“I think you’re getting very brave, Agent Tyler. Actually, I’m calling because I want to help you.”
Tyler shook his head. He wasn’t that gullible. He said nothing and waited for the blackmailer to resume his emasculation for the day.
“You’ve been watching that compound on Mango Key for over a year now, haven’t you?” the blackmailer asked.
“That has nothing to do with you,” Tyler said. He removed the phone from his ear and was about to press the END button when he heard the blackmailer raise his voice.
“Don’t hang up.”
Now Tyler was sure the bastard had a camera on him, as there was no other explanation. He sure as hell wasn’t psychic. “Where is it?” Tyler asked. “I know you’ve been in my room, so I can only assume you weren’t in here just to touch my things. Though maybe you were. You tell me.” Tyler smiled. Two points for him.
“You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your pretty mug, sonny boy. Of course I’ve been in your room, and of course I’ve planted a camera, along with an audio device, and your phone is bugged, as you surely must know by now. You can toss everything and start anew, but it will be a waste of time. In a matter of minutes, maybe an hour or two at most, I will have the new items bugged just as easily as I did the first time. Now that we have that matter cleared, I want you to listen to what I have to say. We both know you’re about to become DEA refuse. Let’s just say I have recently been made aware of a certain event that not only will allow you to keep your job, but to rise to the top, as I’ve told you in previous phone conversations.”
Damn! Who in the hell is this? I know the voice, know it’s disguised, but I can’t pin it down. Think, dammit, where have I heard this voice before?
“Don’t waste your time trying to figure out who I am. You’ll never guess. Now, I am running out of patience with you, Larry. As they say, time is money, and I have wasted too much time already. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not? It’s your call.”
Did he? Tyler wasn’t sure, but if the blackmailer had a plan to dig his ass out from under the mile of crud he’d wedged himself under, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to listen to what he had to say. “I’ll give you one minute, then I’m hanging up. And I will not meet you tonight if this info turns out to be another line of your bullshit. You got that?” Tyler puffed his chest out. See? He could call the shots when he needed to. If only his father could hear him, he’d think twice before making fun of him again.
The blackmailer gave him the details of what he would need to do and when and where to do it in order for him to come out smelling like a rose with the big promotion to boot. If what his blackmailer said proved to be the real thing, then maybe, just maybe, he might have a snail’s chance of proving to his father, his former colleagues, and the world that he wasn’t simply the low-life, backstabbing coward they thought him to be. More important, that damned task force would disappear as soon as it became evident that he was headed for bigger and better things in the DEA. And he would be one up on that ball-busting Kate Rush.
“And you’re sure of this?” Tyler demanded one last time.
“One hundred percent. I’ll see you at eight o’clock sharp. By the way, since I have just saved your neck, I’ll want more than the original hundred grand we agreed on before. I think this is worth at least . . . let’s say half a million bucks.”
Tyler almost wet his pants. Half a million dollars! “I say no fucking way! I can’t get my hands on that kind of money, and if you’re so good at what you do, you should know that by now.” Tyler wanted to scream, kick the walls, and pound his fists on the bastard who continued to torment him with his unreasonable demands, but he couldn’t. If there was a way for him to save face, he would do whatever was necessary.
“Lawrence, Larry, I know you don’t have that kind of money, but I know you know someone who does. Figure it out.”
Without allowing him a chance to reply, the blackmailer ended the phone call. Tyler wanted to kill the son of a bitch. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure this out. The blackmailer must know that his father had a boatload of money, and if he knew that, then he also knew his father was the governor of the good old Sunshine State.
What the blackmailer didn’t know: It would be a cold, icy, downright frigid day in hell before he asked his father to lend him half a million dollars. He’d find it elsewhere.
Chapter 20
Jelly assured Kate that Josh and Roy were on the right track. “They’re smart, Kate. We’ve got hundreds of contacts in Cuba; in fact, one of them just so happens to be an old college friend of Roy’s. They’re pros, remember? And don’t forget, they once covered your ass, kept you alive.”
Kate nodded, “I know, but Cuba? You should have sent Sandy. She was raised in Cuba, knows the lay of the land, so to speak.”
