“And just how will we manage that?”
“I procured us a jeep. It doesn’t look like much, but it will get us where we’re going.”
“And where are we going?”
“In the jeep,” he ordered.
If the coffee had been hot she would have thrown it in his face. No she wouldn’t—even cold, bad coffee was coffee, and she needed it quite badly. She drained it, then held it in her hand. “Should I bring this with us?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
She flushed. “I don’t know. DNA or something?”
“I think we left plenty of DNA on the sheets, don’t you? Leave the cup.”
It was already hot and humid when they stepped outside the stuffy motel. Parker had lived most of her life in New Orleans, but this thick, sweltering heat felt even more oppressive.
The jeep had seen better days. It was mud-spattered, dented, and beaten up, the seats were held together by duct tape, and the windshield had a long crack in it. She didn’t say a word, simply climbed in the front and fastened her seat belt. If he thought it would g
et them where they needed to be going, then she believed him. Asking questions led only to sharp answers, and she was beginning to think his nasty tongue was a more painful form of torture than what he’d done to her arm.
Which had stopped hurting. She glanced down at it and saw that the bruises were already yellowing. She was wearing a tank top and khaki shorts in deference to the hot weather, and she’d managed to braid her hair to keep it from flying into her face. He surveyed her critically.
“I don’t know if that’s enough to keep your hair under control.” He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the engine on. It ran smoothly, which perversely disappointed her. She should have known he’d find a reliable vehicle, no matter what it looked like. “We’re heading into the mountains,” he said.
Sweat was already sliding down her spine, and she leaned back against the seat in relief. “At least it’ll be cooler.”
“Marginally,” he said, putting the jeep in gear and heading down the road. “But the bugs could be worse.”
“Great,” she grumbled. “I don’t suppose you feel like telling me where we’re going.”
“Someone with Soledad’s description arrived in town twelve hours before we did and was met by members of the Guiding Light. Word has it they took her back to the mountain town that’s their current stronghold.”
She looked at him in astonishment. “The Guiding Light? The soap opera?”
He made a disgusted sound. “Don’t you ever read the newspapers? La Luz is the rebel army around here. They like to think of themselves as freedom fighters but they’re mainly into kidnapping, drugs, and extortion. And now it appears they’ve added human trafficking to their list of sins.”
“And they have Soledad?” she demanded.
“And the smartphone.”
“But what would they want with Soledad? There’s no one who’d pay a ransom for her. Well, I would, but they don’t know that . . .”
“Just how big an idiot are you? It’s not what they want with Soledad, it’s what she wants with them. She’s no victim; she’s involved in this whole stinking business.”
“And you have proof of that?” she demanded coolly.
“No. Just instinct.”
“Well, my instincts tell me she’s just what she said she is. An innocent victim like all the others.”
“And your brother didn’t realize what he was doing when he got involved in selling women and children into the sex trades?”
She shuddered. “Of course not.”
“Then explain something to me. Who else knows you have his smartphone, and how did they find out?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I won’t believe my brother really understood what he was doing. And I think whoever came after the smartphone took Soledad as well.”