CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Why not let the police and FBI handle it?” Sara said. “Your client only hired you to find his daughters, not to break up an organized crime ring.” We were in my kitchen, Sara sipping coffee at my counter while I was making huevos rancheros with fried eggs served on corn tortillas and smothered in salsa for our breakfast. Since we hadn’t seen each other since celebrating Peking Duck Day, she had come over the previous evening and had spent the night. Trixie sat at my feet, looking up at the counter, ever alert for spillage.
“Shouldn’t you focus on finding Sienna Reid?”
“Maybe working on the human trafficking will help me find her,” I said. “It’s all tangled up together.”
“You think those people are holding her and making her perform in videos?” Sara said.
“I don’t
