Deadly Exchange. Lisa HarrisЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.