then looked down at her hands on the table.
“Please talk to me,” Brayden said quietly.
Dr. Manchester sighed warily. “I already told you that I don’t know where they were taking DiSanti.”
Brayden let the silence stretch for a moment. “They didn’t mention a city or town?”
She shook her head no. “I’m sorry. I...don’t know what else to tell you.”
“Stop giving me the runaround,” Brayden said, his voice firmer. “Did you know who DiSanti was when you performed plastic surgery on him?”
Fear flashed in her eyes.
“You did,” he said, reading her reaction. “But you helped him anyway.”
She averted her gaze, then massaged her forehead again with a shaky hand.
“We know DiSanti has amassed a fortune,” he continued. “Is that the reason you did it? For the money?”
Her troubled gaze jerked to his, but she bit her lip and didn’t answer.
“Charlotte insists you do good work, that you donate your time and expertise to help people, especially children, in trouble.” He raised a brow. “That description doesn’t fit with you giving someone like DiSanti a new identity.”
Dr. Manchester pressed a fist to her mouth and breathed heavily.
“Help me out here, Doc. I’m trying to understand.”
“No one can understand,” Dr. Manchester said, a warble to her voice.
“I might if you talk to me.” Dammit, he wanted to believe her. Wanted her to be the person Charlotte described.
“Did he donate money to the clinic in exchange for a new face?”
She shook her head, misery darkening her eyes.
Brayden’s patience was wearing thin. “Did you owe him for some reason?”
She twisted her hands together.
“Come on, Dr. Manchester, I can’t help you if you don’t confide in me.” He racked his brain for answers, then it hit him. “You’re afraid. Did DiSanti and his people threaten you?”
* * *
MILA WANTED TO spill the entire story and assure him that she despised DiSanti and his men, that she’d never do anything to help them. That the entire time she’d been operating on him she’d felt sick to her stomach.
Most of all, she wanted to beg Brayden Hawk to check on her daughter.
But what if DiSanti’s men were watching?
According to the news, the police suspected DiSanti had a local contact in Tumbleweed. Who knew how many he had in Austin?
Or who they were. He might have contacts right here in the FBI or at the local police department.
She didn’t know whom to trust.
Brayden leaned across the table and pierced her with those blue eyes, eyes that were ice-cold. “Talk to me, Doc.”
She chose her words carefully. “I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Mr. Hawk, but I can’t.”
He cleared his throat. “Please call me Brayden. If you’re concerned I’ll tell the FBI, you don’t have to be. As your attorney, I’m bound by attorney-client privilege.”
Maybe she should talk to him. If he understood, he’d send someone to see if Izzy was okay. “He’s your brother. How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
The ice in his eyes hardened. “Because I’m a man of my word. I chose law to help people.” He leaned closer. “And I think you’re scared and that you need a friend right now.”
Emotions swelled inside her at the compassion in his voice.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the door opened and Agent Hawk appeared again. This time another man in an expensive three-piece suit stood beside him. “Excuse me,” Agent Hawk said, “but Mr. Polk, Dr. Manchester’s attorney, is here.”
The suited man strode into the room, his skin pale, his dark glare intimidating. “Dr. Manchester, don’t say another word.”
Mila bit her lip. Brayden Hawk frowned and glanced at the man, then back at her. Suspicion took root in his expression, then a flash of anger.
She gripped the chair edge with sweaty fingers.
“Dr. Manchester, is Mr. Polk your attorney?” Brayden asked.
Mila barely stifled a scream of protest. But the attorney shot her a warning look, and she refrained.
“Is he your attorney?” Agent Hawk asked.
She blinked back tears and nodded. But she couldn’t look at Brayden. She had a bad feeling that Polk worked for DiSanti and Brayden knew it.
Worse, he hadn’t come to help her. He’d come to make sure she kept her mouth shut about DiSanti.
* * *
BRAYDEN STOOD, SHOULDERS RIGID, debating how to handle the situation. Dammit, he’d been making headway with Mila Manchester until this lawyer showed up. He’d seen the agony on her face when she’d looked at those pictures and was inclined to believe Charlotte.
Dr. Manchester had been coerced into performing surgery on DiSanti. That was the only explanation that fit.
And he had no doubt that Polk had been sent by DiSanti to protect DiSanti’s interests.
Mila looked terrified of the man.
He didn’t want to leave her alone with him, but unless she spoke up, he’d have to.
Lucas cleared his throat. “We’ll let you talk.”
He opened the door and gestured for Brayden to leave.
“What the hell?” Brayden said as they walked down the hall.
Lucas ushered him into a small office next to the interrogation room.
“You know that man is not her attorney,” Brayden said. “DiSanti sent him to keep her from talking.”
Lucas ran a hand through his hair. “Probably so. But unless she orders him to get lost or decides to answer our questions, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
He and his brother locked stubborn gazes. “Can’t you charge Polk with being an accomplice or something?”
Lucas gave him a wry look. “Not without probable cause or evidence. And we have nothing on the man.”
“Then find something,” Brayden said. “Because you can’t leave Mila alone with him or release
