When Travis forced the RV from the road, he'd crossed a legal line and there was no going back. Then again, in all his years as a deputy, Travis had never known a more worthwhile case.
"Booth can't hurt you anymore," said Travis. "I can protect you—but you have to tell me everything you know."
"You can," he said. "You have to."
Lisa swallowed. "OK."
"How many guys are in Los Diablos?"
"Fifteen members live in the lodge. They make meth in the cabins," said Lisa, her voice small.
"How many guns?"
"I don't know. Lots. Fifty, maybe more."
Cassidy whistled. "That's a lot of firepower.
"Then there are the others," said Lisa.
"There are ten women—me and Brittney included. We all live in the RVs and only come out when someone from Los Diablos wants to see us." Lisa continued, "Sometimes, Rex or Luke will have men come to pay for sex."
Forced prostitution? His worst nightmare had just become his reality. For years, Travis always sought the advice of his late boss, Carl Haak. If he were here now, what would the old sheriff say? Travis knew. Carl would call the feds and turn the case over.
Lisa scraped her teeth over her lip. "You really want to help? You have to get all of the girls. Everyone is just like me or Brittney. We met one of the guys and thought he loved us. Now we know better. All we want to do is go home."
Travis needed to consider every angle. Lisa could very well be leading him into a deadly trap, and he tamped down whatever sympathy he might have felt. Before he could question her further, the cell phone began to ring. Glancing at the screen, he read the caller ID. "It's Booth."
Lisa stepped back. "You might as well shoot me now, because he's gonna kill me for getting caught."
Holding out the phone, Travis said, "Answer the call. Tell Booth that you ran off the road and need help."
"No way," said Lisa. "He'll know I'm lying."
The phone continued to ring. How long could it go unanswered before Booth became suspicious? "Just do it," said Travis. His tone was sharper than he intended. "I have a plan, but I need you to tell Booth that you need men to come and help."
"What? More men? That's the dumbest idea I ever heard."
Holding out her hand, Cassidy said, "Give me the keys to the handcuffs."
"What? No. Out of the question."
"For this to work," said Cassidy, "we all have to trust one another."
All along, Travis told himself that he had gotten involved with the case because of Cassidy. They'd been friends. He had to honor that history. Yet, he knew that wasn't the whole truth. It was because of his late sister—the one he rarely thought about, even though he carried her picture. The one who'd liked to party a little too much and had started dating a guy just like Booth. The one he'd been too young to save.
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