“More beer?” the waitress asked Sandy, who shook her head no. Looking at Rebecca, she asked, “How about you?” The word detective hung in the air.

“No—I’m good.”

As Rebecca watched her companion pile food on her plate, she remarked, “I’m looking for somebody selling young stuff.”

“Everybody sells young stuff. That’s what sells. Or haven’t you noticed?”

“I’m talking about the real thing, not the eighteen year olds pretending to be thirteen.”

“Don’t know anything about it.” Sandy rolled another pancake and sipped her beer, keeping her eyes on her plate.

“This is probably a big, well-run operation, not some pimp selling chickens out of an apartment in the slums,” Rebecca continued unperturbed. “Maybe a well-organized operation.”

Sandy raised her gaze to Rebecca’s. Their blue eyes met, but try as she might, she knew that she couldn’t match the hard stillness of the cop’s cold stare. Sandy blinked, then said softly, “Are you fucking nuts? I don’t know anything about that, and I don’t want to know anything about it. If this is organized , then asking about it gets you dead. Look at what happened to your cop friends last spring.”

Rebecca’s expression became granite. “What did you hear?”

“Just that they were poking around where they shouldn’t have been poking—in somebody important’s business. And that somebody shut them up.”

“You get this important person’s name?”

Sandy shook her head. “Uh uh.”

“Who did you hear this from?”

“Can’t recall.”

“Try.”

“Are you looking to get offed, too?” Sandy hissed, leaning forward across the small tabletop. “What is it with you?”

For some reason, Rebecca answered. “One of them was my partner.”

“Well, now he’s dead. End of story.”

“No,” Rebecca said quietly as she pulled her wallet from her back pocket. “Not yet.” She laid four twenties on the table. “Ask around. Be careful, though.”

“Yeah, right. Thanks.” Her tone was not grateful. “Listen,” she said quickly as Rebecca slid across the seat and stood up.

“What?”

“A friend of mine is in a jam. An undercover guy busted her tonight—not before she finished the hand job I might add, although of course he denies that—and I know she doesn’t have the bail. She’s been picked up before. She could go away for this.”

“What’s her name?” Rebecca asked, glancing at her watch. “If the paperwork’s not processed yet, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Rita. Rita Balducci.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait,” Sandy grumbled, watching the cop walk quickly through the narrow aisle between the rickety tables and out into the night. Some part of her felt better knowing Frye was back on the streets.

“Oh God, I need a shower. I need two showers.” Jason McBride pushed away from the computer terminal and rubbed his face with both hands. “I always heard it, but I never really knew how many sickos there were out there.”

Sloan swiveled in her chair and faced him from the console where she had been working. The clock on the far wall said 4:42 a.m. The last time she could remember seeing the time it had been eight-thirty the previous evening. Jason’s hair was uncharacteristically disheveled, and his shirt actually appeared to have been untucked. Intentionally. That was highly unusual for her fastidious friend. It was the hollow-eyed expression on his face that caught her attention, though. It wasn’t fatigue—they’d worked forty hours or more without stopping when they’d had major system failures to repair or massive viral infestations to cleanse. This was something else. “I guess you’ve been successful?”

He winced. “If you can call almost having sex with a dozen perverts successful, then yes—wildly so.”

“Who are you tonight?”

“QtGrl13. She was a big hit.”

“Where have you been trolling?”

“The Hot4U message boards. As soon as I showed up and announced that I was a new girl in town, I had three offers to move off to a private room to get acquainted. I was in an out of the chat rooms all night after that.”

“Anything look promising?”

He shrugged, then sighed. “Too soon to tell. The patter is pretty sophisticated for the most part—except for the high school boys who are the same the world over whether it’s cyber space or the junior prom. They just want to get laid and they’re not too subtle about it. But I have a feeling that the real pedophiles are being very careful not to expose themselves. They’re probably pretending to be kids until they feel safe enough in a relationship to cop to their real age. There were one or two who sounded like they might be angling for more than a quickie, but I’ll have to go back on again a few more times to see. If I move too fast it will spook them.”

“All right. As soon as you have a possible, let me know and we’ll start a back door trace. And we need to narrow down geographic locations. There are literally thousands of people using these boards, and we have to search for a local hit.”

“Got it.”

