NO EASY ESCAPE

Chased across Amsterdam by a human-trafficking ring, social advocate Kayla Brooks refuses to help them recapture Mercy, the young girl she rescued from their clutches. Even if they’ve already abducted her father as a hostage...and wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. There’s only one man Kayla can turn to for help: her ex-fiancé’s brooding older brother, Levi Cummings. Though Kayla relies on the handsome former army intelligence officer’s experience, fully trusting Levi seems impossible after she helped send his brother to jail. But as they struggle to save her father, protect Mercy and outmaneuver the traffickers, Kayla and Levi’s bond transcends pure survival. Armed with only a few clues about her father’s location, though, Kayla and Levi must bring down the crime ring...or lose all their lives.

“You’re still shaking,” Levi said.

“I’m freezing.” Kayla nodded. It was more than just the weather, but she could use something to take off the chill.

“Wait here.” Levi doubled back and a minute later, he handed her a cup of hot chocolate. She took a sip, burning the tip of her tongue in the process.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as they headed toward the tram.

“I’m worried about what we’re supposed to do if we end up finding Mercy. Even if we find her, we can’t exchange her.”

She turned to face him, tears pooling in her eyes. She needed to stay strong. Needed to keep her head clear, but all she could see was Mercy and her father lying on that slab in the morgue if they didn’t stop these men. And they couldn’t let that happen.

“Hey.” He tilted up her chin with his hand until she was looking at him. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

“And if we don’t?”

He shook his head. “We have to. There’s too much at stake.”

LISA HARRIS is a Christy Award winner and winner of the Best Inspirational Suspense Novel for 2011 from RT Book Reviews. She and her family are missionaries in southern Africa. When she’s not working, she loves hanging out with her family, cooking different ethnic dishes, photography and heading into the African bush on safari. For more information about her books and life in Africa, visit her website at lisaharriswrites.com.

Deadly Exchange

Lisa Harris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father’s house shall be destroyed: and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?

—Esther 4:14

To the men and women across the globe whose fight for justice is changing lives, one at a time.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

One

Kayla Brooks balanced one foot on the bike pedal and the other on the reddish path then waited for the traffic light to turn green. Getting around a city like Amsterdam, where there were more bikes than people, had initially felt like traversing a minefield. But after living here for two years, the choice to navigate the city like the locals was a no-brainer. Not only was it cheaper than public transportation, it was also faster.

A scooter zipped past her down the winding street as the light turned green. Ignoring her irritation, she started through the intersection—supposedly reserved for bicycles—and picked up her pace while mentally going through her to-do list. With the upcoming annual fund-raising luncheon only two weeks away, her list had grown substantially. Which meant she’d have to postpone running the bulk of her personal errands—like restocking her empty fridge—at least until the weekend.

The squeal of brakes jerked her out of her thoughts.

Kayla glanced behind her just in time to see a car swerve toward her. It slammed into her back tire, throwing her onto the hard pavement face-first. A sharp pain shot through her elbow as she started to untangle herself from her bike. The car flew past, its driver never looking back.

A shot of adrenaline raced through her as she glanced back at the string of bikes coming toward her. She needed to get off the path before she got run over. A man in a business suit riding a sturdy bike swerved out of the way, just barely avoiding hitting her. He shouted a few choice words as he flew past, chastising her both for being a tourist and for blocking the path.

So much for trying to blend in and look like a local.

Five seconds later, she managed to drag her bike out of the line of traffic to a strip of grass, barely avoiding another near collision with a woman riding with her toddler. She examined the damage—first on her body. Besides skinned-up palms and the lingering pain in her arm, nothing seemed broken. As for the bike she’d affectionately named Archie, the back fender was bent and the tire wouldn’t move.

Great. There was no way the damaged heap of metal was going to get her home.

She looked back down the street where the offending car had disappeared and let out a sharp huff of frustration. A couple people zoomed by on their bikes, apparently not having seen what had just happened. Her options were limited. She was going to have to lock up her bike, then walk the rest of the way home. She’d deal with the messed-up tire later.

Her phone buzzed as she snapped the padlock into place, securing her bike to a post. She glanced at the string of text messages.

do i have your attention now?

go home and wait for us to contact you again.

and don’t go to the police or there will be consequences.

