Southern Comfort - Fern Michaels [79]
A raging inferno coursed through Kate’s veins. She eyed the others. She could see that the child’s words had affected them just as deeply. She would strangle the person who’d said that to Rosita, then she’d dangle the bastard . . . Oh, what the hell, before Kate finished with them, whoever did this would remember Kate Rush for a long time. In order to continue her questioning of Rosita, Kate took a deep, calming breath. And another.
“That’s a very mean thing to say to someone. Was this person someone you know or a stranger?” Kate knew she came off as though she were talking to a three-year-old, but this was just her way of calming herself. What she really wanted to do was find the SOBs and choke the life out of them and feed them to the sharks, though Kate thought surely the sharks would spit them out, and the bottom feeders would gag at the first bite.
Rosita finished her milk and wiped her mouth before taking her paper plate to the garbage. When she finished, she sat back down. “It was both.”
Kate could hardly contain herself. Sandy saw this and took over the questioning until Kate was calm enough. This was her baby, and Sandy knew she’d want to finish what she’d started.
Sandy leaned across the table and took Rosita’s hand in hers. She spoke to her in Spanish first but stopped when Rosita shook her head. “I speak better English. In Cuba, I spoke a little Spanish, but not much. I was trained at an early age to speak English. They said I would have a good future if I learned and followed the training. I practiced every day until I could think in English.”
Kate couldn’t hold back. “My God, how old were you when you were told this?”
Rosita shook her head. “I was maybe five or six. I cannot remember.”
“Can you tell me how old you are now? Your real age. Not the age they told you to say.”
Rosita seemed to consider Kate’s question with such intensity that she almost wished she hadn’t asked.
“I will be fourteen my next birthday.”
So she was only thirteen!
Kate observed Tick as he balled his hands into fists. She could feel his inner rage across the small room. She glanced at him, saw pain slashed across his face, and knew that having Rosita here in his home brought back all his painful memories of the past. She knew about his family but certainly didn’t know him well enough to go there. Maybe, in time, he would share that part of his life with her, but for now, they had to find the son of a bitch who had treated this child as though she were nothing more than a thing to be toyed with. Animals were treated better.
“Exactly what were you being ‘trained’ to do?” Kate asked even though she had a strong suspicion she already knew.
“I cleaned the houses for the rich people in Cuba. They told me I would make a lot of money in Miami, and I could have my own room, plus I would be with my family.”
Tick stepped over to the table. “Rosita, where are your parents?”
The million-dollar question Kate was dying to ask, but she wanted to glide into those waters without upsetting the child any more than she had already. She watched the child carefully. She didn’t appear to be upset in the least. As a matter of fact, Rosita was smiling like she’d been given the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
“I was told they would be in Miami waiting for me. I have not seen them since I was a very small child. Around three, I think. I so wanted to get to Miami so I could find them. Mateo . . . uh, I was promised if I worked very, very hard, they would help me locate them.”
“Who is Mateo?” Tick asked. Kate knew this was the cop talking, not the father who’d lost his family. He wasn’t wasting words.
She shook her head again. “I am not sure. He . . . he said he was my cousin.”
Pete slid out of his chair, and Tick sat down across from Rosita. Kate observed this, thinking, Okay, we’re back in father mode.
“Why don’t you just tell me your story. The way you remember. Think you can do that for me? I swear on my life I will not allow anyone to hurt you. Do you trust me, Rosie?”