A soft tap at the door startled her. She rushed to it but didn’t say anything. She put her ear against the door. Maybe whoever it was—housekeeping?—would go away. She’d put the do-not-disturb placard on the doorknob.
“Vanessa, it’s Liam. Open the door.”
Liam tapped on the door softly again. He was almost positive he had the wrong place. This was the address of the hotel Vanessa had mentioned on the voice mail, but this could not possibly be right.
Was it some sort of trap? Liam pulled his weapon from the belt holster attached to his jeans, but kept it low to his side. Had one of his enemies—and he had made plenty of them over the years—found out about his past with Vanessa and planned to use her against him in some way?
Because if that was someone’s intent, it had succeeded brilliantly. Here Liam was, completely out in the open, at every possible tactical disadvantage, all because Vanessa had called.
But his history with Vanessa was long ago and buried pretty deeply. He hadn’t even told his best friends about what had gone down between them. So he didn’t really think there was any devious master plan, such as someone forcing her to make a phone call against her will.
But he still didn’t put his weapon away. There was no way in hell Vanessa Epperson would be staying at a hotel like this if she had any other choice.
You really couldn’t call it a hotel. It was more of a run-down motel, with all room doors leading directly outside to a parking lot that desperately needed repaving. There was no room service, spa or concierge.
Ergo—and obviously he’d been hanging around too many overthinking profilers at Omega if he was using words like ergo—no Vanessa.
He must be at the wrong place. He eased his weapon back into the holster and was turning to leave, not wanting to disturb whatever non-Vanessa person was sleeping in the room, when the door cracked open just the slightest bit.
“Liam?”
It was her. He couldn’t see her through the crack, but he would know her voice anywhere, even if he hadn’t heard it in her message recently.
“Yes. Are you okay? Let me in?” He took his weapon out again.
For a minute he didn’t think she was going to do it, but then she stepped back and opened the door far enough for him to enter.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. The room was dark because of the pulled shades and he could hardly see her.
Liam looked around but didn’t see anyone else that could be threatening Vanessa in the darkened room. He reholstered his weapon. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? You called me, needing help. That’s what I’m doing here.”
“Oh,” she whispered again. “I thought you’d just call me back and leave me the contact info of someone in the DEA or something similar. Were you in the area?”
“Something like that.” Absolutely nothing like that. “Why are we whispering?”
Vanessa turned and pointed over her shoulder. “Her.”
There was a very small person balled up on the bed.
Okay. This was definitely not what he’d expected. The dumpy hotel. The hiding. The kid sleeping in the bed. “Vanessa, what the hell is going on?”
She shushed him with her finger then grabbed his arm, pulling him into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
Now he could see her.
He refused to let his breath be stolen just because he was seeing her again for the first time in eight years. But damn if he could stop himself from staring at her.
Her hair was shorter now. Stopping just past her shoulders rather than flowing down to nearly her waist as it once had. But it was still that same deep auburn color that reminded him of fall leaves or russet chrysanthemums. Her eyes were the same soft brown—although she had often worn colored contacts when she was a teenager, always wanting to be more dramatic. That had never made sense to Liam. Her eyes were stunning just the way they were.
She was still tiny. God, he’d forgotten how little she was. Her personality was so big, people tended to forget that she was barely five foot two and couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. Standing beside her now, Liam towered over her. As always, it didn’t intimidate Vanessa.
Something was different about her now. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it exactly, but something about her had changed.
Of course she was more mature, in her looks, even in her movements. But it was more than just that. Something in her eyes was different—a depth that hadn’t been there before.
A depth that was only caused by living through pain. Real pain.
He knew that look, had seen it often enough when he served in Afghanistan with other men who had known heavy loss. A pain that would never be fully erased.
Liam couldn’t even reconcile seeing a look like that on Vanessa. It just wasn’t possible. He had known her since she was fifteen years old. Knew firsthand how selfish and self-centered she was.
So he had to be wrong about whatever he thought he saw in her eyes now.
“That girl out there is what the hell is going on,” she said.
Liam had been so deep in his own thoughts he had forgotten he’d even asked the question.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Karine. That’s all she’s told me so far. I found her when I was walking the Sound yesterday evening.” Her eyes shot away from his as she said the words. “She was unconscious on the ground, in only a T-shirt. A teenager.”
“Runaway?”
Vanessa cracked open the door so she could check on the girl and then closed it again. “No. I think she was part of a human-trafficking ring, Liam. She’s from Eastern Europe somewhere—Estonia, I think she said—and was being held on a boat. Says there are other girls. Seven of them.”
Liam muttered a curse under his breath. Human trafficking had been a huge issue up and down the entire east coast for years. He wasn’t surprised to hear something had popped up in the Outer Banks. The string of islands was an ideal place to bring in a boat unnoticed. Easy access and tourists year-round, so locals wouldn’t pay particular attention to a boat they didn’t recognize.
What Liam didn’t understand was why Vanessa felt local law enforcement might already be aware or even a part of the situation.
“Explain more why you don’t want to go to the local police. They would be best equipped to handle this, or at least begin the investigation. Have the most knowledge of the area.”
Vanessa shrugged. “I’ll admit I may be wrong about this. But I took Karine to the hospital yesterday evening so she could get checked out. She seemed to be keeping it together pretty well until she saw a sheriff’s deputy at the nurses’ station. She freaked out, Liam. Completely panicked.” She touched his arm as she said it, then immediately dropped her hand again as if burned. “Sorry.”
Liam had no idea what to say about her touch, so he just ignored it. “Did you press her about it?”
“Yes. It wasn’t that particular officer she recognized, but she was convinced it was someone wearing that uniform.”
The sheriff’s uniform hadn’t changed in the years that Liam was gone from the Outer Banks. It was still brown; still ugly. But it wasn’t the only ugly brown uniform in the area—Liam hated to think they were suspicious of law enforcement when it could actually be a package delivery guy who was the perpetrator. A traumatized girl could easily be forgiven confusing