Consequences?

A sick feeling spread through her. What kind of consequences?

Her stomach heaved. She stood on the side of the road, trying to interpret the messages. They had to be connected to her work. It was the only thing that made sense. She’d known when she accepted a position with International Freedom Operation that helping women who’d been trafficked get off the streets was risky. Three months ago, one of the girls they’d tried to rescue had been murdered, bringing with it a string of unwanted memories of her own. The girl’s death had been a frightening reminder of exactly whom they were dealing with on a day-to-day basis. And while threats weren’t uncommon, what did they—whoever they were—want from her?

Deciding to take a risk, she quickly punched in a number on her phone and then waited for her coworker to answer as she started walking.

“Evi? This is Kayla.”

“Kayla...where are you? You sound out of breath.”

“I’m walking home—”

“Walking? What happened to your bike?”

“It’s out of commission.” Kayla glanced behind her at the traffic zooming past her, trying not to give in to the panic. “Someone just hit me, and it wasn’t...it wasn’t an accident.”

“Wait a minute. A hit-and-run? Did you call the police—”

“No... I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I’m probably not supposed to be talking to you, but I don’t know what else to do. I also got a couple of text messages. I don’t know who they’re from, but they told me not to go to the police. I think it might be connected with one of the girls we’re working with.”

“Kayla, if that’s true, I don’t care what they told you. If someone’s threatening you, we need to get the authorities involved. Take the tram to the office, and we’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

“I’m almost home,” Kayla said. “I think I’d rather be there, since it will be dark soon. Plus I need to check on my father and make sure he’s okay.”

She started walking faster. She’d be safe in her apartment, and it would give her a place to think. At least she thought she’d be safe. She tried to shake off the torrent of fearful thoughts.

I have no idea how to deal with this, God. The decision to work with IFO came with its own set of risks, but this—having my life threatened...

What was she supposed to do?

“Okay, listen,” Evi said. “Abel and I can try to catch the next train out of Maastricht, but it will still be several hours until we can get back to Amsterdam. In the meantime, go home and stay there until we get back and the three of us can figure out what to do. I don’t think the girls need to know what’s happening yet, but I’ll contact each of them and make sure they’re okay.”

Kayla hung up the call a minute later. They’d done everything they could to cover all the bases with the trafficked girls they were helping reintegrate into society and regain their independence as they healed emotionally. They’d also put into place a detailed emergency protocol. Until they knew what they were looking at, she couldn’t have any of the girls’ lives put at risk.

She glanced again at her phone. But what did these people want?

Another message came through with another photo.

I thought we were clear. Talk to no one. No police. No one at your work.

She clicked on the photo and saw a picture of herself sprawled on the bicycle path.

They were watching.

Ten minutes later, Kayla stepped into her apartment and slid the security bolt shut behind her. The panic that had started when the car had hit her only managed to grow as she double-checked the lock. She needed some kind of weapon. She glanced around the tiny entryway, then grabbed the broom before starting through the two-bedroom apartment to make sure no one was inside.

She flipped on the overhead light and felt her breath catch. Someone had been here. The files that had been on her desk now lay scattered across the floor, and her laptop was open to the password prompt. Thieves would have taken the computer. Whoever had broken in had been looking for something. But what?

“Dad? Dad, are you here?”

Her heartbeat quickened as she checked the room where her father, Max, had been staying the past few weeks. A pile of books that had been on his bedside table lay strewn across the floor next to his radio. Had he been out when someone had broken in, or had they walked in on him? She couldn’t tell, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t here now.

She tried to squelch the growing panic. Chances were he’d simply run down to the corner café for an early dinner. Or at least that’s what she hoped had happened. But it was going to be dark soon, and he never stayed out after dark...

She grabbed her phone out of her back pocket and dialed his number.

No answer.

She hung up the call, trying to convince herself that everything was still somehow okay. That her father not answering didn’t mean something had happened to him. How many times over the past few weeks had she reminded him to keep his phone on so she could contact him if she needed him? For all she knew, he’d left the phone somewhere here in the house.

