Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(28)
That envious pang gripped Ross’s midsection again as Jasmine resisted for a nanosecond, then kissed her husband back so passionately that she didn’t notice when a cushion fell to the floor. Little Trey still slept peacefully, even when Ross rose to set the cushion back in place.
Jasmine seemed to sense his presence, and she pulled away from Chad, thoroughly kissed and thoroughly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, he likes to tease me.”
“Hmm, I can see that. Tell me, when I come to the old place, will I find a leather harness hanging from the beams?”
Chad burst into laughter as Jasmine turned her glare from him to Ross. “Am I never going to live that down?” she complained.
Both men said, “Nope,” simultaneously.
She joined in their laughter, and Ross felt the shadows that had been lengthening of late in his home retreat to darker corners, where they belonged.
Emm stared across the table at Dr. Doyle. They’d shared a nice meal, discussing the generalities of the case and the troubling statistics of human trafficking. Emm said, “The latest statistics I saw estimated seventy-seven percent of the women forced into trafficking are put into the sex trade and the remainder go into some type of menial labor.”
Dr. Doyle nodded. “Yes, thereabouts. And, of course, you probably know that of the people kidnapped or coerced, at least seventy percent are female.”
Emm nodded grimly. “So we should all be on the lookout?”
“Well, certainly those of us in law enforcement.”
Emm scowled. “Look, Dr. Doyle, I’ve had this lecture from Ross Sinclair. While I’m awaiting the structural engineer’s report on the Sinclair buildings, I have some time to look for my sister. And as you’ve already admitted, I’m excellent at research.” When Dr. Doyle neatly set her fork and knife over the edge of her plate and pushed it away instead of replying, Emm’s voice grew more insistent. “If you’ll just share some of the evidence with me, I’m sure I’d recognize anything owned by Yancy or Jennifer. . . .”
“I’ve already sorted through the clothing and such left at that warehouse. Cheap overseas goods that can be bought at any discount store in the U.S, very difficult to trace. . . .”
“Oh yeah? How come I had to tell Mr. Sinclair about Yancy’s custom pipe? And I only learned about it because of Curt’s article.”
“Ms. Rothschild, I admire your tenacity, truly, but these cartels are very dangerous, and there are indications they have accomplices throughout Texas, likely even Amarillo. Accomplices that don’t fit the profile; probably upstanding professionals who assist with the money laundering and currying political favors. A few Border Patrol agents and customs officials have even been paid off to look the other way.”
Emm wadded up her napkin and tossed it on the table. “So bug out and sit down and shut up. Just on the off chance I might be taken, too?”
Dr. Doyle sighed. “I’m not saying that. But as bright as you are, you’re not a law enforcement or intelligence professional, and these alliances are so wide ranging and difficult to track that just accumulating enough evidence to convict some of these people is very difficult. You could impact that information gathering without even knowing it.”
Emm gnawed at her lip. “I don’t care what the reasons are. Jennifer has been missing over a year, and Yancy over six months. Time is running out for them, if it hasn’t already, and traditional law enforcement moves far too slowly to save them. They’re more than an evidence file number to me . . . Who else will advocate for them?”
A long moment passed, and finally Dr. Doyle glanced at her watch and took out her phone. “Do you mind if I record the rest of this conversation?”
Emm shook her head. “I’m not sure I can be of much help. Everything I know is in the file—”
“There are always more details. For example, were there any embittered ex-boyfriends with drug connections?”
“Jennifer was dating someone her mother and I didn’t like, a rocker, but the Baltimore police didn’t find any connection between him and Los Lobos.”
“And you spoke yourself to their friends?”
“Yes, more than once. Yancy hadn’t dated in a while, but Jennifer was into Internet dating because she liked older men, said guys her age were too immature.”
“And did you meet any of her other dates?”
“A couple. They seemed harmless enough. The police said neither of them had a record.”
“In this type of crime, that’s not always a tip-off. It’s their very respectability that makes them valuable to the cartel. There is a link somewhere between Baltimore and Texas. Too many of the victims were from the same area, and I suspect that someone, likely someone of influence who travels the two areas with equal ease, is assisting the cartel with advance intelligence of police and agency movements, which is why we can’t find a trace of their conduit.”
Emm tried to picture anyone she knew contributing to this heinous crime, but she failed. Not a single person came to mind. “So it would have to be someone privy to law enforcement information and tactics. Someone who traveled frequently between Baltimore and Texas. Someone respected and possibly influential in the community . . .”
Dr. Doyle nodded. “Exactly.”
Emm stared into space. She could only think of one person who fit that profile, and no way could he be involved. He’d even dated Yancy for a while. . . .