"I text a phone number, then fly to Jamaica. They text back with a departure time from a private airfield in Nain. It's always the same pilot, always the same plane. The number is in my phone." I picked up his phone from the table, walking behind him to put his thumb on it to unlock it. I pulled up the text message application. "It's under Vacation Rentals," he said.

"That's what you call flying off to have sex with twelve-year-olds," Bobby snarled.

"Yes! I'm sorry!"

I pulled up the contact, there were multiple messages saved. "Have you brought guests?"

"I have to vouch for and pay for them, but...