by Lisa Harris
“So this is probably about someone who believes you’re getting in the way of what they’re doing?”
She nodded. “I know what they can do, Levi. They won’t hesitate to kill my father if I don’t do what they say. Or kill me if they don’t get what they want. Three months ago, one of our girls was found dead. The authorities concluded it was an overdose, but I never believed that. She’d been clean, happy and was doing well in our program. I talked to her the day before she went missing. She was excited about her future. I’ll never believe she simply went back willingly to the men who’d trafficked her.”
Levi caught her gaze and held it. “Like your sister, Lilly?”
Kayla took a sharp intake of breath at the mention of her sister.
“I’m sorry, I just know how personal this must be—”
“No,” she said. “It’s fine. I just... I miss Lilly so much. Next week is the seventh anniversary of the day we found her. Sometimes it still seems unreal. And Mercy...she reminds me so much of my sister. Funny, outgoing...”
Her mind shifted momentarily to the day the FBI came to their door to tell them they’d found Lilly’s body. The moment that had erased any hope they’d find her alive.
“I only know what my mother forwarded to me via the local news,” Levi said, “but it was enough for me to know how painful it had to have been for you. And in turn how personal all of this is. I sent you a letter after Lilly’s funeral. I don’t know if you ever got it, but I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Praying for your family. I know I can’t begin to imagine what you all were going through.”
She sat back down in the living room chair, her thoughts switching to the pile of envelopes that had slowly stacked up after her sister’s disappearance. There had been hundreds of cards from friends and family. “I do remember. Yours was one of the few handwritten letters. I hope you didn’t take it personally if we didn’t respond. There were so many cards and messages. First around the time of her disappearance, then a few months later at her funeral. I was just trying to keep my family together.”
“I didn’t mention the letter to make you feel guilty. I just wanted you to know that I had been thinking about you and your family.”
“I know.” She waved her hand in front of her, wishing it was just as easy to wave away the accumulated years of grief. “It wasn’t supposed to happen to Lilly. Not to a middle-class girl living in a small town where violent crime was rarer than a blizzard in July. It changed the fabric of my family. And of the entire town, really. It’s like the bubble we’d been living in burst, and people realized suddenly that what happened to Lilly could happen to anyone.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Even with all the time that had passed, she still hadn’t healed. Not completely. And she wasn’t sure she ever would.
* * *
Levi leaned forward to brush a strand of hair off her shoulder, then pulled back at the too-intimate gesture. He’d come to ensure she stayed safe. Nothing more.
“The scary thing is that it really can happen to anyone anywhere.” Her lashes were wet when she looked up at him. “These girls...they never expected to have to deal with what they have had to live through. And now...they have my father.”
As much as he didn’t want to pull her away from her grief, he needed to get her back on track. Her father’s life was at stake. And his might not be the only one.
“You mentioned an emergency plan. What exactly is Mercy supposed to do if she believes her life is in danger?”
“While we always hope we never have to use it, each girl has an emergency protocol in case their trafficker—or someone else—comes after them. We teach them what to do if they’re followed, how to get out of their apartment safely, who to call using code words if they are under duress and access to a safe house we have set up.”
“Tell me more about the safe house.”
“If any of the girls feel as if their lives are in danger, they are to call it in, then go directly to the safe house. The procedure was implemented because most of the girls—because of where they come from—are afraid of the authorities and don’t want to deal with them. It’s near public transportation so it’s easy to get to, and once there, they are given a cell phone to text me with the code that tells me where they are and that they are safe.”
“But Mercy hasn’t done any of these things.”
Kayla shook her head. “No. Which has me worried. I know Mercy. Maybe she doesn’t know they’re after her, but I found out right before you got here that she didn’t show up for work or her class tonight.”
“So you think she ran?”
“If they had her, they wouldn’t need me. So something had to have spooked her. Made her believe she was better off on her own than going to the safe house.”
“Have you ever used the system before?”
“The girl I told you about earlier, the one who was killed, she was being stalked by her former pimp. The last thing I got from her was her distress message.”
“Which might give Mercy motivation to do things on her own. Where do you think she would go?”
“I don’t know.” Kayla closed the living room curtains, turned on a lamp next to the couch, then sat down. “Most of the girls don’t have a lot of friends other than each other. They’re working hard for a better life and don’t have a lot of free time.”
Levi took the chair across from her. “Then help me understand what she’s thinking right now.”
Kayla let out a slow breath while her fingers played with the hem of her shirt. “By the time they get to us, they are suffering from PTSD. Most of them have been beaten over and over. Some of them have even been branded. They’ve been cut off from everyone. They are afraid to go to the authorities and too ashamed to go to friends or family. Coming to us—and working through our program—takes a tremendous amount of courage.”