Still, worry began to spread. She’d invited her father to stay with her for a couple months, praying that a change of pace would help with the pain of losing her mom eight months ago to acute kidney failure. With the loss had come the familiar signs of depression he’d experienced before, but so far, she wasn’t sure the change of pace was helping. Until recently, he’d rarely left the apartment, spending most of his time in the small room she’d fixed up for him, listening to the news on his radio or reading.

Something creaked above her. She glanced up. It was probably just her neighbors upstairs. She quickly finished checking her bedroom and her bathroom, then peeked out onto the small balcony that was just big enough to store her bike and found the intruder’s point of entry. Someone had wedged open the balcony window. But whoever had broken in was gone.

Her phone rang, bringing on another flood of adrenaline. She set down the broom, then glanced at the caller ID, disappointed when it wasn’t her father. Surely they couldn’t monitor her movements from inside her own apartment.

“Hello?”

“Kayla?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Levi Cummings. Listen, I know it’s been a long time,” he rushed on, “but I really need to talk to you. It’s...it’s about Adam. He’s in Amsterdam.”

Her head began to throb at the news. How was that possible? Adam was supposed to be in prison.

She contemplated hanging up. Instead, she melted into the leather chair in the corner of her bedroom, wondering what else life was going to throw at her today. Almost two years had passed since she’d walked out of that busy courtroom. One year and eleven months, give or take a day or two. Not that she was counting. Because she wasn’t. But it had been enough time to send back all of the wedding and shower gifts, as well as inform the guests that there was not going to be a ceremony. Instead, she’d donated her white satin dress to charity and started a new life, determined to recover from a broken engagement.

She hadn’t told people why the wedding had been canceled. She hadn’t had to. Adam Cummings’s arrest had been all over the news at the time: Groom Arrested for Fraud. Bride Left at the Altar.

Not literally at the altar, but it had been close enough. Three weeks after his sentence, she’d decided to accept a position with International Freedom Operation that would expand the nonprofit she worked for into Europe. She’d taken the next flight to Amsterdam, hoping to put her past—and all the bad memories—behind her.

“Kayla, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. It’s just that...hearing from you caught me off guard.”

She stood up and started pacing the small bedroom. She had enough on her plate today. Talking with her ex-fiancé’s brother really wasn’t something she had the emotional energy to deal with at the moment. Her elbow ached from the fall, and she needed to take some pain medicine. Except even pain medicine wasn’t going to be able to mask reality.

“Levi...I’m sorry.” She ran her finger across a row of books. “I don’t understand why Adam would be here. I thought he was still in prison.”

“He got out early for good behavior, and I have reason to believe that he’s in Amsterdam to see you.”

She frowned. She had no desire to see Adam, though she hadn’t exactly kept up with the news. The last time her mother had sent her an article from back home it had been about Arkansas’ most eligible bachelor, Levi Cummings, who according to the magazine was also quite a ladies’ man. The up-and-coming CEO of Potterville was also known as the man who’d saved the small town from dying out.

She shifted her mind back to the conversation.

“How long has he been out?”

“Five days.”

“Why would he want to see me? We didn’t exactly part on good terms.” Unless...unless he was the one behind what was happening today.

“Honestly, I’m not sure he would come, but that’s why I’m worried.”

Worried that your little brother is about to cause another scandal?

She squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds and tried to steady her breath. “I’m still not following you.”

There was a long pause on the line. “You heard some of the things he said about you when he left for prison. Threats he made.”

“Like blaming me for his arrest?”

She stared at a stain on the carpet that needed to be cleaned. The hit-and-run, the cryptic text messages... Was all of this because Adam still blamed her for his arrest? Something wasn’t adding up. She knew Adam—or at least she once had. And while she might not have any desire to see him again, she’d never believe he’d try to hurt her.

Or would he?

He’d spent the past two years in prison. Enough time to think about the person he blamed for putting him there and come up with a plan for revenge.

“Kayla?”

“I just can’t believe he’d do anything to hurt me,” she said.

“I’ll be honest, I haven’t seen him much these past couple of years. His choice. But he believes—or at least at one time believed—that if you hadn’t gone to the police, then he wouldn’t have gotten arrested.”