“Trust me, they know what they’re doing.”
“I know, I know. I just hate it that you had to send them there.”
Jelly had arrived just hours after Sandy called him to tell him what they’d learned from Rosita. He’d immediately sent Josh and Roy to Cuba in search of Rosita’s aunt Constance and the man who called himself Mateo. The agents were sure that the two hadn’t used their real names in front of the girls, but then again, stupid is as stupid does, Jelly reminded them. Once Rosita had a chance to get to know Jelly, she would have him ask her if he could question her about her life in Cuba. She’d submitted to his questions, but Kate knew the poor girl was getting tired. Hell, she was tired. Sandy and Pete had just left for their dinner date in Key West. Jelly had whispered something in Sandy’s ear before she left. Kate saw the glum expression settle on her dearest friend’s face and knew her “dinner date” was going to be anything but. More like a stakeout, and not the kind of stakeout one equated with dinner.
She made the umpteenth pot of coffee, and Tick made ham sandwiches for the four of them. As was becoming the norm, Rosita’s eyes lit up like shooting stars when she was offered food. Kate wondered how often dear Aunt Constance had fed the child or if she’d used food as a means to control her and the “cousins.”
After they’d consumed the stack of sandwiches and drained the pot of coffee, Kate told Rosita she should rest for a while and led her into Tick’s room without bothering to ask if he cared. Somehow she knew Tick was as taken with Rosita as she was. The child was wise beyond her years, but Kate saw a side of her that possibly only a mother could see. The need to be loved and cared for. When Rosita spoke of her mother and father, Kate’s heart broke. She doubted that, after all these years, they were even alive, let alone waiting for their daughter to arrive to provide her with a room of her own. Kate had wanted to ask Rosita just how many girls shared a room in Cuba, but she’d seen the scattered mattresses over at the compound. A room of one’s own would be a luxury unlike any other.
After Kate settled Rosita in for a late-afternoon nap, she, Jelly, and Tick migrated to the porch, where they could talk without fear of being overheard. Rosita had seen enough. It was time to allow her to be taken care of until they knew exactly where things stood.
Out on the porch, they settled themselves in the lounge chairs. The late-afternoon air was balmy, with the temperature still hovering around the ninety-degree mark. Bird chose that moment to swoop out the front door and settle on Tick’s shoulder. “Get the girls! Get the girls!”
Jelly almost fell out of his chair. “What did that bird just say?”
Tick laughed. Jelly hadn’t been introduced to Bird’s extensive vocabulary yet. Wait until he heard the bird when he got up a head of steam.
“He’s been with me almost since I found this place. He sort of adopted me at some point after I moved here. I suspect he might have belonged to someone over at the compound. He’s got quite a vocabulary. He even speaks Spanish.”
Jelly rolled his eyes. “I’d have to hear that to believe it.”
Tick rolled off a few words in Spanish. When Bird replied in Spanish, Jelly just shook his head in
bewilderment. “Never say never. I sure would like to know what the old Bird has seen over there. Or maybe not. It doesn’t look good on finding the girl’s parents alive.”
“Are you telling us you know something, or are you just assuming?” Kate asked.
“Actually, a bit of both. Southwest Florida being such a breeding ground for immigrants wanting to touch US soil, I know you’re both aware of this, but hear me out. They’re coming by the boatloads now. Someone is providing them with fancy speedboats, cigarette boats, and enough fuel to take them to safety in Miami. Once they touch our sandy beaches, we have no choice but to take care of them. It’s truly a pitiful sight seeing the hundreds of men, women, and children who manage to make it here safely. They actually kiss the ground or your feet. Now that Castro’s brother Raúl has taken the reins, it appears to some that those ninety miles to freedom are worth the risk. We’ve seen more immigrants in the past year than ever before. Then come the smugglers, who are looking to make big bucks. It’s a food chain in a sense. There’s the HMFIC, and I know you both know what that means, so don’t ask me to repeat it because I won’t. Plus there are tender ears just inside. From what I can see, that poor kid has heard and seen enough to last a lifetime.”
“Get to the point, Jelly.” Kate turned to Tick, who was seated next to her. “He can really go on and on if you don’t put a stop to it.”
