Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [66]
“Nothing funny about it either,” Tick offered in a low voice.
Kate looked at him as though he were one slice short of a loaf. “You’re right, this isn’t funny. Though I can’t imagine why you’d think such a thing.” Then she remembered her thoughts and how she’d smiled. Kate had the grace to blush, thankful no one could see, considering it was dark inside the abandoned mansion, the only light coming from the moon shining in through the window.
“I don’t know about you three, but I think we need to get this child out of here before someone comes looking for her,” Pete said.
“Of course,” Sandy replied.
“Absolutely,” Kate joined in. “I’ll need to report this.”
Sandy glanced at Pete, who was staring at Tick, who stared at Kate as though she were from another planet. One that hadn’t been discovered. Yet.
“You can’t report this now. We don’t know who she is, where she came from, or why she’s even here. For all you know, her parents could be out strolling the beach. What would they think if they returned, only to find their child had been carried off by . . . strangers?”
Kate thought he had a point, but the odds of that actually coming to pass were slim to none. “We all know that’s highly unlikely. Why don’t you ask her?”
“She’s scared, and I don’t know if she understands English. Tick tried speaking to her in his limited Spanish, and she didn’t respond. As much as I hate to agree with the ol’ bro, I think he’s dead on the money this time.” Pete shifted the weight of the small girl to his opposite shoulder.
“Let’s get her out of here; then we can decide what to do. That fair enough?” Sandy suggested. In her native tongue, Sandy spoke in soft tones to the child, but the child didn’t respond. Later, when they had a plan of sorts, she would try to talk to the frightened little girl. For the moment, it was enough that she was safe.
Agreeing this was best for now, they hurried out of the compound and back to the beach. Tick grabbed the wet suits, along with the rest of their gear. As it was almost impossible to carry all the equipment without dropping it, Kate took one of the wet suits from him and handed Sandy the snorkels and masks. “I don’t even want to know why this stuff is here. I assume it belongs to you two?” Kate said, as they all walked away from the beach in front of the compound toward Tick’s place.
Tick explained. “We were snorkeling after the storm. Pete and I have been wondering what’s going on here. I’ve jogged in this area at night and heard . . . things. The Coast Guard does its nightly cruise-by regularly. They haven’t reported their suspicions to me, not that they’d have a reason to. Since you’re DEA, what’s your take on it? I assume you were sent here to observe that place.” Tick knew he sounded like a smart-ass whose turf had been invaded. Right now he didn’t care. He just wanted to get the kid to safety and let the hot-bodied DEA agents do their thing.
“You assume correctly,” Kate said, her voice firm and professional. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the details.”
Mockingly, Tick supplied, “Of course you aren’t.”
“And if I did, I’d have to kill you,” Kate said, as she rolled her eyes, glad for the darkness. When they finally arrived at the beach in front of the house on stilts, Pete shifted the girl to a more comfortable position before climbing the stairs. Looking over his shoulder, he called out, “Come inside, ladies. I think we’re going to need your help. This little one smells like she hasn’t had a good scrubbing in a while. I’m sure that you can make her bathing experience comfortable. If you’re up to it, that is.”
The last thing Kate wanted was another trip to her neighbor’s house, but Pete had a point. None of them knew what the child had experienced. Being stripped down to her bare skin by two strange men was bound to cause the poor kid even more trauma.
Sandy acknowledged Kate’s reluctance with a raised brow.
Kate nodded. “We really don’t