“For one,” she began, “it was the authorities who came to me. And on top of that, at the time I had no idea what Adam was involved in. But that part of my life is over, and I have no intentions of going back.”

“Please, I’m not trying to upset you, but I do want to make sure you’re safe. Which is why I think it would be better if we spoke in person.”

“Wait a minute. You’re in Amsterdam as well?”

“I just arrived in the city. I thought we could discuss what’s going on, and how we’re going to resolve the situation.”

She let out an audible sigh. Spoken like a true army intelligence officer. Like he was on a combat operation and needed information in order to protect her. But maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. Levi had always been incredibly focused. Which was why, even though he and Adam were only eleven months apart, Levi had always played the role of older brother. Even to the point that when his father had gotten sick, he’d been the one to complete his current contract with the military and then returned to rural Arkansas to run his family’s manufacturing company. And as always, he’d continued to be the glue that held the Cummings family together during a crisis.

Like when his father had come to her, insulting her by offering fifty thousand dollars not to tell her side of the story. The whole situation had made her question—not for the first time—her whirlwind relationship with Adam that had made her miss noticing that there was nothing solid beneath his charm. It made her realize as well that she’d simply been enamored to the point where she wasn’t sure if she’d ever really loved him. Because it hadn’t been Adam who’d come to her rescue. In the end, Levi had been the one who’d stood up for her, sweeping in and cleaning up the mess.

But none of that mattered. Not anymore.

Kayla pressed her fingers against her temples. Her decision to come to Amsterdam and her rejection of that money had nothing to do with what was happening today. She’d always known she’d made the right decision, not letting the Cummings family buy her out. Not that she ever would have divulged what she knew about them.

“Kayla, please...has Adam contacted you?”

“No.”

“Then we need to meet before he does.”

Kayla frowned. Apparently this problem wasn’t going away, either.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Near the city center, but I can come to you.”

“I live a bit farther out.”

“That’s fine. If you give me the address, I’ve already secured a taxi.”

Of course he had. He had flown across the Atlantic, hired a taxi and was now prepared to fix things. Just like he always did.

But the last thing she wanted to do was get involved in Adam’s life—or with anyone from the Cummings family, for that matter. Maybe the sooner she saw Levi, the sooner she could put all of this behind her.

“Fine.” She gave him her address, thought about suggesting they discuss whatever it was they needed to discuss over dinner, then decided that would be far too personal. He could come, say whatever it was he needed to say, then leave.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just...it’s been a rough day.” She hesitated before continuing. She didn’t want to believe Adam was capable of hurting her, but Levi was right. Adam had threatened her, blaming her for his arrest. “I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Then I’ll be there in about thirty minutes,” he said.

She hung up the phone, then downed a couple of aspirin with a glass of cold water. She needed to figure out if it was Adam who was targeting her—or someone far more deadly.

* * *

Levi Cummings stood outside Kayla’s apartment, trying to get his nerve up to knock on the door. Which was ridiculous. He’d spent the past two years running a multimillion-dollar manufacturing compound and employing thousands of workers, which had in turn lowered the town’s unemployment to just over 4 percent. All thanks to the Cummings family. Or so their head of PR always liked to say. But while he missed his work in the army, family had always been a priority. He’d decided to put his whole heart into building a company that provided jobs by creating the tents and outdoor gear that had become income for their town.

In the process, though, financial meetings and other responsibilities had filled up his calendar, making it so he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually had a chance to head out with any of his company’s gear for a day of hiking and fishing. But he knew how to handle conflict. So how had it come to the place where he was scared to knock on the door of an old friend? It was just Kayla Brooks. The girl next door. The girl he’d known forever. The girl who’d stolen his heart in seventh grade and who’d now somehow managed to bring him across the Atlantic just to ensure she was okay. What he hadn’t been able to do—at least not completely—was convince himself that he wasn’t responding out of emotion or any personal reasons. Was his being here simply a matter of family honor?

He knocked on the door, rolled back on his heels, then stuffed his hands into his pockets while he waited for her to answer. She finally did, a full thirty seconds later.

“Levi.” Her gaze took him in. “It’s been a long time.”

“Almost two years. How are you?”

