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“You definitely look like a Parker.” She winked.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, any other ideas? I cannot compromise the club’s network under any circumstances.”
“Why do you need access to that particular site, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I hesitated. “That site is run by human traffickers.”
Her face dropped. “No, it’s not. They just buy and sell illegal things. I’ve, uh, been on it before.”
Is that what she really thinks? “You’re right, they do. People. Mostly underage kids and young women.”
She shifted uncomfortably and said, “Okay, well, what are you going to do about it?”
“They’re not going to make it past New Orleans. In fact, I think they may already be here. We need to be a step ahead of them.”
She cocked her head to the side and glanced around the restaurant. “Really? You’re, what, just gonna kill them?”
“As long as we have proof, most likely. Nighthawks don’t tolerate that shit.”
“Leave it to the cops,” she replied quickly.
The server brought our food and set it down in front of us. Devon and I wrinkled our noses at the smell.
“Should have just told her to bring it in to-go boxes,” I said.
“Too obvious. We have to look like we’re eating. Pick up a French fry and just hold it in your hand.”
I obeyed. It was warm and greasy. She unwrapped her napkin, pulled out the fork, and held it in her hand.
“We did,” I replied. “Sort of. To the supernatural cops. We got a tip on a kidnapping a couple nights ago. They sailed off on a speedboat and there was nothing we could do, so we called the authorities. We don’t normally do that, though.”
“The BSI? Right?”
I nodded. “Yes. There was already an AMBER alert out for the girls so it wasn’t something we could have handled internally anyway.”
“Why didn’t you just call the FBI?” she asked, tapping the bottom of the fork against the catfish.
“Two reasons. One, we have a close professional relationship with the BSI. They visit regularly to check up on us. Two, the anonymous tip we received stated the kidnappers were vampires. The BSI will have to handle it if that’s the case. Though, what I can’t figure out is how the tipster knew they were vamps. Made me wonder if they knew them.”
“You can’t trace the text?” she asked curiously.
I shook my head. “No, it’s set up to be completely anonymous.”
“You should change that,” she replied. “I would.”
“Trust me, after this, I’m strongly considering it, especially since this was damn near a life-or-death situation.”
“Well, unfortunately, unless you want to just keep removing spyware, there’s no other way to access that site without another elaborate setup.”
“How many seconds do you think I have to access the site before the malware worms in?” I asked. I had to keep my eyes on hers to avoid wanting to stare at her beautiful lips.
“The site detects a visitor immediately, so it’ll go to work with the bug right off the bat.” She sat back in the booth and added, “I mean, I assume so.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
I bet you are.
