“Now that’s not completely true. My client’s husband admitted they offered sex to him,” Emily reminded them.
“You have a point,” Colin admitted.
“I can’t say for sure they’re trafficking underage girls, but something is going on there. What if my gut is right about the girls and we ignored it and did nothing?” Emily asked. “I don’t know how I could live with myself.”
“Me neither,” Maggie responded.
The rest nodded and muttered their agreement.
“Like I told Colin earlier, each one of those girls is somebody’s daughter. We have to do something.”
CHAPTER 13
After an exhaustive conversation about their clandestine operation, and not much football watching, the gang decided to leave Camille and Jonathan in peace and call it a night. Those who would be involved agreed to reconvene the next afternoon to hammer out the details. Their best chance to go in for the massage, they agreed, would be Sunday evening. Depending on how things went, they could move on to the next phase of the operation Sunday night.
The evening was still early, around six o’clock. Colin and Emily decided to pick up some Chinese food to go at their favorite place, and head for her house.
“I’ll get the plates if you’ll pour the drinks,” Emily said as she reached up into her kitchen cupboard. The cartons of Chinese delicacies waited on the table for them.
“What would you like?” Colin stooped over and peeked into the refrigerator.
Emily glanced into the open refrigerator, and noticed a large bottle of sweet tea. “Iced tea is fine.” She brought the plates, forks, and napkins to the table and laid the place settings out while he poured the tea. They took their seats at the table and began spooning out the various dishes.
“I was proud of you today,” Colin said as he pulled a spring roll from one of the boxes.
“For what?” Emily stuck a piece of sweet and sour pork in her mouth and grinned.
“You really took charge of the discussion this afternoon.”
“I suppose when you feel strongly about something, it sort of takes over and compels you to do something about it.”
“I could see that. Pass me the fried rice, please.”
Emily picked up the small box of rice by the wire handle and handed it to him.
“You just need to be careful you’re on the right track. What if we find out there’s nothing going on there?” Colin opened the box and scooped some of it onto his plate.
“There’s definitely something going on in that place.” She wagged her fork at him. “It may not be what I think, but it’s definitely something.”
Colin reached out and put his hand on hers. “If you’re right, these people can be very dangerous. We need to be careful and do this thing by the book if we want any charges to stick.”
“Yes, sir,” Emily quipped.
“I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I.”
When dinner was over, they cleaned up the kitchen together and went to the living room to relax and watch a movie. They turned the TV on and scrolled through the Pay-Per-View choices.
“What do you want to watch?” Colin asked, pointing the remote controller at the television.
“Something romantic. How about—” Emily was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone.
“Sorry,” he mouthed, grimacing, as he pulled the phone to his ear. “Colin Andrews.”
She listened to his side of the conversation.
“He did? Where?”
He looked at Emily as he listened to the caller, then his gaze went beyond her, as if he was visualizing what the caller was saying.
“Okay,” he replied, looking down at his watch. “I can be there in about fifteen minutes. Keep him there.”
“What is it?” Emily asked, wide eyed.
“That was Ernie. Do you remember Mr. Osterman, one of the witnesses from the McCall murder case?”
“Yes, Delia’s neighbor. Why?”
“Seems old Mr. Osterman has taken up a new hobby.”
“A new hobby? What?”
“Using a metal detector to find buried treasures, Ernie said.”
“So, what does that have to do with you?” Emily knit her brows together as she tilted her head.
“Well, our old friend seems to have found a gun half buried in the bank down by the river that flows past his neighborhood.”
“Delia’s neighborhood? Do you think—”
Emily’s heart began to race and her mouth went dry. She could hardly get the words out she was so excited at the prospect that perhaps Mr. Osterman had found the gun that killed her late husband.
“Might be. I don’t want you getting your hopes up, though. It could turn out to have nothing to do with Evan’s murder.”