“I don’t know what HMFIC means,” Tick offered out of the blue.
Kate whispered, “It’s head mother F in charge.”
Tick simply shook his head and smiled a smile so broad it sent a sparkle to his eyes and butterflies directly to the pit of Kate’s stomach.
Jelly laughed at Kate, then continued where he left off. “Someone with big bucks is financing these immigrants. Even worse, someone is promising them a pot of gold when they arrive. They’re told they must pay for the risky trip to the US, and, of course, they’re agreeable, anything to set foot in the good old US of A. This is where they’re exploited by the big boys. Once they’re here, more often than not, families are torn apart. The men are sent to work in the citrus camps, the women, depending on their age and looks, are either sent to work as sex slaves, prostitutes, maids, or strippers. They do this willingly because they’re so damned grateful to be here. The jerks who do this know it and use it to their advantage. They threaten the immigrants with being sent back to Cuba, so they continue to work in the lowliest professions. The children are used in ways that I don’t even want to put a voice to, but they’re farmed out 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 around that,” Jelly explained.
Tick stood up, stretched, then sat back down. “Why can’t she simply stay here until a relative is located?” He looked at Jelly, then at Kate. “I know how to take care of a kid. Remember I . . . let’s just say I’ve had a bit of experience.”
Kate’s heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. Tick had had children in another life, as she knew. Did he really believe he could take care of Rosita? He was a recovering alcoholic and a loner who lived on an almost secluded island, plus he talked to that Bird. Kate didn’t think his chances were good if he were to appear in court to apply for temporary custody. She wanted to tell him that, save him from the possible disappointment and heartache, but she didn’t have the heart to break his any more than it had been broken already.
Jelly rubbed his hand back and forth over the stubble on his chin. The sound reminded Kate of sandpaper. “Actually, Tick, that might not be a bad idea. The girl has been through enough as it is. I’ll place a few phone calls. I might be able to get a temporary custody order without all the hassle of going to court.”
Kate looked at Jelly as if he’d taken temporary leave of his senses. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean . . . it’s just that, Tick is a man, and—”
“Men can’t take care of children? Or were you going to say alcoholics can’t take care of children?” Tick’s facial expression grew serious. His eyes hardened as he stared at her.
Kate wiped her damp hands on her shorts. She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure what I was going to say, though I’m sure you’re quite ca
pable of caring for Rosita. I’ve seen it with my very own eyes. It’s just, I don’t know if staying here on Mango Key is such a good idea after what she’s suffered over there, at that . . . that hellhole.”
Jelly nodded in agreement. “Kate has a point.”
“Then I’ll rent a house in Key West. With the economy and everything, it shouldn’t be hard to find a place suitable for a child,” Tick said.
“Okay, okay. I’ll keep that thought in mind. She’s fine where she is, at least for now. Kate, you and Sandy can help Tick out. That is, if you . . . can you even take care of a kid?” Jelly gave a short laugh. “Forget I said that. You’re Kate Rush, and Kate Rush can do anything she sets her mind to.”
“You’re right, Jelly, I can. And I can take care of a child. I’ve always wanted a kid . . . well, you know how it is. I’m not getting any younger. I wouldn’t mind caring for Rosita for a while.” She cast a glance at Tick. “Until a proper family can be found.”
“Then I’ll make those phone calls now.” Jelly stood, stretched, then excused himself and walked down the steep flight of steps leading to the beach.
“So you’re saying you’ll come to Key West with me?” Tick asked.
Damn, damn, and double damn. She’d set herself up big-time. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to care for Rosita, even if it means moving in with you and that damned Bird.”
Tick smiled, and this time it definitely reached his eyes.
To quote Bird, Kate was in deep shit!
Chapter 21
Thurman Lawrence Tyler slammed the phone down so hard the handset shattered. Bits of plastic littered the top of his custom-made mahogany desk. His carefully constructed life was about to fall apart, but he refused to let that happen. He’d been in the weeds before and managed to salvage his political career. He could do it again.
“Elizabeth, can you come in here?” He knew his wife was eavesdropping outside the door.
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