cloud Jake’s opinion of everything she said. Sheriff Carter would’ve listened without second-guessing. She tilted her chin up. “I’m here because if we don’t find out who bought these kids, they’ll probably end up dead.”
Jake held up a hand. “Whoa. What do you mean by ‘bought’ them?”
“From what Luke said, the owner of the sweatshop—”
“Who?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t know the man’s name. Called him the boss. From what Luke said, the owner gets them out of Chicago if they’ll work for him for six months to a year. There’s only one reason I can think of that would make the kids agree to that.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “If they’d been arrested?”
“I think so. What if the Chicago police are involved? I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. I’ve seen my fair share of corrupt officers.”
Jake stood and paced the length of the jail. “Let me get this straight. A kid is arrested in Chicago. The police contact the sweatshop owners and make a deal. The city gets rid of the boy, and the sweatshop gets free labor for six months to a year. The kid isn’t charged with a crime, he gets out of Chicago, and everybody’s happy.”
“Pretty much.” Livy crossed her arms. “Except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The sweatshop owner has no intention of letting the kids go after six months. Do you think anybody who’s buying children will let them walk away when the specified term is up? Hardly. He can’t afford to.”
Jake took a deep breath. “Where are all these kids coming from?”
Livy shook her head. “Who knows? Some lose their parents to sickness, and some are abandoned. Other families lost their farms and got split up by the war.”
* * *
Jake raked a hand through his hair. Having a bunch of older boys preying on the citizens of Chestnut was one thing, but knowing that someone might be shipping in children to work in a sweatshop was a different matter altogether. Where to begin looking? The logical place would be shantytown. “All right. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me. You’ll let me know if you hear anything else, won’t you?”
Livy crossed her arms. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You need my help, and you know it.”
“Uh-uh.” Jake mirrored her stance. “You’re going right back to the orphanage where you belong.”
She glared at him, blue eyes spitting fire. “Make me.”
He glared right back, wanting to shake her and take her in his arms and kiss her all at the same time. He did none of the above. “I could lock you up.”
She laughed. “We’ve been over that before. You don’t have any grounds. If you won’t accept my help, then leave me alone. I’ll look around, and if I find out anything important, I’ll let you know.” She turned toward the door.
Jake took three strides and grabbed her arm. “Hold on a minute. You’re not going to find out anything.”
She shrugged him off. “Jake, you have a choice. You can take me with you when you start looking for the sweatshop—there may be more than one—or . . .” Her gaze slid to the cells at the back of the jail. “Or you can lock me up. I won’t see these kids dead.”
Jake watched her face; she meant every word. She’d just get in the way if he let her tag along. But on the other hand, he’d be able to keep her out of trouble. He let loose a grim smile. “All right; you win. I’ll stop by the orphanage about ten tonight.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He leaned against the doorjamb and watched her pick her way down the boardwalk, daintily holding her cloak above the icy slush. His gaze narrowed. After one night of trying to keep up with him in this weather, she’d have enough of this foolishness and be ready to leave everything up to him.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Douse the light. Somebody’s coming.”
The mine plunged into darkness, and Luke and the other boys waited. Just his luck that the new hiding place he’d been scouting for himself and the other street kids was so quickly discovered. He wouldn’t be coming back here anytime soon. A dim light flickered along the walls, leading the way for whoever had entered the abandoned mine.
“Be still, you little beggar.”
Luke’s mouth went dry as he recognized Grady’s voice. Shadows, long against the moisture-slick walls, drew closer as Grady appeared. He held a lantern in one hand and a child in the other.
“Let me go.” The boy