with the vast needs for her services and the cost, and accepted money to fund her efforts,” Dexter said. “But my preliminary search into her financials didn’t reveal anything suspicious. No large deposits, no offshore accounts.” He gestured toward another computer screen showing the doctor’s personal account then her business one. “There is an account for donations that has around a hundred grand, but it’ll take me time to sort through the ins and outs of the accounting to see if all the donations are legit.”
Brayden scrubbed a hand through his hair. Money could be one motive. But if she’d been coerced, there had to be a more personal reason. “How about family? Does she have parents, a sister or brother, anyone DiSanti might threaten to persuade her to do his dirty work?”
“Wait, this is interesting,” Dexter said.
Brayden shifted, hoping his brother had found something he could use to convince Mila to talk to him. “What?”
“Mila was adopted, although both of her adopted parents have passed,” Dexter said.
Brayden’s brows shot up. “Any information on her birth mother or father?”
Dexter shook his head. “Apparently she was abandoned as a baby. No father listed anywhere. Dr. Andrea Manchester was working at the hospital where Mila was brought in by paramedics. She and her husband adopted Mila.”
No wonder she’d wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps. “Anything on her coworkers?” Brayden asked.
Dexter shrugged. “The head nurse is a single mother named Rhoda Zimmerman. She has a ten-year-old son and lives close to the clinic.” He pressed the print button and the printer spit out a page of names and addresses. “Other employees include a receptionist, another nurse and a PA.”
Brayden checked his watch. “It’s too late tonight to talk to any of them. But first thing in the morning, I’ll get on it.”
“It’ll go faster if we divide the list,” Dexter said.
“Thanks. I’ll take the head nurse and receptionist.”
“I’ll talk to the others,” Dexter offered.
Brayden noticed a file on the desk, one that was labeled Hawk. His gaze shot to his brother, then he gestured to the folder. “What’s that about?”
A wary look flashed across Dexter’s chiseled face. “A file on Chrissy.”
“You were looking for her all these years?”
Dex nodded. “Glad that’s settled.”
Unfortunately, she was dead and had been since the day she’d gone missing.
“Guess I can put it away now.” His brother swept the folder off the desk and jammed it in the drawer.
Something about how quickly he removed it made Brayden suspicious. He could usually read his brother like a book. But not tonight.
Was Dexter keeping something from him?
Mila jerked awake from her nightmares, only to realize that she was living a real one. The dark holding cell was cold and lonely, and felt a million miles away from home and her daughter.
She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, wiping away more tears. If she lost Izzy, she didn’t know what she’d do.
Desperate to keep it together until she was released so she could find her little girl, she forced her mind to her work.
Images of former patients, children in need, their parents’ gratitude that she’d given their children a chance at a normal life, flashed behind her eyes.
Little Robin, who had a scar from falling through a window. Seven-year-old Jacob, who’d suffered abuse at his father’s hands—she’d repaired the damage to his face, although the sweet child would never get his vision back in his left eye. Tiny Sariana, whose leg had been burned in a car accident. Baby Jane Doe, who’d been left for dead in the woods and mauled by an animal.
There were other children and families out there who needed her.
But what would they think if they discovered she’d given a new face to a human trafficker so he could escape?
Carina had borne the brunt of his vile ways and barely survived.
Mila had promised to protect her baby. But she’d failed. Now Izzy was in the hands of DiSanti’s goons.
We know you helped some of our girls escape, the man who’d stormed into her clinic had said.
She massaged her temple. How had they known?
Had they been watching her? Or had they found one of the girls and forced her to talk? Maybe they’d discovered the underground ring that helped women and children and young girls escape abuse to find a better life?
Carina... Was she safe and still in hiding?
* * *
BRAYDEN WOKE TO a text from Lucas.
Bond hearing for Dr. Manchester at ten a.m.
Brayden took a quick shower, then dressed and rushed out the door. He drove to the diner near him, picked up coffee and a sausage biscuit and wolfed it down as he drove to Dr. Manchester’s clinic.
It normally opened at eight. A truck and sedan sat in the parking lot while an SUV was parked in the employees’ spaces. He spotted a woman in a nurse’s uniform at the door with an older lady holding a baby, and a thirtyish woman with a teenage boy.
“I’m sorry, folks, the clinic is closed today,” the nurse said. “Dr. Manchester won’t be here.”
Brayden hung back and listened to see if she offered more of an explanation, but she didn’t.
“We’ll reschedule as soon as I hear from her and we adjust our schedule,” the nurse said.
The lady with the baby walked toward the sedan and the young woman and teenager climbed in the truck.
Brayden approached the nurse cautiously. If she conspired to help DiSanti, he’d find out.
The nurse tacked a sign saying Closed on the door, then retrieved keys from her purse.
“Excuse me, Miss Zimmerman?”
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. “Yes?”
“The clinic is closed?”
“I’m afraid so. Did you have an appointment?”
He shook his head.
“Well, if you need one, call back and leave your number, and I’ll have our receptionist get back to you.”
“I’m not a patient,” Brayden said, then introduced himself. “Were