She hadn’t changed. Not really. She still had the same wide hazel eyes, red hair that now reached past her shoulders and a sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks. She looked...beautiful. Not that it mattered.

“I’m fine. Just wondering why you flew all the way to Europe to see me. And why Adam would want to see me.”

She’d made her feelings clear the last time they’d spoken, on the day of Adam’s sentence. Levi had walked her out to the car, begging her not to take offense at how his father had tried to buy her off. Ira Cummings was used to getting what he wanted, and used to using money as a bargaining chip to get it—whether it was someone’s cooperation or someone’s silence. And this time the seventy-year-old patriarch had wanted to ensure that Kayla wouldn’t do anything that might further ruin the Cummings family name.

But his father should have known her better than that. Levi could have told him before he handed her the check that Kayla wasn’t the kind of person to take a bribe. She wouldn’t tell her story to the paper, or anyone else for that matter, because she was one of the few people he knew who still actually held to their principles. He’d always found that refreshing. It was his father who hadn’t seen it that way.

Kayla, though, had always been different, and she’d never do anything to hurt those around her or the town she’d grown up in. With a population of just under seven thousand, the town boasted a turn-of-the-century courthouse, a white water tower painted with the local high school mascot and Reggie’s diner, known in a hundred-mile-radius for the best catfish, fried okra and apple fritters. Levi knew Kayla loved that town as much as he did.

She stepped back from the doorway. “You can come in.”

He nodded, wondering how he was supposed to greet her. A hug seemed too personal at the moment, so he just thanked her, then stepped inside the cozy living room with its hardwood floors. The apartment was small, but the living room had a large window that would ensure plenty of light in the adjoining dining area and tiny galley kitchen during the day. She’d added a few personal touches, mainly some artwork on the walls, photos of friends and family that were stuck on the refrigerator and a vase full of purple and white tulips on the table, a surprise for February. What also surprised him was that it wasn’t neat and organized like he expected. As if someone had hurriedly gone through her things.

Levi frowned. Whatever was going on, she was clearly upset about something. “When’s the last time you heard from Adam?” he asked, getting straight to the point of his visit.

“I haven’t. I made it clear two years ago that things were over between us. I don’t know why he’d want to see me now.”

“Neither do I, but that’s why I’m here.”

“Trying to avoid another family scandal?”

He brushed off the biting comment. “I’m not my father.”

“No, but surely you haven’t forgotten the fifty thousand dollars he tried to give me, or the choice words and the long lecture it came with.”

“I haven’t forgotten, but I didn’t come to threaten you, Kayla. I came here to warn you.”

“About Adam?” She sat down on the couch and offered him a worn wing chair across from her. “He might have made some bad choices, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m pretty sure that Adam is the least of my worries right now.”

“What do you mean?”

She glanced at her phone lying on the table as if she were trying to decide what to tell him. “It’s nothing. Just some things I need to take care of. You didn’t need to come, Levi.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Then how long do you plan to stay in the country?”

He studied her body language. She seemed on edge...distracted. Something was off. “Until I’m sure you’re safe.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” He leaned forward. He might be pressing for something that wasn’t any of his business, but he could tell by her eyes that something was wrong. “Because you clearly seem scared about something, and if you’re convinced Adam would never hurt you, then it’s about something else.”

She mindlessly grabbed a piece of candy from a bowl on the table between them, tugged off the wrapper, then popped the sweet into her mouth.

“Where’s your dad?” he asked, his concern rising. “I heard he was staying with you.”

“He is, but...to be honest, I’m not sure where he is.”

Levi leaned forward, waiting for her to continue.

“I received some other messages today. Some...threats. But I’m pretty sure they weren’t from Adam.”

“Can I see them?”

She hesitated before picking up her phone. “You don’t have to come to my rescue. I’m not ten anymore.”

A memory surfaced. The three of them had decided to take a shortcut home from school. Adam had tried to convince them no one would ever know they’d trespassed, but Mr. Sander’s bull had had other ideas. Levi had managed to pull Kayla over the fence to safety, even though she’d quickly assured him after the rescue that she could have scaled the fence on her own.

She’d always been stubborn, even though he’d joked in return that she owed him for saving her life.

