Safe At Hawk's Landing. Rita Herron
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me, they’re tough. Survivors. Harrison and Lucas will find them, then they’re going to need you.” She paused. “So the best thing you can do for them is to focus on your own recovery.”
Charlotte blinked back tears. “But all I can think about is Evie and Mae Lynn—”
“Shh,” Honey whispered. “You don’t know the Hawk brothers like I do. They’re the most trustworthy, brave, courageous, strong men I know. When they say they’re going to do something, they’ll do it.”
Charlotte wanted to believe her. But she’d never trusted a man in her life.
Honey released her hand and disappeared for a moment. When she returned she dragged a chair up beside the bed, and dabbed at Charlotte’s tearstained face with a tissue.
“Does your head hurt?”
Charlotte licked her dry lips. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter—”
“It does matter,” Honey said with conviction. “You matter to me, Charlotte.” Honey’s voice cracked. “I know it must be scary to open your eyes and not be able to see.”
“I always hated the dark,” Charlotte admitted.
“Me, too,” Honey said softly.
Charlotte squeezed Honey’s hand and blinked back tears. Maybe her friend was right. She had to be strong. Dig deep. Heal herself.
She wouldn’t be any good to the girls if she fell apart.
* * *
LUCAS CALLED A crime-scene investigative team to search the warehouses and surrounding area, and to process the interior of the building, where they’d found the chains and blood. He and Harrison had done all they could do, but didn’t want to miss anything. Even a partial print or button from one of the kidnappers could help.
His phone buzzed, and he settled the kitten in the SUV. He didn’t know what he was going to do with it, but he didn’t intend to leave it out here to fend for itself.
Maybe his mother would want it. Or Honey. Or... Charlotte.
Hell, what was he thinking? He didn’t even know the woman. She might not like cats. And no telling how long she’d be hospitalized.
“Lucas, it’s Tradd.”
The agent’s voice jerked him back to the present. “What’s up?”
“Did you find anything?” Tradd asked.
“We’re at some warehouses outside Tumbleweed that appear to have been a holding place for victims, although judging from discarded food containers, they’ve been gone a while. We don’t think it’s the Tumbleweed victims.”
“These crews know how to slide in and out under the radar,” Tradd said.
“What about you guys?” Lucas asked.
“I’m on my way to the Mexican border,” Tradd said. “Got a tip from a CI to check out. Agent Sandino is en route to Miami to look at some containers we suspect the traffickers might be using to transport the human cargo.”
Human cargo. Those two words shouldn’t be used in the same sentence.
“I’ll keep you posted.” Tradd ended the call and Lucas hurried to meet Harrison by his SUV. The crime team had arrived and they were combing the warehouse space, processing the charred van and searching the property. If there had been trouble with one or more of the girls or one had escaped, they might find someone in those woods.
The next three hours were grueling as they combed the area. Lucas and Harrison joined in, searching behind trees, rocks, in the ditches and a section of ground that looked as if it had been disturbed.
The dirt was piled high with leaves and brush spread across it. A grave?
Lucas jammed a shovel into the dirt, and proceeded to clear away the soil, leaves and sticks, while Harrison explored another section that had been covered up as if it led to a tunnel or a cave.
Lucas held his breath as he dug deeper and deeper. The shovel hit something hard, and a sick knot clenched in his stomach.
Was it bones? Or a body?
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