He could hear the passion in her voice as she spoke about the girls she worked with. Her compassion for these women paired with her strong desire for justice had created a huge part of the motivation for her to do what she did. And on top of that—with the loss of her sister—the motivation behind what she did was personal.
“So how does someone like Mercy find you?” he asked.
“Getting out is often the hardest part. On one hand, they’re terrified of physical retribution if they leave. They’re also trapped mentally, so even if they could escape, many of them don’t because they are already isolated from friends and family. Girls like Mercy, who are from other countries, don’t have any identification papers and are terrified they’ll get arrested for being illegal.
“In Mercy’s situation, a Good Samaritan took her to the hospital after finding her beaten up in a hotel room. We work with other agencies, and often it’s the first responders who come to us with the girls, which is how she was eventually brought to us. Unfortunately too many of these girls don’t find a way out.”
Kayla’s phone buzzed again. She snatched it off the table.
“What is it this time?” Levi asked. If it was Mercy...
A second later she held up the phone so he could see it.
You didn’t listen to me. I told you not to get anyone involved. If you want to keep your father safe, you will do what I say.
She clicked on the attached photo. It was one of her and Levi standing at the window.
“Kayla—”
“They’re watching,” she said, quickly crossing the room to pull back the curtain and peer down again on the darkened street.
“You’re not going to find them,” he said, joining her at the window.
“I know.”
Levi felt his anger simmer as he followed her gaze to the cafés and shops, rows of bikes and pedestrians walking by. But someone was out there. Watching Kayla like they had been when she was on the street. Watching her again while she stood in the privacy of
her home. His concern for Max and Mercy hadn’t changed, but now he was worried about her as well.
“If the message was meant to scare me, they’ve done exactly that,” she said. “I’m terrified. What am I supposed to do?”
He drew in a deep breath, mentally going through their options. “I think you should play their game.”
“Play their game? What do you mean?”
“I think you should respond.”
“How?”
He knew it was taking a risk, but anything they did at this point was risky. At least she wasn’t doing this on her own.
“Can I see your phone?”
She handed it to him, and he started typing.
You want me to find Mercy? Let me do it my way. I’ll find her faster if I have help.
He showed her the text.
“So we make him believe we’ll actually make the trade?”
“For the moment, yes. And I think they’ll believe you. Why wouldn’t they? They already believe you’ll choose your father over Mercy or they wouldn’t have taken him for leverage.”
He waited while she mulled over his suggestion.
“What if this makes them mad?” she asked.
“I’d say they’re already mad. Making them think you’re planning on following through with their plan is to your advantage.”
“Okay. Send it.”
He glanced back at the screen, praying his analysis of the situation was correct, and pressed Send. In the army he’d been trained to process strategic intelligence on the enemy. This was really no different. He needed to pull together all the information he could then come up with a battle plan.
He stared at the screen as if that was going to bring a quicker reply. “Do you have any idea who might be behind this?”
She shook her head as she headed toward her bedroom. “I’ve got copies of her file locked up in my safe. I don’t remember any names mentioned in her files, but I do know that she was bought and sold several times. First in Italy. Then here in Holland.”
“So we can’t just automatically narrow it down.”
She came back a minute later with a thin file folder. “I might be able to find something in here, but no one was arrested in connection to her situation. And any names we had were aliases.”
“Which is going to make our job harder.”
Another text came through. Kayla read the text then handed the phone to Levi.
Fine, but you better find her.
“What do you suggest we do?” She heard the impatience in her voice and pressed her lips together. She wasn’t trying to be difficult. She just wanted to find a way to fix the situation without making things worse. And she had no idea how.
“Let’s start with Mercy’s apartment.”
Kayla glanced out the window. “And if they try to follow us?”
“We have to make sure they don’t.”
Three
Kayla dropped Mercy’s file into her bag, then reached to take the keys to her apartment off the table. But the keys slipped through her fingers and onto the floor.
“Kayla?”
“Sorry.” She held her trembling hands out in front of her, then balled her fingers into fists. “I’m trying not to panic. Trying not to imagine what they might do to my father. He’s been through a lot this past year with my mother dying. Not to mention how hard he took my sister’s death. I’m not sure how much more he’s going to be able to endure.”
Levi’s fingers wrapped around hers, an unexpected steadying force in the middle of the storm. “I remember your father and always looked up to him as an honest leader in the community. I can only begin to imagine how hard this is on both of you, but he’s a strong man, Kayla.”
“I know, but now...”
Her words faded. How was either of them supposed to deal with this? Maybe she was underestimating her father, but she’d seen how much he’d lost and how he’d responded to that loss. She’d watched his fight against depression and the numbness that had seemed to consume him. He’d managed to hold on to his faith, but even that had become a day-to-day struggle. She’d hoped his coming to live with her would give him a new perspective, but it had only been recently that he’d started leaving the apartment. Going for walks in the morning, occasionally stopping at a pancake house for a stack of pannekoeken filled with spiced apples, syrup and whipped cream. But she knew that the healing over her mother’s death had barely begun.