“And this photo?” he asked. “You could have been seriously hurt.”

“But I wasn’t.” She shook her head. “And while I could be wrong, I don’t think these texts are from your brother, Levi. They just don’t sound like him.”

He read through the messages again. “I wouldn’t have flown all the way here if I didn’t think Adam was capable of following through with his threats.”

“Maybe, but there’s another possibility.”

He looked up and caught her gaze. “What do you mean?”

“I think the threats could be related to my work.”

“I know some about the nonprofit you work for, but how?”

“We work with exploited and trafficked women, and not everyone is happy about what we do.”

“Have you received threats before?”

“Not personally, but others involved with the work have. We’re combating a hundred-billion-dollar business. We get girls off the streets, which means while there might be someone else to take the place of the girls we rescue, someone’s losing their income.”

She was scared. He could see it in her body language and in her eyes.

“What about the police?” he asked. “Have you told them what’s going on?”

“Not yet. I’m not sure they can help. Traffickers use burner phones and know how to work under the radar.”

“Maybe, but you still don’t know who’s behind this. And even if it is traffickers, the police have got to have resources that will help, or has legalizing prostitution changed things?”

“It shifted the role of pimps and traffickers to businessmen and managers. And while some do choose this life, there are still many who are being imported into this country in order to meet the demand—including children. They are promised work but end up trapped in a world they can’t get out of.”

“And in the meantime, the traffickers are making money,” he said. “I’m just not sure you should shrug this off. You could have been killed when that car hit your bike.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“No, but this clearly isn’t over.”

Kayla’s phone beeped, and she picked it up.

He studied her face, trying to ignore the unexpected feelings he still held for her. Because falling for his brother’s ex-fiancée would not be a good move. He’d tried to tell himself that he was only here because he felt sorry for her. She was simply an old friend, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her. But it was personal, and he wanted to help her. If he had his way, he’d take her back to the US on the next flight if he could confirm her life was in danger.

A second later her face paled.

“What’s wrong, Kayla?”

She stared at the phone. “They’ve got my father.”

“What?”

“They sent a video.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

Her hand shook as she passed him the phone. He watched the ten-second video of Max sitting in a chair with his hands tied behind him as he spoke.

“Kayla...I’m so sorry. They’re demanding that you hand over one of your girls—Mercy—in the next twenty-four hours. Or they’ve said they will kill me.”

Two

The street below blurred as Kayla stared out her apartment window. Car headlights streaked by, houseboats moored on the canal bobbed in the water and the endless rows of houses were lit up by hazy streetlamps and porch lights. Her mind tried to work through the logic of what she’d just seen on the video. How in the world had this happened? Someone had entered her apartment, snatched her father and was now threatening to kill him?

“Why take my father?” she asked, speaking her thoughts out loud to Levi. “He has nothing to do with my work.”

“They need leverage. They’re using him to get to you.”

So those were the consequences they’d meant. If she didn’t find Mercy, they’d kill her father.

How did a job helping people come to this?

She studied the pedestrians and bikes passing below. Were they out there, watching her apartment? It seemed impossible to tell in the darkness. No one looked out of place, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. A chill blew through her, raising goose bumps across her forearm.

If they were out there now...watching her...

Maybe she was just being paranoid. They’d given her twenty-four hours to find Mercy, which meant for the next twenty-four hours it was to their advantage to keep her father alive. Because right now, he was the only leverage they had.

And when she found Mercy? What was she supposed to do then?

Levi crossed the room, stopping beside her. “Tell me about Mercy. Who is she?”

“One of the girls we’ve been working with the past few months. About eighteen months ago, she was brought to Italy from Nigeria with promises of a job and money to send back to her parents. Once she got there, she found out that everything she’d been told was a bunch of lies.”

“And now her previous...owner...wants her back?”

Kayla nodded. It was an impossible trade. An impossible situation with no easy resolution. Trade Mercy for Max, or let her father die. How was she supposed to do either one?

There has to be another way, God.

“She’s only seventeen years old, Levi.”

“I don’t think this is something you can fix on your own, Kayla.” He stepped up next to her. “You need to go to the police. It’s the only way out of this.”

