“Don’t say motherfucker.” Felix tilts his chin toward baby Zora, asleep in her portable bassinet. “It’s time to clean this shit up. We’re supposed to be good examples for her.”
“Butshitis still on the table?” Cato quips.
“Do you think Cordoza was involved in Agosti’s thing?” Roscoe shows his hand with the finesse of a toddler faced with a white wall and a permanent marker in his hand. He sips his soda and studies Felix from across the table, his pulse pounding in his throat.They don’t make ‘em too bright over there at the FBI. “I thought Cordoza stayed clear of the skin trade?”
“We don’t know for sure the women belonged to Agosti.” I play with a loose lock of hair at the back of Minka’s head, curling the soft length around my finger and tugging just hard enough to elicit a subtle smirk and side glance. “They probably are, and we know for a fact he was a bastard. Buttechnically, we haven’t connected the two.”
“I don’t believe Cordoza knew about the girls.” Minka settles back in her chair and rubs her belly, sated on lasagna, garlic loaf, and salad. “Even if we agree Agosti brought them here, and we know Cordoza brought Agosti. Estefan cares for Michelle Mancino, and he knows she would toss his ass in the trash if he so much asconsideredtrading in women. He has more money than he’ll ever need, but he only has one Michelle. He wouldn’t risk her.”
“So Agosti’s an enterprising motherfucker,” Cato inserts. “He moved fast, from accepting his invitation to Tim and Aubs’ wedding, to coordinating an entire fuckin’ shipment on the fly.”
Gritting his teeth, Felix hooks a thumb back toward his daughter. “She hears you, even when she’s asleep, dickhead. Cut it out.”
“You probably shouldn’t say dickhead then, right?” Tiia hides a smile behind the lip of her wineglass. “Technically…”
Wide-eyed, Felix turns his glare on a giggling Christabelle and drags her chair closer. “Remind me again why we tolerate this?”
“Because we like her. And because Micah’s in luuurve.” She lays her head on his shoulder, holding his hand between her palms and laying them on her lap. “It’s so weird how she’s always got material to call you out on, though, right? It’s almost like you make it really easy on her.”
“Sexism,” Cato play-snarls. “It’s a mutiny.”
“Hardly,” Minka counters. “Felix’s lack of impulse control makes him an easy target. How many women was Agosti moving?”
Annnnd we’re back on topic. “Seventeen. Which is seventeen more than there should’ve been. Fletch and I didn’t get far today. From the moment we landed on the scene, we could tell they needed medical attention, clean clothes, and something to eat. Not an interrogation. Fabian ordered us to keep them at the hotel for now, instead of dragging them out to the hospital, so we swung by and grabbed as many doctors as they could spare.”
“Get in, losers. We’re going to a crime scene.” Cato’s eyes burn with a mixture of anger and dark humor. Pain and wit. Remembered horrors, and a slice of ‘thank fuck I’m free.’ “Did it help?”
“I hope so.” I spin the lock of hair around my finger. Twisting, twisting, twisting. “They don’t speak more than a word or two of English, so we’re trying to get a translator in to help. Physically, we got them looked at, and they’ve finally had something to eat. Most of them were without shoes when we arrived. Without basic hygiene and clean clothes. They seem to trust us—they trust the badge—so we’re making progress.”
“Where do you think they came from?” Christabelle wonders. “What language were they speaking?”
“I don’t know.” I turn my beer bottle, creating a ring of condensation on the crisp white tablecloth. “The rookie reckons they sounded kinda European. Ukrainian, maybe. Slovakian.” I shrug. “Today was about feeding and dressing them, and hopefully not scaring them more than they already were. Tomorrow, we’ll work on the rest.”
“Were they injured?” Tiia murmurs. “No one needed the hospital?”
“Not according to the doctors we brought in. No broken bones, no lacs, not even a case of dehydration. But they’re starving and terrified, and they refuse to be separated. Copeland PD has taken the hotel over, and we’ve assigned uniforms to every floor, every door. On the off chance this wasn’t Agosti, or if their buyer comes looking, regardless of Agosti’s death, the girls are protected, and the hotel’s other guests have been moved along. We collected their contact details, and they’ve givenstatements. The city’s footing the bill, and the girls are bundled into three groups. Three rooms.”
“Why’d you split them?” Minka tilts her head back and searches my eyes. “They’d benefit from staying together, right?”
“Technically? Yeah, probably. But we’re trying to understand what the fuck happened to them. It’s standard procedure to split witnesses and collect statements independently. But so many of them are minors in this case.” I shake my head and release a heavy exhale. “They’re babies, and isolating them is cruel. Child protective services are involved, and trauma counselors, too. We’re letting the professionals guide us through this, which is why Fletch and I are done for the day. CPS demanded food and rest for the girls. We’re not cleared to talk to them again until tomorrow.”
“So, what comes next?” Roscoe presses. “You get them to name Agosti, then this is referred to the FBI?”
I turn my face and bury my lips in Minka’s hair. “Don’t jump too soon, Special Agent. For as long as you’re in my home, you’re visiting on afamilyvisa.” I peek across at Micah and chuckle. “Your guest is getting out of pocket.”
He lays an arm over Tiia’s shoulder. Affection? Or locking her down? “Be nice, Arch. They don’t like that we’re still bitter.”
Tiia glowers at her brother. If eyes could speak, hers would be screaming, ‘quit it.’
“Wait.” Christabelle shoves forward, knocking her plate into her wine glass until the musicaltingplays throughout the room. “How did the autopsy go? Suicide or homicide?”
“Itlookslike suicide,” Micah inserts. “But these girls turning up kinda makes a man wonder, right?”
“You think Arch did it? Dude!” Felix smacks his arm, then he gestures toward Roscoe. “In front of the feds and everything?”
“No, I don’t think Archer did it.” He tosses Felix’s hand off, glancing my way and frowning. “But seriously, what are the odds? Maybe someone had information the rest of us didn’t. They knew what Agosti was doing, and that these girls were in trouble, so they stepped in and took care of business.” He casts dark green eyes back to Felix. “Cordoza’s been around the block a few times, Lix, and we know for a damn fact his instincts are usually pretty fucking right. If this was a hit, the way it kinda looks like it was, then whoever did it was right there under our noses.”
“Oh, shoot!” Minka knocks her wine glass over, fine crystal toppling with a clang, and white wine splashing a full foot to the left. She bounds to her feet and balls a fresh napkin in her hands. “Sorry, guys.”
