call security and get them up here to secure the room.”
She nodded, but her attention was drawn back to the photo. With her tears under control, she could now read what had been written at the bottom, in thick red paint. No, not paint. Lexie swallowed against the rising contents of her stomach as she read the two words smeared there: STOP SEARCHING.
“Or what?” Lexie whispered, glancing back at Shaun. “Do you think they’ll hurt Maria?”
Shaun’s shoulders drooped as he looked from the photo to Lexie. He scratched his chin and sighed in resignation. “No, Lexie. Think about it. Their target is you.”
Lexie sank into the closest chair, Shaun’s deduction ringing in her ears. None of this made sense. Why target her? Sure, Lexie had her suspicions about Maria’s disappearance, but she’d honestly thought that her parents would have received a ransom note or message by now. The lack of communication from an abductor or kidnapper had only reinforced Maria’s parents’ belief that their daughter had run away, and Lexie had had to follow clues and an anonymous tip that led her on this trip. But with Lexie’s folder disappearing, the email hack and now the lopped-off braid and warning message, the whole thing spoke of something bigger going on. Had there been truth to Shaun’s warning, after all?
He’d brought a gun on board, of that much she was certain, but it didn’t explain his involvement or the reason why someone would try to scare her off what should be an innocuous retrieval of a mildly rebellious young woman. Or even if it did turn out to be kidnapping, why hadn’t anyone asked for money? Lexie swallowed the urge to demand an explanation from Shaun. She’d get answers from him once the security team examined the strange mess on her bunk.
“I think,” she began, striving to keep from staring at either the bunk or where she suspected the gun was tucked on Shaun’s belt, “that you have some explaining to do.” Before she could finish her thoughts, heat rushed from her belly to her forehead. A ringing in her ears drowned out Shaun’s response. Her lungs seemed to decide that breathing was optional, and beads of sweat broke out along her forehead.
Shaun gripped her shoulders, his face blurry in her compromised vision. “Lexie? Stay with me, Lexie. What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
Barely lucid, Lexie waved a limp arm toward the bathroom, hoping Shaun would get the message. He disappeared and returned with a plastic cup of water, which he tilted up to her lips. She drank, grateful for the cooling effect of the liquid, but beyond mortified that she’d lost the strength to hold the cup herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the panic attack run its course.
After a few minutes of labored breathing and intense internal waves of heat, Lexie felt well enough to open her eyes again. Shaun knelt in front of her chair, concern etched across his features. “What happened? Should I call a nurse?”
Lexie shook her head and downed the rest of the water. “Panic attack. I’m okay, I’ll just feel a little dizzy for a few hours.”
“You’re sure you don’t need medical attention? I can have one of the nurses down here in minutes.”
Under different circumstances, Lexie might have laughed and explained the details of what a panic attack entailed, but right now she felt more annoyed with her body’s bad timing and unpredictable response to stress than anything else. “No nurse needed, all right? This happens once in a while. It’s not a condition I can control. It feels like I’m dying for about ten to fifteen minutes and then I’m fine.”
Lexie wished her cabin had an extra room she could disappear into for a few minutes, not only to give her body a break from trying to process the stresses of the day, but also to get away from the clear worry on Shaun’s face. His concern made her stomach queasy, mostly because it didn’t make sense. How could someone who’d so callously shattered her sister’s heart act with such tenderness?
Heat rose in her cheeks as she realized she’d been staring at him. He stared back, refusing to break eye contact. A gasp rose in her throat and she swallowed it down, looking away with effort. No, no, no. Shaun was all wrong for her.
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the present. Someone had left her a warning, and she needed to know why. “The only reason I can think of for that message,” she said, working it out as she spoke, “would be if Maria isn’t simply missing, as her parents believe. Whoever did this means business. They have to know I’m looking for her, which only confirms the worst-case scenario. Shaun, Maria left her prom dress behind. It doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re suggesting she might have been taken?” Weariness betrayed Shaun’s otherwise confident demeanor. “Because you’re on the right track, in that case.”
Lexie shot him a sharp look. “You know about this? Let me guess—I should stay out of it and let you handle things.”
Shaun ran his fingers through his hair and leaned against the desk. “I think we’re beyond that. In brief, kidnapping isn’t far off. The correct term here is likely trafficking, though I don’t want to jump the gun just yet.”
Lexie cringed at his choice of words. “Because anything to do with a handgun on Canadian soil would be problematic.”
Shaun squinted at her. “Right.”
Since he didn’t rise to the bait, she pounced on the rest of his know-it-all commentary. “And I don’t see how trafficking fits into this. We’re on a ferry to Newfoundland. Last time I heard about trafficking, it involved moving drugs or weapons across the Pacific.”
“Exactly. Which would make the Atlantic an ideal route for a savvy trafficker with connections and the know-how to get their cargo from point A to B.”
“Cargo? Their drugs?”
Shaun shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m afraid not. It’s far worse than that. There are groups around the world who traffic people, Lexie. They kidnap young women and sell them to the highest bidder for work in factories or as domestic help to people who have more money than brains or morals. These girls don’t know what they’re getting into, and are usually enticed by the promise of a great job in a flashy foreign country. They’re offered high salaries and plenty of additional perks, but by the time the girls realize they’ve been duped, it’s far too late.”
Lexie’s stomach churned as she tucked her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I thought that kind of thing only happened overseas, not here. I’ve wondered why the girls don’t just run away, but I know it’s much more complicated than that. It’s hard to believe this goes on without the whole world freaking out about it.”
Shaun sighed. “It’s a harder problem to solve than it sounds. These people operate covertly, and yes, even here in North America. They’re smart. And it’s not unusual to drug these young women en route. By the time the girls get to the factory or new home, they’re either threatened with bodily harm or their captors threaten to hurt the girls’ families if they don’t cooperate. So they go along with it, working themselves to the bone, while the factory owners reap excess profits from their cheaply made products.”
It sounded insane, and yet...what other explanation could there be? The world made less sense by the minute. “How do you know all this?” she asked, peering up at him. He looked far too relaxed if what he’d just told her was