“They told me not to go to the police.” She was trying not to panic, but while she’d always known there were risks to her job, everything had suddenly spiraled out of control. And now her choices were causing consequences in other people’s lives. People she loved. “I can’t risk them hurting my father.”

“And do you think that not going to the police is going to help?” Levi asked. “At least we’d have more resources on our side.”

“We?” She took a step back, immediately regretting the sharp tone of her voice. “I’m sorry, but you don’t need to get involved in this. Two of my coworkers, Evi and Abel, are on their way back to Amsterdam right now. We will figure out something.”

“I thought they told you not to get your coworkers involved. Besides, the moment I got on that plane to Europe, I was involved. And whether your life’s at risk because of my brother or a bunch of human traffickers doesn’t really matter at this point. There’s no way I can just walk away.”

“What about Adam?” she said. “Do you know where he is?”

“I haven’t been able to get a hold of him.”

She glanced up at him, suddenly grateful to have a familiar face next to her right now. This was the Levi she remembered. The man she’d always known him to be. Fiercely loyal, he would never walk away from ensuring the good guys won. It was what had propelled him to join the military in order to serve his country, as well as what had motivated him to return home when his family needed him.

But still. How could she expect him to help fight her battle?

“I need to see if I can get a hold of Mercy. Then I need to come up with a plan to get my father back as well, because...because I don’t know what else to do.” She pressed her lips together. She was rambling. A habit she had when she was nervous. She grabbed her phone off the table then caught his gaze. “And, Levi...thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad I’m here.”

Kayla dialed Mercy’s number, praying she picked up. The phone went straight to voice mail.

“Her phone’s off.”

“Tell me more about the connection to your job. I know you work with International Freedom Operation, but all I know is what’s on their website.”

“Many of the girls we help, like Mercy, lived in extreme poverty before making the journey here. When they learn of travel brokers offering visas and a plane ticket to Europe, they believe they’ve found a way to support their family.”

“And yet it’s all a lie,” Levi said.

Kayla nodded. “They’re now indebted to the people who smuggled them into the country and forced to work in the sex trade. We help those who have been able to escape with a place to live, job training, language classes and sometimes even citizenship.”

“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.”

“And you think he could put an end to this?”

“I think it’s worth trying.”

Kayla hesitated, still not willing to risk her father’s life by getting someone else involved. “Let’s check out Mercy’s apartment first. If she’s not there, we’ll talk about calling your friend.”

* * *

On any other day, Levi would have loved exploring the city. While he’d traveled extensively, Amsterdam had never been one of the cities he’d visited. The canals, old bridges covered with parked bicycles, the tall old houses...

He glanced at Kayla’s profile as they headed toward the tram, not surprised at all that she’d ended up here working with formerly trafficked women. She’d always been compassionate, with a heart for others. And it seemed that all these years later, that compassion had only grown.

There was only one thing he wasn’t sure how to handle. If she didn’t agree to get help, he was going to have to consider doing it without her blessing. Because he knew enough about the situation to realize that they were in way over their heads. If they didn’t get support from the authorities, the chances of her father’s abductors making good on their threat rose substantially.

“Do you think they’re out there watching us?” she asked, rubbing her elbow.

“It’s possible.”

They could be anyone. The man standing on the corner carrying a briefcase. The twentysomething sailing past them on a bike. They could be in the crowd watching the street performers or drinking coffee next to the canal. Absolutely anyone could be watching them. Stalking them.

He stopped beside Kayla in front of a blue-and-white tram; she quickly paid the fare for him, then scanned her ticket in front of a card reader. They headed toward the back of the tram, past blue chairs and a handful of passengers. As far as he could tell, no one was paying attention to them, but there was no way to be sure.

“Do you have any idea why someone would target Mercy in particular?” he asked as they slid into a couple of empty seats.

“She never spoke much about her past, though there was a man she mentioned once that she was afraid of. It sounded to me as if he was obsessed with her, but I have no idea who he was or what he looked like. I don’t even have a name.”

“How long has she been with your program?”

“She came to us about three months ago, originally from Nigeria. She came to us broken but eventually decided to stay and work with the program.”

“So you’re one of her mentors.”

The automated voice on the tram announced their destination.