“I think you should give him some credit,” Levi said, picking up her keys before pressing them gently against her palm. “He’s lost a lot in his lifetime. First your sister, and now your mom. But that doesn’t change the fact that he will pull through and find the strength he needs to get through this.”
“We got in a fight this morning,” she said. “It was over something stupid. I’d been bugging him to get out more. I thought I was trying to help him, but now...now I’d do anything just to know he was sitting safe on my couch.”
“We’ll find him. We’ll find Mercy, and we’ll figure out a way to save them both.”
“But how? Even if we find Mercy, we can’t trade her for my father. And yet if we don’t trade her, they’ll kill him.” She looked up at Levi and caught his gaze, feeling the enormous pressure of needing answers. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this. Both you and my father.”
“None of this is your fault. I came to make sure you were okay, and just because the threat has changed, my desire to keep you safe hasn’t.”
She wondered why it mattered to him. Why, after all these years, had he taken the time out of his busy schedule to keep her safe?
“Is the place close enough to walk?” Levi asked. “Or should we call for a taxi?”
“We can take the tram.” She pulled on her coat and scarf, then paused in the doorway. “And if you want to come with me, I’d like that.”
Kayla locked the door behind them before starting down the narrow staircase to the ground floor. Until she knew exactly who was behind this, it couldn’t hurt to have a bodyguard. Levi’s time in the military had given him an extra layer of strength and confidence. The same strength and confidence he’d ended up taking with him to the boardroom.
But even Levi’s presence didn’t completely settle her nerves as she stepped onto the busy street. Because the bottom line was that someone was threatening her. She studied the crowds as they headed out on foot. The narrow avenues around her house were always busy with cars, bicycles and scooters, along with a constant flow of pedestrians. She hurried beside him along the canal, with its tall, skinny row houses that all seemed to lean slightly askew reflecting in the water.
Someone clanged the bell on their handlebars. She jumped out of the way, her heart pounding as the bike zoomed past. Pressing her hand against her chest, she took in a deep breath, trying to slow her breathing. She was going to have to find a way to calm her panic.
“You actually ride your bike out here?” Levi asked.
“You get used to it. Most of the time. And besides, it’s the easiest way to get around.”
“Maybe, but when I go riding or hiking, I prefer not to be in the middle of the city.”
“There’s more to explore than just the city, even though the country’s flat terrain is not quite as rugged or even as beautiful as Arkansas.” She jumped into the trivial conversation, needing a distraction from the video of her father that continued to replay in her mind. “Last month, a couple friends and I headed out of the city on a twenty-mile route past a castle known as Muiderslot, then followed one of the scenic canals into the countryside.”
“Now that sounds like a challenge I’d enjoy.”
“You should try it one day.”
She glanced at him, hoping he didn’t think she’d meant it as an invitation for him to spend time with her. But she knew that Levi had never steered away from a challenge,
whether it was hiking the Ouachita Trail, rock climbing on Mount Magazine or running a marathon.
Today, it seemed, keeping her safe was his challenge.
She grew silent again as they walked. The narrow canal and its bridges reminded her of Paris, though that was where the similarity ended. The architecture of the city was unique, with its tall, narrow buildings, their rows of windows all reflecting the water. He seemed content to let her set the pace as they continued past a row of merchants, who during the day sold flowers and bulbs from floating barges.
“It’s closed now, but this is one of my favorite places to walk through, though I confess I don’t have a green thumb. At all,” she said, breaking the silence between them for another inconsequential discussion. “I bought some tulip bulbs once and thought I’d grow some out on my balcony. A year later, there’s still just a pile of dirt in the flower box.”
“That’s a shame, because I saw photos of this place on the plane, and the flowers were stunning,” he said.
“They are. This flower market has been floating on the Singel canal since the mid-1800s. The tulips, on the other hand, were first imported into Holland as far back as the sixteenth century, and their bulbs were even used as money at one point. I think it’s why I love Europe. I never get tired of the centuries-old architecture and history.”
“I need to come back one day when I have time to explore.”
She stopped along the edge of the canal and looked up at him. “My father’s missing, and I’m babbling about flowers. I just don’t know how to deal with this.”
“We need resources.” Levi paused, clearly as desperate for answers as she was. “I have a friend who might be able to help us without involving the authorities.”
“Who?”
“He’s an old military buddy who runs a multinational corporation. He’s the one who set up our company’s risk assessment. Because a lot of his employees travel internationally and regularly do business in hot spots, he’s able to handle crisis management and kidnapping and extortion threats.”
