Heated
Page 46

 J. Kenner

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“Are we still talking about the room?”
“What else?” His smile was all innocent.
What else indeed.
I tossed him a saucy smile, bent to retrieve his pants and T-shirt that I’d worn in the park. “Thanks for the loan,” I said, “but the shirt has grass stains—and I’d rather have pants that fit. Do you think The Drake’s gift shop has clothes?”
“While I’m tempted to just keep you naked, you have clothes there,” he said, pointing to the dresser. “Top left drawer, I believe.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And how exactly did my clothes get here?”
“You left your address on your application.”
“Yeah. The address to my locked apartment to which you don’t have a key.”
He waved my words away. “It wasn’t any trouble. Cole is exceptionally skilled in two areas. Art and lock-picking. The second he has no occasion to use anymore.”
He said the last so piously I had to laugh. “But he used to?”
“His misspent youth,” Tyler confirmed as he fastened his broken watch to his wrist.
“With you?”
“More or less. I told you. We both did a lot of misspending before we became tight.” He nodded to the clock. “We should get going,” he said.
“Right.” I hurried to finish putting on my shoes. I didn’t bother with makeup. For one thing, I rarely bothered with makeup. For another, I’d seen the setup in the dressing rooms at Destiny. I could get fixed up before my shift.
“How do you feel about donuts?” Tyler asked.
“I’m a cop. Take a guess.”
“Then we’ll eat on the way.”
He’d meant it about the donuts, and before we got on the highway, he pulled into a bakery and got four dozen, but only shrugged when I asked him why so many.
Then we were on the road again, and I was about to drool from the incredible aroma of dough and sugar.
“We’re heading north?”
“More or less.”
“To where?”
“My house,” he said.
I turned to him. “I thought you said it was about Amy.”
“About your search for her, yes.”
“How?” I asked, a little bit wary, a little bit concerned, but mostly curious.
“Don’t get your hopes up, but there are some people she may have confided in.”
“Oh. Who?”
He turned to me long enough to grin. “Girls,” he said. “Quite a few girls.”
I saw some of those girls when he pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous mansion, house, manor. I wasn’t sure what to call it. I did, however, remember what year it had been built. “Eighteen fifty-six, right? And this is Old Irving Park?”

He glanced sideways at me before he killed the engine. “You did your homework on me.”
“I did. But I never imagined this.” The place was stunning. Huge and grand, yet somehow still comfortable, it sat on a lot that had to cover at least three acres, maybe more. It was painted an inviting yellow and had a wraparound porch and a lovely portico.
I also hadn’t imagined the girls. “Who are they?” I asked of the women who were lying out on the lawn sunbathing, sitting on the porch reading, and even working on a car that was on blocks near the back of the house.
“The residents,” he said.
“Come again?”
“Why don’t you come inside and I’ll explain it to you.”
I followed him into the stately place that managed to combine a modern flair while still keeping the feel of centuries past.
“Tyler!” A woman in a bathrobe stood on the massive staircase, her grin wide. She had a trim figure and hair that fell in ringlets. She wore no makeup, and looked one hell of a lot better than I did.
I considered hating her on sight, but decided to withhold judgment.
“Maisie, this is Sloane. She’s a new dancer at Destiny.”
Maisie’s brow furrowed and she looked sharply at Tyler. “I thought you said it was over.” Fear filled her voice.
“It is. It’s done. It’s over. And they aren’t going to hurt any of you again. Sloane came to Destiny through the traditional application process. And she’s not moving in here.”
“Oh.” Her tentative smile widened. “Oh, well, that’s great. You’re going to love it there, really.” She glanced back at Tyler. “I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?”
“No. Sloane knows everything,” he said, looking hard at me.
“Everything,” I agreed, wondering what the hell “everything” was.
“Maisie’s living here while she attends community college,” Tyler explained. “She’s hoping to apply for a four year program next year.”
“The Tyler Sharp scholarship program,” Maisie said with a grin. “Listen, I’m starved. I was just heading toward the kitchen.”
“Take these,” Tyler said, passing her the donut boxes. But before she went, he asked if she recalled Amy. She did, but didn’t know where she’d landed in Vegas. For that matter, none of the girls in the house—eighteen of them—had a clue.
“It was a long shot,” Tyler said. “The girls who live in the house are pretty tight. From what I’ve seen they don’t hang out as much with the other girls—like you and Amy—who come in through the front door.”
“Is that what I did?” I said wryly.
“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.”