Deliver Us from Evil by Robin Caroll

have?”
    â€œTwelve rounds. Why?”
    â€œJust getting a count in case we need it.”
    â€œOh.” She held out the package of jerky. “Here. You need to eat, keep your strength up and all that.” She flashed him a tentative smile.
    He hesitated, staring into her eyes with his dark, piercing ones. Then he took the offered food. “Thanks.” With big hands he ripped the package open and bit off a hunk.
    Brannon sat on an opposite rock and concentrated on eating. Why did the man’s forearms seem to interest her so much? Sure they were corded with muscles, but what was the big deal?
    They reminded her of Wade.
    Heat crept up the back of her neck, and she shivered. She needed to ignore the foolish impulses of her betraying body and concentrate on the task at hand. She swallowed. “It’s really cold out. Are you sure you don’t want to come inside and warm up next to the fire?”
    His face lost expression. “No. I prefer to be out here.”
    She sighed. So much for trying to help him. “So what’s the story about the witness?”
    Roark blinked twice, then his gaze settled on her face. The heat reached her ears, causing her to look down at the jerky in her hands.
    â€œThe witness can give details on a large child-trafficking ring. We have the documented proof, but we need this guy to tell us who is involved, how to connect the proof to the guilty parties.”
    Snow drifted, swirling around the air, some settling on Roark’s hair, making it appear to glisten. She tilted her head as she tried to concentrate on the details. “Where’s this ring acting out of?”
    â€œKnoxville.”
    â€œHere in Tennessee?” Her hands curled around the jerky, squeezing it into a tight wad. “How can that be?”
    â€œHappens all the time actually. The more remote the location, the better for these scumbags.” Roark bit off another bite and shook his head as he chewed. “Occurs right under our noses,” he said around the jerky, then swallowed. “But this time . . . this time we have a chance to catch the ringleaders and put them behind bars for a long, long time. Cut-off-a-snake’s-head-and-the-body-will-die type of thing.”
    â€œHow does the ring work?”
    â€œWe don’t know all the details, can’t until our witness comes out of a coma, which we’re told will be after he has the transplant surgery.” Roark wadded the package from the jerky into a ball, then slipped it into his pocket. “From what we can garner, girls between the ages of ten and fourteen are coaxed into coming into the States from Thailand under the pretense of adoption, English education, and such. Or their parents are selling them off.” His eyes slipped a shade darker than ebony. “Once they get here, they realize they’ve been had, but it’s too late.”
    â€œWhat happens to them?” She forced to keep her voice from wavering, the jerky she’d just eaten turning to cement.
    â€œThey’re sold into prostitution rings.”
    Brannon gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Her mind whipped as unrelenting as the wind. Girls, children really, sold into prostitution? A hollow pit opened in her heart, growing as she considered the plight of these children. Tears stung her eyes. “H-how many of them?”
    â€œFrom the records we’ve procured, hundreds into thousands.”
    Nausea erupted from her stomach, blazing the length of her throat. She pinched her eyes closed, pushing down the pain searing her soul. Those poor children.
    A cold hand covered hers. She opened her eyes and stared into Roark’s face. He knelt in front of her, his hands over hers, his gaze soft and compassionate. “We’ll be able to put everyone involved behind bars with this witness. That’s why it’s so vital we get the heart to the hospital in time.”
    Brannon nodded, reining in her despair