Heated(74)

“Compared to them, yes. But I thought they might have heard something in passing.”

“So what am I missing?” I asked. “How did these girls end up at Destiny? What was Maisie afraid of?”

“I’m surprised, Detective. I thought you would have figured it out.”

“The trafficking?”

“Got it in one.”

I shook my head. “Actually I didn’t,” I said. “Explain.”

“How much do you know about our immunity deal?”

“Very little,” I admitted. “Just that it exists.”

He nodded. “The situation’s complex—lots of years, lots of people. But what it boiled down to was that Evan and Cole and I stumbled onto a white slavery ring. It was big. It was pervasive. And it was very, very dangerous.”

I nodded. I hadn’t dealt with any interstate prostitution rings, but I knew enough to understand the breadth—and danger—of what he was talking about.

“What did you do?”

“We wanted to shut it down, but that’s easier said than done. We started gathering evidence and got it to the Feds—we did it anonymously.”

“Why anonymously?” I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

“We’re private men, with sensitive business operations. We all wanted it stopped, but we didn’t see the necessity of putting ourselves under the microscope.”

Which, I assumed, meant that they were protecting their own illegitimate enterprises.

“Those tips resulted in the creation of a federal task force.”

“The one Angelina’s father oversaw.”

“Right. And while the task force started working to eliminate the heart of the beast, we did the only two things we could—we continued to gather intel, and we pulled out as many girls as we could.”

“Pulled out?”

He nodded. “Their network worked a bit like the Underground Railroad, only taking the girls to slavery rather than out of it. They would move them from location to location, sometimes under false pretenses—telling them they were going to be an actress, a model, something. When we got intel on a girl or group of girls, we slid in. The three of us, some of our security staff, it depended on the situation.”

“But didn’t that blow the whole operation? They’d know they were made before there was sufficient evidence to convict.”

“That’s why we couldn’t get out all the girls. We had to play it safe. Go in as if we were clients. Or representing some foreign royal who was looking for a mistress. Sometimes we just initiated a car wreck and otherwise made it look like the girls simply escaped. Point is, we were creative.”

“And you got the girls. That’s wonderful,” I said, meaning it.

“Not all of them,” he said, his voice heavy.

“You made a difference,” I countered, reaching out to brush my hand over his. “And you brought them here?”

“Most. Some had homes, but most were lost already. Runaways, homeless. Wannabe actresses who got sucked into the seamy side of the dream. If they didn’t have a place to go home to, we gave them one, and we gave them a job. Dancing if they were able. Waiting tables if they weren’t.”

“And more,” I said. “Maisie said something about a scholarship?”

“She’s exaggerating, but yes. If they stay clean and keep their grades up, we help them get an education. And if they need help finding a job, we help them with that, too.”

“You three are amazing,” I couldn’t keep the emotion out of my voice. It felt a little like pride, and a whole lot more like respect. “Thank you for telling me. For bringing me here.”

We were standing on the front porch, looking out at the beautiful lawn and the graceful old trees and the women who were making a better life there.