Hideaway at Hawk's Landing

by Rita Herron

  His heart hammered.

  Dex motioned for them to go inside, and Brayden slipped into the doorway. Dex kept his gun at the ready and went right, and they both paused to listen. A rattling sound. Wind whistling through the cracks in the windows.

  No voices. No lights.

  Still, they moved with caution in case DiSanti’s men had been here and left a lookout guy to ambush them. He followed his brother down the hall, each checking rooms on the side of the hall. Exam rooms, a surgical wing, a pharmacy with glass cabinets that had once held drugs, a recovery room, then several patient rooms, two of which still housed hospital beds.

  All empty.

  Dex motioned to another room at the end, and he inched along behind Dex, both treading quietly until they reached the room. Brayden peered through the window of the door. Empty.

  But it looked as if someone had been there recently.

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside, waving Dexter to join him. The lights were off, so he pulled his flashlight from his pocket and shone it around the room.

  Alcohol, blood stoppers and medical supplies filled a metal side table. Bloody clothes were stuffed into a bin next to a hospital bed that appeared to have recently been slept in. A sheet and blanket stained with blood were rumpled on top of the mattress, and a used syringe lay on another steel table.

  “They’re gone,” Dexter said. “Do you think they knew we were coming?”

  “I don’t know how they could,” Brayden said. “You only discovered this place today.”

  “Maybe one of them figured out that Mila overheard their conversation.”

  “I guess that’s possible.” Brayden’s hand rubbed the stuffed monkey in his pocket, and he showed it to his brother. “Let’s search the cabinets and closets in case Izzy was here.”

  Dex traded a worried look with him. If she was, and they thought Mila had ratted them out, they might have ditched her.

  He prayed that wasn’t the case, but DiSanti was the most ruthless man he’d ever encountered.

  * * *

  WHAT WAS TAKING so long?

  Mila remained hidden, but the minutes dragged by, intensifying her anxiety. Had the Hawk men found something inside?

  She turned and scanned the property for vehicles, but the place appeared deserted. Fresh tire marks marred the dirt leading up to the hospital, another set leading past the hospital to the opposite side.

  Someone had been here recently, and they were gone. But where? What lay to the south?

  She reached for the doorknob to go and look in that van herself, then remembered Brayden’s warning.

  Still jittery, she checked her phone. No text or phone call.

  She logged in to her work email and checked messages at the clinic. Not that DiSanti would send her a message there. It would be too easy for the police to check.

  Why hadn’t they called? Lucas had announced that she wasn’t cooperating.

  Maybe she should ask Brayden and Lucas to set up a TV interview where she could make a public plea for her daughter’s return. By now, DiSanti and his men could be hundreds of miles away.

  If they had Izzy with them, she might never see her little girl again.

  Panic robbed her breath. She reached for the door handle once more, but saw movement ahead.

  Brayden and his brother Dexter exiting the building.

  Disappointment swelled inside her. Izzy wasn’t with them. They were no closer to getting her back than they had been before.

  Lucas’s statement taunted her. She’d read the statistics, too. Every minute, every hour, every day that they didn’t find Mila’s daughter diminished her chances of finding her alive.

  Brayden halted by the van, opened the door and climbed inside while his brother searched the back of the ambulance. She held her breath as she waited, her patience waning when they finished and walked toward her.

  She slipped from the SUV. “Did you find anything inside?”

  Brayden’s dark expression made her stomach knot. “They were here,” he said. “There were bloody cloths and medical supplies spread out, but they’re gone.”

  Mila gestured toward the tire tracks. “It looks like a vehicle left that way,” she said.

  Dex shone his light on the tracks to examine them.

  Mila rocked back on the balls of her feet. “Brayden, was there any sign of Izzy?”

  Brayden removed something from his jacket pocket and handed it toward her. “Is this hers?”

  Mila nodded, then took the tiny monkey and pressed it to her chest.

  * * *

  BRAYDEN’S PHONE BUZZED. LUCAS.

  “Was there any clue where?” Mila asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Brayden said. “But DiSanti’s men could have taken her to another location, maybe where they’re holding other victims.”

  They’d kept Charlotte’s students at an abandoned ranch off the grid. If Izzy was with other girls, she wouldn’t be quite so terrified. Except they usually kept those girls drugged and incoherent.

  There hadn’t been reports of any abductions near Tumbleweed or Austin in the past few weeks, but DiSanti’s people might be moving victims from other states through. Or they could be playing it more low-key, taking one victim at a time, choosing from runaways or girls without families who no one would report missing.

  His phone buzzed again. “It’s Lucas. I need to get this.”

  Mila leaned against the car while he walked a few feet away for privacy.

  “Where are you?” Lucas asked.

  Brayden braced himself for one of Lucas’s big-brother lectures. But if they wanted to find DiSanti and Izzy, they had to work together, so he explained.

  “Dammit, Brayden, why didn’t you call me?” Lucas asked.

  Because he didn’t want to get his brother in trouble in case Dex and he straddled the law. “There wasn’t time,” Brayden said. “Besides, I didn’t know if it would lead to anything. I want you working your end.”

