understand how you get off on that shit.”
She could tell changing her mind was going to be a waste of time, so she didn’t argue with her. “Just give it a few days, and if you can’t, you can’t.” She sighed. “And for the record, I don’t get off on it. I’m trying to see to it that it stops happening.”
“Well, there you go again. Saving the world, Kiley. That’s not my gig. I don’t want to dig into the crap, seedy underbelly of society. I want to experience the excitement of life, not muck around in detritus. Look, it’s not that I can’t. I don’t want to.”
“But you’ve always been in favor of defending the little guy. That’s what you’re all about, Carmen. This is a wrong that has to be exposed.”
“Yeah, is that what you’re doing? Run off to lie on the beach in Florida?”
Panic began to seep into her veins with a cold fear that someone, probably her editor, had not kept her secret safe. The betrayal hurt.
“Who told you that?”
“Everyone knows, Kiley.”
“In just a couple of days, I’ll be sending in the end of the series. Then I’m going to turn in all my notes to the police and let them do the rest. After that, I’ll be coming back. You just do your investigation and feed me some of the facts, and I’ll help steer you where I think your investigation has promise. I’ve spent a lot of time studying this whole ring of bad boys. I’ve even met many of the players.”
“Is it true someone killed your cat?” Carmen asked.
“Yes. And slashed my tire.”
“And you don’t think I’d be in any danger, Kiley?”
“Not after I publish my story. But you’ll have all the background to do a killer follow-up. That’s something I’m just handing you, Carmen. If we expose this ring and get the light of justice shining down on them, you’d be helping the community. Heck, you might even get a medal for it. There could be a Pulitzer in it for you.”
Carmen agreed to scan and send pictures and a copy of the reports on file. Kiley gave her a couple of women’s shelters she could go interview, including the name of one of her sources who had been nearly killed in a botched trafficking event.
“I’ll call you back in two days, and if you have questions, put them in an email. No messaging. I won’t have this phone when I call back, so don’t try, okay?”
“Geez, this is all very cloak and dagger-like.”
A dark cloud of worry fell over Kiley when she considered that perhaps Carmen hadn’t taken her cautions seriously enough.
“Be smart. Don’t talk about it to anybody but Corbin, and even then, don’t tell him everything. Don’t leave your notes around your apartment or at your desk at the paper. If we’re careful, we could be doing a really great thing for the Portland community. But it also extends way beyond our city.”
“I’m on it. Look for that email in an hour or so, Kiley.”
“Thanks. You’re going to be great. Oh, and Carmen, no more talk about Florida. I’m not there. That was just a ruse.”
“Okay, if you say so.” Carmen hung up.
When Kiley turned around, Jason was standing against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look happy.
She wondered how much of her conversation Jason heard. Before she could try to give an explanation, he straightened up, his fists clenched at his sides.
“What the hell are you into, Kiley?”
“I can explain, Jason. I can explain it all—well, most of it, anyway.”
“You fuckin’ better. Just answer this question first, are you doing anything illegal here, because if you are, I cannot be involved. And I can’t know anything about it.”
“No. Come. Sit down, and I’ll tell you what I can.”
He sat across the coffee table from her, again crossing his chest with his arms, waiting.
“I’m working on a story for the Columbia Passage. That’s the big newspaper in Portland, where I live. I’ve uncovered some facts about a human smuggling ring operating out of several shelters in the area. I’ve been working on this story now for nearly two years. And I’ve so far published three installments. I’m about to publish the last one, but before I could get it done, I started getting death threats by phone. I got some letters at the office too. Someone broke into my apartment and trashed the place. Luckily, neither I nor my roommate were home at the time.”
“Who