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“Oh, I suppose so, but I feel so helpless.”

“Tell you what, I’ll send someone over to Sarasota to bring back your car. Do you have the keys?”

Marina opened her purse and handed them to Holly.

“I’ll send two officers over there tomorrow, and one can drive your car back.”

“Thank you.”

“But you can’t leave here, Marina. I hope you understand that.”

Marina nodded. “I understand.”

Grant came in from the garage, his arms filled with groceries. “There’s more in the car,” he said. “Give me a hand?”

Holly went out to the garage and got the remaining bags from Grant’s trunk. The top was down on the Mercedes convertible, and as she walked back into the house, something in the car caught her attention. It was a matchbook, lying on the console between the front seats, but she could read the name on it. TRICKY’S, it said. BAR AND GRILL.

They finished dinner and watched TV for a while, then Marina excused herself and went to bed.

“She’s getting pretty antsy,” Grant said.

“I know. She wants to go back to Lauderdale to bury her mother and aunt.”

“You’re not going to let her, are you?”

“Of course not.” They were both quiet for a moment. “Grant, what else do you know about the Pellegrinos?”

“Nothing I can tell you,” he replied.

“Oh, come on, there must be something else that you can tell me without compromising your investigation.”

“They’re very well connected,” Grant said.

“With whom?”

“You name it—if it’s a criminal organization, they’re plugged into it.”

“What sort of activities?”

“Whatever turns a million bucks—prostitution, gambling.”

“Prostitution? I thought that was a freelancer’s market these days.”

“There are some very fancy whorehouses in Miami,” Grant said. “You wouldn’t believe how fancy, and how beautiful the girls are. Or boys.”

“And the Pellegrinos are into that?”

“The Pellegrinos own that.”

“Jesus. And what sort of gambling? Bookie operations?”

“They’ve gone way beyond a bookie operation,” Grant said. “They’re on the Internet.”

“The Internet?”

“Come on, I’ll show you.” He led the way into the study and switched on his computer. He hit the Internet connection, then typed in an address. A title page came up, and there were buttons for football, baseball, golf, basketball, soccer, European soccer, South American soccer, dog racing, and horse racing. Grant clicked on one and got a display of odds on various games.

“Wow,” Holly said. “But that’s got to be illegal.”

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