“This is our stop.”

Five minutes later, they entered an apartment building and walked up a steep set of stairs to the third-story apartment. Kayla knocked on the door of number five.

Nothing.

“I’m assuming no one’s home. The girls have a class tonight and normally aren’t back until after eight,” she said, knocking again on the door. “I have a key, but I never thought I might have to use it. Not for this.”

When no one answered the second knock, she pulled the key from her bag and opened the door.

Kayla froze in the doorway. “Levi...they’ve already been here.”

Levi stepped into the space behind her. The small living room and kitchen area had been trashed, leaving no doubt that whoever was after Mercy had made it here first.

“Why would they break in?”

“I’m assuming the same reason we’re here. Trying to see if they can figure out where Mercy is in case motivating you doesn’t work.” He stepped over a pile of books scattered across the floor. “How many girls live here?”

“Five. Evi, my co-worker, told me that all the girls are accounted for except Mercy.”

“And if they had Mercy, they wouldn’t need your father.” He stood in the middle of the room, not wanting to touch anything in case they decided to get the police involved. “I know this is tough, but you’re doing some incredible things with these women. Don’t forget that despite everything that’s going on.”

She shot him a half smile. “I won’t, but this...this is a reminder that these women had become nothing more than commodities.”

“Why don’t they just go to the police themselves?” he asked.

“Because prostitution is legal here, they are given contracts, but then they have to pay them back and the terms are impossible.” She caught his gaze. “The girl that was recently found dead? She was convinced she couldn’t go to the police because they weren’t to be trusted and nothing we said could change that. I don’t want that to happen to Mercy.”

He followed her as she walked through the living room toward one of the bedrooms.

“This is Mercy’s room,” Kayla said. “She shares it with one of the other girls.”

A couple of the dresser drawers weren’t completely shut. There was a pile of clothes on the floor between the two twin beds, and the closet clearly had been gone through.

“Mercy doesn’t have a lot of things, so while I’m not 100 percent sure, it looks to me like she left in a hurry. Her suitcase is gone, along with her toothbrush and other personal things.” Kayla turned to Levi. “She had to have known someone was after her. And when they couldn’t find her, they went to plan B.”

“But why didn’t she call one of you?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Has she been acting strange? Jumpy?”

“No...nothing that I noticed.”

“Where might she have gone if she were scared?”

“Normally, she would have called me or Evi.”

“What about other friends in the city?”

“I don’t think she has many. Most of the girls don’t make friends. They’re slow to trust. That sense of survival isn’t easy for them to shake.”

“So we have to figure out where she might have gone,” he said. “Because if we do, we’ll have a chance at finding her and your father.”

The floor creaked above them.

“What’s up there?” he asked.

Kayla shook her head. “There’s an attic you can access via a staircase in the back of the house. We’re planning to remodel it and make it into a fourth bedroom eventually, but for now, it’s just used for storage.”

“Mercy could be hiding up there.” Levi started for the steep staircase. “Or it’s become the perfect hiding place for whoever trashed the apartment.”

He ran up the stairs, hoping he was wrong and it was Mercy. But Kayla had hinted at what these people could do. As far as he could tell, murder wasn’t just a threat. It was a line they wouldn’t hesitate to cross if they didn’t get what they wanted.

He stepped off the staircase and onto the attic floor. A figure lunged forward at him, swinging a knife and winging Levi’s upper arm in the process. He took a step back, knowing he had to assume that the intruder wanted to kill him. He could see it in his eyes. Hand-to-hand combat had completely different rules from a shoot-out, and he had no weapon. And while the best defense might be to run, he wasn’t going to risk Kayla’s life in the process. His only option at the moment was to subdue the intruder.

The man faced him from the center of the dusty attic that contained a few dozen boxes, mattresses and a few pieces of furniture. He was taller by a good three to four inches and at least twenty pounds heavier, giving Levi another disadvantage.

There was no time to think, only to avoid the man’s next lunge. Levi ducked to miss the move, but from the determined look on the man’s face it seemed clear he hadn’t expected them to show up. With the only option to fight or lead the intruder into a possible encounter with Kayla, Levi grabbed a small coffee table, braced it in front of himself and charged.

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