“Try to bring the conversations around to pics, especially current ones or anything with videos.”

“I’m doing that when I go on as BigMac10—that’s where I’ve just been. Swimming with the scum who are looking to trade files. I’m posing as a guy who’s interested in 12 or 13-year-old girls. But I haven’t been real specific yet. These guys aren’t stupid, and the people we’re looking for are going to be very savvy. I can’t just ask to see some guy’s etchings.” He sighed and stood. “I’m going home. Sarah got in from that alternative medicine conference in Sante Fe tonight. Last night—whatever. Somehow, being with her always makes me feel normal.”

“Yeah, she has that effect on me, to.”

“That’s a stretch,” he said good-naturedly.

Sloan just laughed. “Say hi for me—and tell her she owes me a workout.”

“Will do. You should quit for the night, too. Michael home?”

“Yes.”

“Then go.”

She glanced at the screen, considering the credit card clearing houses she still needed to trace, then thought of the woman upstairs asleep. The case was already getting ugly, and it was likely to go on for a long time, and get even uglier. She stood and stretched. “Excellent advice. I’m gone.”

She locked the office doors as Jason descended in the silent elevator, then walked the length of the dimly lit hall to the rear stairwell and climbed the one flight to her fourth floor loft apartment. As quietly as possible, she fitted her key into the lock and slid the large double doors apart, closing and bolting them behind her. Making her way through the darkened space by memory, she shed her clothes along the way and crossed to the bathroom on the far side of the partitioned sleeping area. She left the light off so as not to awaken Michael, but as she reached into the shower to turn the water on, she heard a soft sound behind her. Turning, she was startled as a warm body pressed into her arms.

Nuzzling Sloan’s neck, Michael murmured sleepily, “Is it morning?”

“Not yet.” She kissed her gently, then added, “Go back to bed. I’ll be in as soon as I shower.”

“Mmm. Want company?”

“Now that is by far the best offer I’ve had all night.”

“Oh?” Michael asked, sounding much more awake. “And have you had many offers this evening?”

“None worth mentioning,” Sloan said reassuringly. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that was a circumstance that was about to change, given their current undertaking. Pushing aside thoughts of predators and innocent victims, she drew her lover into the shower and let the warm water and Michael’s embrace wash the unwelcome images from her mind.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WHEN THE ALARM went off, Michael made a quick grab for it in an attempt to silence the insistent buzzing before it awakened Sloan.

“What time is it?” came a husky whisper from the darkness.

“6:15.”

“Do you have a meeting this morning?” Sloan asked, clearing her throat and trying to dispel the cobwebs from her brain.

“Yes. Development and Marketing are meeting to discuss agendas.”

Sloan rolled over as Michael sat up in bed, appreciating the way the sheets cascaded down her lover’s body, leaving her breasts bare. Suddenly, she forgot the fact that she’d only had an hour and a half of sleep. They hadn’t been able to have dinner together the evening before, because by the time Michael had gotten back from a late business meeting, Sloan and Jason had been deep into another night on the job. Internet traffic was high between four and two a.m. when kids were home from school. That’s when adults looking for a contact would be trolling. With effort, she pushed aside those thoughts. Running a hand down Michael’s bare arm, she said, “I missed you last night.”

“Me, too.” Michael sighed. “I’d better go. I want to be there to referee. You know those two groups can never agree as to whose timetable should take priority. And of course both division directors are total hotheads, and usually one or the other or both of them threatens to quit after every meeting. I figured I’d save myself some time by being there to put out any fires.”

“They’ll play nice if you’re there. And you could always threaten to can them before they have a chance to quit.”

“Maybe.” Michael laughed and leaned down to kiss her. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm. I will,” Sloan murmured languorously, her arms encircling Michael’s waist. Pulling the other woman down into her arms, she added, “In just a few minutes.”

Surprised, Michael emitted a short peel of laughter that turned to a muffled moan as her body met Sloan’s, and her skin began to hum with the familiar pulse of desire. Her body called the next shot, and before she knew it, she was straddling Sloan’s thigh and devouring her lover’s mouth, suddenly ravenous for the taste of her. While she was lost in the kiss, Sloan lifted her hips, rolling Michael over, and then settled possessively upon her. The hum became a roar.