  “I am,” Lucas said. “But I can’t do that if I have to worry about you going off on your own.”

  “I’m not alone,” Brayden said.

  Lucas exploded with a string of expletives. “Dex is with you?”

  “Yes, but we haven’t broken any laws, Lucas. Dex and I just checked out an abandoned hospital. DiSanti was here, but he’s gone.”

  Lucas hissed between his teeth. “Any sign where they went from there?”

  “No, but I found a stuffed toy indicating Mila’s daughter was here.”

  “Dammit.” Lucas paused, breath wheezing out. “I heard that you paid Jameson Beck a visit.”

  Brayden clenched his jaw. “Yeah, but he’s not talking.”

  “I didn’t expect him to. But our analyst traced one of his phone calls to an old inn in a small town about thirty miles south of Austin.”

  The tire tracks leading away from the hospital were headed south.

  “Send me the address.”

  “Brayden, let me do this.”

  “Let’s meet, Lucas. If Izzy’s there, she’ll need Mila.” He lowered his voice so she couldn’t hear. “And if Izzy’s hurt or if there are other hostages, they might need medical attention.”

  A strained heartbeat passed. “I don’t like it, but you’re right.”

  He ended the call then went to tell Dexter and Mila the plan.

  * * *

  MILA TWISTED THE monkey in her hands as Brayden drove toward Cactus Grove, a small town south of Austin that drew tourists for its desertlike garden, variety of cacti and sagebrush. A local museum showcased the history of the wagon trains that used to travel through the town to Austin, and the town still boasted a working train station.

  “Is Dexter coming?” Mila asked.

  Brayden shook his head. “He’s going to check with one of his CIs.
Maybe he’ll have information that can help.”

  “Does Lucas think DiSanti’s in this town?” Mila asked.

  Brayden shrugged. “It’s possible. He traced a call from Beck to Cactus Grove. If DiSanti’s operation is using the town as a holding place for trafficking and we can connect it to Beck, then we can use it as leverage to force Beck to talk.”

  Mila fidgeted with her phone. “Why haven’t they called me, Brayden?”

  Brayden clenched his jaw. “Maybe they’re just regrouping.”

  Or maybe they’d left the country and taken Izzy with them.

  The countryside flew past as Brayden sped down the road to Cactus Grove. The wind stirred the pines and sagebrush, flinging dust across the road in a brown fog.

  As they approached the small town, traffic built slightly, although compared to Austin they were in the wilderness. They passed the train station and museum, then a newer inn in town that was decked out for Thanksgiving. At the end of the square, an old-fashioned diner and a Western saloon invited customers to enjoy a taste of days gone by. Brayden parked in front of the town stage.

  “What are you doing?” Mila asked.

  “Waiting on Lucas.”

  Mila studied the wooden platform in front of them. “What is this place?”

  “Every year the town performs a reenactment of a historical gunfight that occurred in the town a hundred years ago.”

  She tapped her foot, impatient as they waited on Lucas to arrive. A black sedan crawled by and slowed as if looking at them, then a dark gray Cadillac.

  Lucas pulled up and motioned for them to join him in his sedan. When they climbed in, Lucas gave them both stern looks.

  “I’m in charge here, so you two need to do as I say.”

  “Yes, sir,” Brayden said with a tinge of irritation.

  “I mean it, Brayden. I know you have experience, but I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”

  “I don’t give a damn about getting hurt,” Mila said. “All I want is my daughter back.”

  “That’s exactly what worries me,” Lucas said with a frown.

  Brayden raked a hand through his hair. “He’s right, Mila. When we get there, you have to stay inside the car and remain hidden. If we find something, we’ll come and get you. I promise.”

  Mila bit down on her lower lip and nodded. She’d been held at gunpoint by DiSanti’s men. She knew what it was like to be powerless. The last thing she wanted was to get her daughter hurt or to die and leave Izzy without a mother.

  Lucas started the engine, then turned onto a narrow road leading toward more farmland.

  “There’s an inn out here?” Mila asked.

  Brayden nodded. “It was the original one and catered not only to tourists, but miners who still thought they might find gold in the mines. They abandoned the inn a couple of years ago when they built the new one by the train station. Made it easier for people to walk the town.”

  They passed several abandoned small cabins and a building that had probably once been used to store mining supplies, then she spotted the inn, an antebellum house with a big porch that looked homey and quaint.

  Those abandoned buildings could be used to hold trafficking victims.

  A black van was parked in back of the inn, an old pickup near the warehouse.

  “We’ll check the inn first, then those buildings,” Lucas said.

  Brayden gave Mila a pointed look. “I meant what I said. Stay put.”

  “I will,” she said, her hand stroking the monkey’s ears.

  “If you see something, text me,” Brayden said. He shocked her by slipping a small .22 into her hand.

  She looked at the gun, not sure if she could use it. But an image of Izzy being held by that monster taunted her, and she knew she could shoot if it meant saving her daughter’s life.

  Lucas took the lead as the men climbed from the car and inched toward the inn.

  She held her breath, praying for their safety and that they found Izzy before it was too late.

  Time seemed to stand still. The tension thrumming through her made her feel sick inside.

