Chapter Fourteen

“I’m going in,” Jake declared, his hands on his knees and his mind made up. Now that he knew what he was up against, the clock was ticking. Those little girls needed help, and he needed to move before Poindexter knew what hit him. A surprise attack was the only way, but it had to happen fast.

“In where?” Lacy asked, her eyes tearing up at what they all knew now to be true. Rafe had murdered Marlee Presley in the most gruesome fashion. The bastard had to pay.

“Into Poindexter’s downtown office. Let’s stop the bastard once and for all.”

“Sex slaves,” Jamaal hissed. His alcohol daze had faded. “It’s bad the world over, but it’s damned disgusting in Thailand and Cambodia. Parents there sell their little girls just so the rest of the family can survive. Damn it, I want to look at those pictures one more time.”

Jake didn’t need to. All they did was make him angry to the point of losing his self-control. They confirmed why his flesh crawled every time he’d seen Poindexter’s arrogant face on the cover of some magazine or newspaper at the newsstands. The only way this takedown could be sweeter was if Marlee had gotten a shot of Poindexter with one of those girls.

“Guys. Talk to me,” Lacy ordered, her voice quavering. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Jake took a deep breath. “Cambodia’s a stinking poor country. There’s no such thing as children’s rights over there, and it’s not uncommon for families to sell their daughter’s virginity when times get bad. It’s a sickening practice, but it’s been going on for generations. It’s one of those cultural beliefs where older men believe sex with a virgin will increase his virility.”

“The younger the better,” Jamaal growled, his finger tapping the mouse to click from file to file. “Look at this one. She look old enough to be doing something like this?”

Lacy peered closer. A young girl peered over the shoulder of the man named Croyden. Stark desperation showed on her face. “No. Someone’s put a lot of makeup on her, but look at her eyes. She should be at home with a loving mother. She’s just a little girl.”

“I say we go to the police with this, Weylin,” Jamaal declared. “Where’s your phone, Miss Lacy?”

“And do what?” Jake jumped to his feet. “All we’ve got is pictures of everyone but Poindexter in compromising positions. These jokers will be in trouble, but he’ll walk. No, Jamaal. I’m going into his office for that file in his safe. I want the smoking gun that ends this bullshit once and for all.”

“That’s why he’s able to do whatever he wants,” Lacy said thoughtfully. “He’s blackmailing these guys.”

“And some of them are damned powerful,” Jake agreed. “All he has to do is snap his fingers and they make whatever he wants, happen. Zoning variances. Real estate deals. Land swaps.”

“It’s not working so good for him here in Anacostia,” Lacy said.

“You don’t think so?” Jake asked. “Look around. Is there a grocery store within miles that anyone who doesn’t own a car can get to? I’ll be honest. More guys than just Jamaal and me have been getting beat up. I just never put two and two together until now. Think about the increase in arson. Lamont Adams’ place isn’t the only one that’s been torched in the last few months. It all makes sense now.”

Lacy’s eye color changed from forest green to nearly gray. “Marlee said the same thing, but you can’t go looking like you do,” she said quietly.

Jake stuck his fingers into the roots of his thick, messy hair. No, a wild man would tend to stand out in Poindexter’s office. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

“No,” she answered quickly, shaking her head. “I won’t. I’m not going to help you get killed. Like you said, look around. Where’s Marlee? And where are the rest of my friends from the clinic? I’m scared they aren’t alive anymore, Jake. I’m not going to lose you, too.”

Her voice had grown higher with every word, and he got it. He really did, he just didn’t have it in him to walk away from endangered children. Who else would save them if not him? Still, he couldn’t hurt Lacy, either. Fantine’s sweet words whispered a song of regret to him, of dreams dying and hope along with it. A familiar wave of helplessness surged up within his soul again. There had to be a way to reveal Poindexter’s vile sex trade without destroying the beautiful thing he’d just found with Lacy.

He put it to her and let her decide. “What would you have me do? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“Not fair,” she murmured, her tears glimmering once more.

“I know.” He fell to one knee in front of her, taking both of her hands in his. “It’s not fair, but what if that was your daughter in one of those shots? You of all people know what it’s like to be betrayed. Hell, Lacy, what if that was you? Should I call the police and stand around and wait for them to do something?”

She blinked, her eyes brimming with emotion, and he felt like an ass badgering her. “Their parents are the reason they’re with those men in the first place,” she said quietly. “You know that. If all you do is send them home, they’ll just get sold again.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, “and your parents are the ones who sold you out. You’re just like those little girls.”

“Not fair,” she whispered once more, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. Between her worry for him and the goodness he knew was inside her, Lacy battled her conscience and her common sense. Hell, he was too. Could he get into the mighty Rafe Poindexter’s office without raising suspicion, then get out with the incontrovertible evidence to bring him down? That remained to be seen. Would he try his damnedest? Could he bring Poindexter to his knees? You bet, but only with a lot of luck behind him, and—if he had Lacy stashed somewhere Poindexter couldn’t reach her.

“Life isn’t fair,” he said softly, her fingers as cold as ice in his hands. He lifted them to his mouth and blew warmth on them, rubbing them to chase the chill away.

“You’re just like me,” she said, so quietly that he leaned in closer to hear her better. “I paint. You do stupid stuff like getting yourself killed.”

He offered her the only argument he had left. “We’re Marines. I guess we were born to do everything the hard way. Go figure.”

She launched herself into his arms, nearly bowling him over. Jake caught her and settled back to the floor with her in his lap. Her tears wet his skin, and he choked. What am I doing? Hurting her to save others? What is wrong with me? He couldn’t even speak. All of his bravado had fled, and once more, he was just a man holding onto the most precious thing in his life. Afraid he’d lose it.

“I’ll help you,” she murmured into the crook of his neck, “but only on one condition. Don’t you dare die.”