Desperado. Diana Palmer
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even dabbled in child pornography, with a branch office in Amsterdam. They literally sold children to a shady global corporation through the agency. Rumor had it that Raoul Gruber was the chief executive officer of the corporation—but it had been impossible to link him to it.
“Children being bought and sold like animals? You have got to be kidding!” Maggie exclaimed. “This is the twenty-first century!”
“I know,” Kit said sadly. “But some horrible things happen in the world. While the news media harps on the latest political sex scandal, little children no older than six and seven are being peddled like raw meat. They’re forced to work down mine shafts, in agricultural fields, on cattle ranches, doing dangerous work sometimes twelve and fourteen hours a day. There are no child labor laws in these rural places, and the children are considered expendable.”
Maggie felt homicidal. “It’s barbaric,” she said with husky fury.
“I agree. That’s why I’m so glad Dane took the case. He’s coordinating with a whole shipload of federal agencies, including the INS, the NEA, Customs, the State Department and Interpol. The case has ties everywhere in the country, with a corporate network of field offices in several states.” She hesitated. “One of them is in Miami,” she added. “And Dane said that Cord’s accident wasn’t an accident at all. The man who’s involved with the slave trafficking is an old enemy of Cord’s who’s newly linked to this labor operation. Cord knows things about him that he doesn’t want uncovered.”
Maggie’s heart jumped. “Cord mentioned that I should watch my back,” she said slowly. “He said an old enemy might even target me, but I didn’t think much about it at the time.”
“You’d better,” Kit said. “You might tell Cord what we’re investigating,” she added. “Dane and his operatives will help keep an eye on you, just as they’re watching me. If we can get enough evidence on this rat, we can put him away forever. But it’s going to take time and patience. And a lot of caution.”
“I won’t see Cord to tell him anything,” she replied in a subdued tone. “We aren’t speaking right now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you with the case?” Maggie asked. “My life is so dull and boring that even surveillance would be exciting right now.”
The other woman laughed. “You wouldn’t think so, if you’d ever had to do it. But I’ll keep you in mind.” She checked her watch. “Oops. Got to run or I’ll be late for work. If I don’t see you before you get off, have a nice weekend. Logan’s very pleased with you. I guess you know that, though.”
Maggie smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. I like my job a lot. I’m sorry I won’t be permanent.”
“That makes three of us,” Kit said, and meant it.
* * *
WHEN MAGGIE GOT to her hotel, there was a message waiting for her to phone Cord. She hesitated about doing it. She wasn’t up to any more angry encounters with him. But she was still worried about him, now more than ever, since he’d told her about his old enemy deliberately targeting him. He could be in great danger. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him. She was nervous about returning his phone call but she couldn’t really resist it. He must have gotten over his anger at her.
She phoned the ranch. A man answered and a couple of minutes later, Cord came on the line.
“You left me a message to call you,” she said formally.
He hesitated uncharacteristically. “Come out here for supper tonight,” he replied.
The eyes he couldn’t see, twinkled. She was surprised at his words. “Is that an invitation, or a royal command?”
He chuckled. “It’s an invitation. We’re having cherry pie for dessert,” he added.
She sighed. “Hit me in my weak spot, why don’t you?”
“I just did. Can’t resist it, can you?”
She was tired and hungry but she did want to see him, so badly. “Okay. I’ll get a cab out...”
“The hell you will. I’ll drive in and get you. Fifteen minutes.”
He hung up before she could argue any further.
* * *
SHE GOT OUT of her business suit and put on jeans and a neat short-sleeved red-and-white-striped shirt with a gray vest. It wasn’t couture, but it looked good on her, outlining her slender body in a nice way.
She left her hair long, for Cord, and picked up a light sweater in case it got cool later in the evening. There was a cold front on the way and Texas could be cool in the evenings, even in spring.
While she waited for Cord, she thought about what Kit had told her, about Gruber and his interests, especially the remark about child pornography. She hated the very thought of children being exploited sexually. She hated people who would use innocence in such a way, only for profit. It made her furious out of all proportion.
Cord knocked on her door exactly fifteen minutes later. She went out to meet him and locked the door behind her.
He was in beige slacks and a sports shirt with a beige-and-brown patterned sports coat. He looked trendy and very handsome.
“I’m glad you didn’t dress up,” he said as they entered the elevator. He pushed the ground floor button and turned to study her in the deserted elevator. “We’re just having chili and Mexican corn bread.”
“And cherry pie.” She wanted to make sure he didn’t forget.
He held her eyes and smiled slowly. “Amy always made one for your birthday, from scratch,” he recalled. “It was one of the few times you really smiled. Amy said she didn’t think you’d ever had a real birthday party in your whole young life.”
“I hadn’t.” She clutched her purse and sweater close to her chest, and her eyes reflected the old sadness. “When my father died, all the laughter went out of my life. Then Mama let pneumonia take her out only two years later.”
He scowled. This was news. “When you were eight,” he guessed.
She lifted her face. “Why...no. When I was six.”
“Then where did you go until Amy fostered you? Did you have grandparents?”
She shivered. “A stepfather.” Her voice was low and soft and full of pain.
He started to ask another question when the elevator stopped. She got off ahead of him and headed toward the front, where the car was parked. He knew he wasn’t being tailed, so he wasn’t being cautious.
He followed along behind her. A stepfather. She’d apparently lived with him for two years before she’d come to Amy Barton’s house. He was full of questions, but she’d closed up like a flower. It didn’t take a mind reader to know that she wasn’t going to answer any more questions right now. Her sharp glance told him so.
“How’s the job hunt going?” he asked as they reached the expensive black sports car he drove.
“I’m working already,” she said. “Logan Deverell hired me to work for his investment firm, just temporarily. His wife, Kit, works for the Lassiter Detective Agency, in the same building. They say you know Dane.”
“I do,” he replied abruptly. He opened her door and helped her inside, before he went around and climbed in under the wheel.
But he didn’t start the car immediately. He put an arm across the back of her seat and looked at her. “Lassiter deals in dangerous cases,” he pointed out. “I don’t like the idea of your working so close to him.”
“You don’t imagine that I care what you like?” she replied with a pleasant smile.
His jaw tautened as he stared at