“Amber will testify,” I said. “She has nothing to lose. And I’ll bet the Rainwater girl will also—and if she’s not willing, she can always be subpoenaed. These are two witnesses right there who can name names and give dates and locations. That would make a heyday for a sharp district attorney and grand jury.”

I stopped a second and then went on. “Patricia, there are girls out there being treated in a way no human being should have to endure. Yeah, I know—some of them are there willingly—but even if they are, it’s still wrong. And there are others—the Tonyas and the Chiggers—who are nothing more than slaves. And how many of those girls—when their useful days are over, or if they become a liability—how many of them, like Tonya, just disappear? Who makes it right for those girls? If you and I won’t do it, Patricia, then please tell me who will.”

Patricia held my eyes with hers. “I’ll call,” she said at last. “I want to meet Amber first, but yes, I’ll call.”

“I’ll take you to her this afternoon. But you have to assure me that she, and the identity of her family, will be protected—even from your own department. People connected with this have died already. And don’t forget, I was almost one of them.”

“Kennesaw, sometimes you just chap my rear end! Do you think I just started this job? Of course her identity will be protected! My God, what’s the matter with you!?”

I lowered my head and feigned an appearance of contrition. Then looking up again, I reached across the table and took Patricia’s hands in both of mine.

“And I mean that for you, too, Patricia. You need to stay low until a clean sweep is made of this outfit. I don’t want you becoming a target also.”

“You just look out for yourself, Tanner, and I’ll do the same for me. But if you ever feel you’re in need of police protection—well, you can put yourself in my hands,” she said in a teasing voice.

“For a second there, Patricia, I thought you might be serious.”

“Who says I’m not?” she replied with a gentle smile.

“Ah,” was the only reply that came to mind. Then, “What say we order breakfast?”

The sun was lifting over the horizon as we stepped outside.

“I’ll call you later with the time to see Amber. Let’s meet at the bus station and go from there,” I said as we came to Patricia’s car.

“You’ve got to do something about that car, Kennesaw,” she said, looking at the shot-out rear window. “Every cop who sees you is going to pull you over. It looks exactly like what it is—a car that’s been involved in a shoot-out.”