Safe At Hawk's Landing

Her lungs ached for air. She slowly released her breath, straining not to make a sound or rustle the covers.

“Ms. Reacher,” a deep voice murmured. “Are you awake?”

She lay perfectly still, careful not to flinch or even bat an eye.

“I hate to disturb you, but my name is Gerald Ingram, I’m with the police. I need to ask you some questions about what happened at your art studio.”

He was a cop?

She slowly released a breath. But questions nagged at her. If he was investigating, why hadn’t he been with Harrison or Lucas?

In spite of her efforts at control, her breath wheezed out, shaky and rattling in the tense silence.

Being in the dark heightened her other senses. If she could see his face, she might be able to tell if he was lying or out to hurt her.

“Ms. Reacher, I know you were injured and underwent surgery, but the men who shot you kidnapped four of your students. Can you describe them?”

Tears burned the backs of her eyelids, desperate to escape. In her mind, she pictured Adrian and Agnes, and Mae Lynn and sweet Evie. What was happening to them?

If the men planned to sell them as sex slaves, hopefully they wouldn’t hurt them, at least not physically. That would mess up their product.

But the girls must be terrified.

Another nudge from the man’s hand. “Ma’am, I need a statement about what happened. Did any of the men call each other by name?”

She searched her memory. Had one of them spoken a name?

“You’re the only one who can help,” the man said again. “Please talk to me. You do want to help find those girls before something bad happens to them, don’t you?”

Anger shot through her, and she opened her eyes. Darkness. Not even a sliver of light.

“So you are awake?” he said with a hint of sarcasm to his tone. “Now, what—”

“Excuse me.” A woman’s voice echoed from across the room, and Charlotte realized the door had opened. The nurse. Finally.

“Sir, you aren’t supposed to be in here,” Haley said.

“If Ms. Reacher can identify the men who kidnapped her students, she needs to speak up.”

Rustling of clothes and footsteps sounded as Haley approached. “Ms. Reacher has cooperated with the sheriff and FBI already. She’s just undergone surgery and needs her rest.”

The man’s hand brushed hers. “Come on, Charlotte,” he said impatiently, “give me something.”

She blinked rapidly, her head throbbing with confusion, and the memory of the gunshots and girls’ cries.

A machine beeped. Her heart monitor? Blood pressure?

This time a softer hand. Haley. “It’s all right, Charlotte, it’s all right.”

“What’s wrong with her?” the man snapped. “She’s going to make it, isn’t she?”

“Yes, but you need to leave.”

“But she hasn’t told me anything,” he protested.

“And she’s not going to,” Haley said. “Now, either leave or I’ll call security.”

The man protested again.

“Now,” Haley ordered.

Emotion bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over. Charlotte hated being in the dark, and at the mercy of others.

Footsteps again, then the door closed. Her chest heaved as she breathed out.

Then Haley was back. “I’m sorry about that.”

“He said he was a cop,” Charlotte said.

“He was no cop,” Haley said with a grunt of disgust. “That man is a reporter, and not a nice one. He’ll do anything for a story.”

Charlotte closed her eyes, grateful she hadn’t said anything to him. She’d instantly felt uneasy with him.

Not like she had with Lucas. He’d made her feel safe.

The reporter’s name replayed in her head. She vaguely recalled seeing him on the news. Haley was right.

He was ruthless. Had been known to run with a story without verifying the facts or his source. Had interviewed victims of crimes before and implied they were at fault for being victimized.

What kind of garbage would he air about her?

* * *

LUCAS SCANNED THE area as he and Harrison approached the abandoned warehouses. They were only a few miles from the cave at Dead Man’s Bluff where they’d found his sister’s body.

The gruesome image of her bones lying beside two other young girls’ skeletons would haunt him forever. The fact that she’d lain there dead for almost two decades made matters worse. All that time they’d searched for her, and struggled to hold on to hope that somehow she was alive.

But her disappearance turned out to be a tragic accident. A mentally challenged boy named Elden had wanted to make friends with Chrissy, but he hadn’t realized his strength, and he’d smothered her to death. His mother had protected him. Unfortunately, Chrissy wasn’t his only victim.

Harrison’s police SUV bounced over the rugged terrain, gravel and dirt spewing.

A row of three warehouses popped into view as Harrison steered the vehicle over a small hill. A rusted-out black cargo van sat by the building.

Except this van had been burned and only the charred shell remained.

Lucas’s pulse jumped. If the trafficking ring had brought the girls here to house them until they moved them to buyers, they might have left the girls inside.

The area looked desolate, the warehouses weathered, the steel siding dingy. The Texas sun faded to night, casting shadows across the rugged land.