.

  “She’s strong as an ox. Gotta be.” Nora assured him with a firm nod. “She promised Lisa lunch and shopping and that they’d get their nails done together.”

  “Those don’t sound like life-fighting promises, Nora.”

  “Maybe not to you, but to a mother who missed those things with her daughter, they’re plenty. Annie Harper keeps her word, by gum.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  Nora sniffed. “Now go on and see your team—and tell Sam if I see him eating one more bite of junk food before he eats a proper meal, I’m going to blister his ears.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “The boy should know better.”

  “I do, Miss Nora.” Sam breezed past Mark, tugging on his cap, grinning. “Look, no junk.” He held up his empty hands.

  She harrumphed. “That’s because your gut’s already sloshing with the stuff.”

  “Probably so.” He flashed Mark a wink.

  Mark walked out of the ICU feeling less helpless and more hopeful. His trials had prepared him for a purpose. “By grace, not works, we are forgiven.”

  He’d heard that just a few weeks ago in the pastor’s sermon. Why hadn’t it knocked him between the eyes then? Why did he feel poleaxed by it now?

  You have ears, but you did not hear.

  Redemption is a gift. It couldn’t be earned, but it did have to be accepted.

  Exactly.

  Mark hadn’t accepted the gift. How could he? I want it, God, but I don’t deserve it.

  He answered his vibrating phone. “Taylor.”

  “Hey, bro. What’s keeping you?”

  Joe. Mark rounded the outside desk near the waiting room and headed toward the consult room’s door. “On my way.” He was. He had hope, and he had clues.

  Signs and purpose.

  19

  T he Opp Public Library was a dark brick, one-story building with a flat white roof located on North Main Street. Glass cases held exhibits of everything from camera collections to porcelain paints and sketches by a local artist. The man was talented. Karl had an eye for art.

  He spotted Dutch Hauk at a table in the center of the room, doubled over a book as if he were reading. Sober, it seemed, and he’d changed out of his rumpled clothes into a pair of brown slacks and a crisp cream-colored shirt that hung loose on his shoulders.

  When Dutch looked over, Karl frowned. “The boss is not happy with you.” That was an understatement. Raven had been livid.

  Hauk checked for bystanders and then asked, “Why? I transferred the money. My part’s done.” He shrugged. “It’s a typical removal.”

  Karl glared at him. “Typical?”

  “Yeah.” Hauk shifted on his seat. “I disclosed everything right up front.”

  “Not exactly everything.” Karl leaned over the table and folded his hands, lacing his blunt fingers. “You didn’t tell us an army was in the village for a reunion with Annie and Lisa’s self-appointed guardian.”

  “Taylor’s friends are there. So what?” Hauk let his gaze rove the shelves of books. “They’re nothing. You got the job done, didn’t you?”

  “Taylor and his friends are Shadow Watchers, Dutch.”

  A blank look settled on his face. “What’s a Shadow Watcher?”

  Karl dropped his voice even lower. “Think highly trained, skilled, covert operatives. Think Special Operations. Think master-level spies who spy on spies. Just think, moron.”

  The color leaked from Hauk’s face. “Taylor is a spy? His friends too?”

  “Not anymore, but they were.” Karl frowned.

  “Taylor? Naw, he can’t be. He’s worked for Benjamin Brandt a couple of years. Why would a guy with those credentials take a dead-end job for Brandt?”

  “He and his friends were a team.”

  “Okay, so they used to have connections. Is that why the boss is upset? Or does she just want more money for his contract?”

  “It’s not more money.” A first for Raven. “It’s them.”

  “How was I supposed to know they
were spies?”

  “That we know you didn’t is the only reason you’re still breathing.” Karl waited for a woman clasping a little girl’s hand to walk out of earshot. “Look, let me be clear. This is our largest shipment ever—thirty units. If we don’t get the cargo out of the country without incident, it’ll be because of Taylor and his friends. That happens and, well, don’t plan on any more birthdays.”

  “Wait just a minute.” Hauk shut the book, shoved it aside. “Why? Once cargo passes through my stores, I’m out of it. The rest has nothing to do with me.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You brought specific cargo into this shipment knowing that where it goes Taylor follows. And where Taylor follows, his friends will follow. See the point?”

  “I see it, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it. Wouldn’t know ’em if I saw ’em. I can’t do anything about—”

  “Don’t say that,” Karl cut Hauk off.

  “Why not?”

  “Because if you do, I’ll have to kill you.”

  His jaw fell open.

  Karl let that sink in, then added, “You made them our problem. The boss refuses to accept it. Her message to you is they’re your problem, you fix it.” Karl stood. “Don’t dawdle. They’ve been busy since the cargo was removed. The boss is concerned they’ll create major challenges for the organization. That makes handling them your number-one priority.”

  “I can’t believe this. My problem? Mine?” He jerked back in his seat. “What am I supposed to do about them?”

  “Handle them, Hauk. Otherwise, I have my orders.”

  “A whole team of master-level spies, and you expect me, a store owner, to handle them?”

  “No, I don’t.” Karl leaned over the table. “Raven does.”

  “But I’m a client.”

  He had a point and Karl was at a loss. He sighed.

  Hauk licked his lips. “I’ll give you a million—five million—to handle it. Between you and me.”