  Suddenly her phone buzzed. She startled, then glanced down at it. Brayden?

  No.

  A text. She opened it and gasped. A picture of her little girl huddled in a dark corner, teary eyed and terrified.

  Then a message.

  If you want to see your daughter again, ditch the cops. Will contact again with instructions.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brayden approached the inn, his senses alert. Lucas motioned to let him take the lead, and Brayden did. Entering an unknown situation that could be an ambush was never his favorite part of police work.

  He’d gotten spoiled by dealing with trouble and crime in the courtroom instead of on the front line. Although the law could be frustrating at times, too.

  Seeing a guilty criminal released without being punished was infuriating and happened too often, while watching an innocent person go to prison was intolerable.

  Lucas paused to listen at the door, his brows furrowed. When he looked back at Brayden, his brother gestured that he heard something.

  Maybe someone was inside?

  He eased open the door, gun at the ready, and inched inside. Brayden peeked past him. The interior was dark and appeared deserted. At one time, this place housed tourists and travelers driving from Austin toward Mexico. It had drawn miners but also catered to cattle ranchers and horse lovers.

  Paintings of wild mustangs hung in the entryway, where the wallpaper was fading, the curtains a dull pale gray.

  Lucas swung left and Brayden went right. He scanned the dining room while his brother ducked into a formal living room/parlor that had probably once hosted afternoon tea for guests.

  The room was empty, but led to a large kitchen with a giant oak table. A case of bottled water sat on a grimy counter. Loaves of bread, canned beans and cans of soup filled a box indicating a recent shopping trip.

  Someone had been here.

  A noise sounded from upstairs, and he froze. Maybe someone was still here.

  Lucas’s footsteps echoed from the front. He must be going up the staircase. A back stairwell caught Brayden’s eye, and he headed toward it. He forced his footfalls to remain light, although the old wooden floors squeaked as he climbed them.

  He stopped on the landing and noted a large room to the right. The hall led to other rooms that had once been rented to guests.

  Lucas appeared at the opposite end, then ducked into one of the bedrooms. Brayden veered into the larger room, which must have been used as a suite. The front area held a love seat, chair and coffee table. He crept toward the inner door and thought he heard a noise coming from behind it.

  He hesitated, listening for voices, determined not to walk into a trap. No male voices. Maybe someone crying?

  His pulse jumped. Was it Izzy?

  Body coiled with tension, he eased open the door, keeping his gun braced in case one of DiSanti’s men lay waiting on the other side. Another sound. A moan.

  Crying. Definitely crying.

  Anger forced him forward, his temper rising even more when he spotted three cots in the room. Cots where three young girls lay.

  In one quick glance, he realized they’d been drugged. Two of them were either asleep or unconscious while the third, a scrawny brunette who was probably about thirteen, lay huddled with her knees up, sobbing into her hands.

  He took a deep breath, then slowly approached her. His foot made the floor creak, and she startled and jerked her head up, her eyes wide with terror.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here to help you.”

  She scooted as far as possible against the wall, body trembling, eyes red and swollen from crying. He took a step closer, wanting to check the other girls’ pulses, but she shriek
ed and shook her head wildly, causing him to stop.

  He held up his hand in a sign that he wouldn’t hurt them. “You’re okay now. I’m going to get help.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed, and he backed toward the door. He ran into Lucas in the hall.

  “There are three girls in there,” he told his brother.

  “Two more in the other room,” Lucas said gruffly. “Both drugged and unconscious.” He removed his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  Brayden nodded. “I’ll get Mila.”

  “Good idea.” Lucas walked to the door to peek in on the three girls Brayden had found, his expression grim.

  They still needed to check the outbuildings, but he’d get Mila first.

  * * *

  MILA CHECKED HER phone a dozen times, hoping for another message, but nothing yet.

  She had to do whatever DiSanti’s men said. But separating herself from Brayden and Lucas would be difficult. And how would she rescue Izzy on her own?

  If she went with them, they still might kill her and Izzy...

  A movement on the hill startled her. Brayden exited the inn. His face looked stony as he scanned the property and exterior of the outbuildings. Then he hurried toward the woods where they’d parked.

  She’d hoped he’d find Izzy, but that text had killed her hopes. If there was nothing here, maybe Brayden was ready to go. She’d have him drive her back to her place or the clinic, somewhere she’d have access to a car.

  He tapped on the window, and she unlocked the door and opened it with a shaky hand.

  “We found some girls inside,” Brayden said. “They’ve been drugged. We need you.”

  Her medical training kicked in, and she scrambled out of the car.

  “I don’t have a medical bag with me,” she said, frustrated. She always carried one in her car. She might need one when she found her daughter.

  “It’s okay. Lucas called an ambulance so help should be here soon. One girl is conscious and terrified of me. Maybe you can calm her until the medics arrive.”

  “Of course.” Mila raced beside him as they climbed the hill. “Any sign of DiSanti or his men?”

  “Just some cans of food and water, but no evidence of DiSanti or medical supplies.” His breath heaved out as they made it to the door. “No telling how long the girls have been here. This is probably a holding spot until they can move or sell them.”