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By Root 652 0

to perverts and pedophiles; some of them hit the streets at eight or nine to prostitute themselves for these scum suckers. I think that”—Jelly nodded in the direction of what they all referred to now as the compound—“is what’s going on over there. We’re still digging for the current owner of the house. Can’t find a damned thing either. Someone with either deep pockets or political connections has hidden the current owner’s information so deep it may never be found. The person who built the compound, Benito Cruz, has been locked up for the past five or six years. I doubt it’s anyone connected to him. He’s watched like a hawk. I made a few phone calls to the warden up at Starke, told him to keep an eye out for any new visitors Cruz might have, anything out of the ordinary. The warden assured me nothing had changed, but I’m not naive. They’re behind bars because they’re criminals. Get a thousand or so together, and you’re bound to stir the pot, so I’m not positive Cruz is out of the picture, but I doubt his pockets are deep enough that he’s the big boy behind this operation. I called Tom Dolan, told him what’s going down, so he’s in for the long haul if we need him.” Again, Jelly motioned to the compound at the end of the island.

“What’s your gut telling you now, Kate? I know how you pride yourself on listening to your instincts.”

Kate felt Tick’s stare but didn’t bother to acknowledge it. She needed to keep her mind focused on what was real, and right now, her thoughts on Tick Kelly were anything but real. Lustful, yes, real, no way.

Kate cleared her throat a little too loudly. “I’m glad Homeland Security is covering our butts. That’s always a plus. My instinct is telling me this isn’t just your average run-of-the-mill human-smuggling operation.” She held her hand out, palm up. “Before you disagree, I don’t mean to imply that human smuggling of any kind is acceptable. This place here”—she mimicked Jelly’s move, nodding toward the compound—“is big stuff. My gut tells me we might find our ringleader safely ensconced right here in the United States. And something else that’s been bothering me since I spied that jerk Tyler out on the boat pretending to be a fisherman. Why is he here? Even if he’s supposed to be supervising the Miami operation, he’s been relocated to LA, so what brings him all the way across the country to Florida, and in particular, here to Mango Key?”

Jelly laughed. “Let’s just say this. When he shows up in Miami, which is not very often—hell, as you said, he operates out of LA and spends more time in Phoenix than he does in Miami—no one, and I mean absolutely no one, speaks to him. Not even the secretaries or the custodial staff. He’s the black plague. Of course, there is the ongoing investigation. He’s going to be out of a job soon. I don’t think his father will be able to pull strings this time around since he’s pulled all there are to pull. Tyler isn’t suited for this business, never has been. I kinda feel sorry for the guy.” Jelly took another sip of his now-cold coffee.

“Well I, for one, can’t wait to see the glory hound kicked to the curb. He’s been nothing but a pain in my butt since day one. Right now we have more important matters to deal with. Gut instinct aside, what are we going to do with Rosita if we can’t find her parents?” Kate knew the answer, but she did not want to hear it for fear her heart would simply crack and never heal.

“We’ll have to go the usual route, and while I know it’s not what either of you want to hear, it is what it is. She’ll have to go into foster care until a suitable family can be found to adopt her.”

Tick leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I don’t want to see Rosie go to a foster home. They’re not always up to par. I’ve taken kids away from foster parents who were worse than some of the lowlifes I put behind bars. Isn’t there something else we can do?”

Kate watched Tick and knew he was feeling the same way she felt. But Kate knew Jelly was right on the money.

“Unless we find a relative, odds are good that Rosita will have to go into foster care. I don’t see a way