Wordlessly, Sloan shrugged and headed straight for the coffeepot.

She poured a cup, took a long sip, and lounging against the counter, regarded Rebecca inquiringly. “No problem. Something come up?”

“Clark arrived for a meeting with Henry, and I decided I needed to be unavailable.”

“What’s that bastard doing back in the picture?”

“I don’t know.” Rebecca looked past Sloan to the door and nodded to the handsome blond man who stood on the threshold. His expensive, meticulously tailored shirt and pants contrasted distinctly to Sloan’s casual attire, but the shadows beneath his deep blue eyes mirrored hers.

“Hi, Jase. How’s it going?”

Jason McBride, Sloan’s associate at Sloan Security, smiled tiredly.

• 38 •

Justice Served

“It feels like moving a mountain with a tablespoon, there’s so much data to sift through.”

“You should take a break before Sarah comes and drags you out of here,” Sloan suggested, referring to her best friend and Jason’s live-in lover. “Go home, get some sleep.”

“Yeah, like you, I suppose,” Jason remarked with friendly sarcasm.

“I just woke up.”

Clearly surprised, Jason sank into one of the chairs at the conference table. “So miracles really do happen.”

Laughing, Sloan joined him.

Jason looked to Rebecca. “What’s happening on your end?”

“A few noteworthy bits, but let’s wait for Watts. He’ll be here any minute.”

Right on cue, a subdued pinging emanated from a speaker in the far corner of the room. All three heads turned toward the bank of security monitors lined up along the wall. The Þ rst screen showed an image projected from the video camera above the street-level door.

Watts stood on the top step, frowning up at the camera. Before Sloan could buzz him in, he turned his back to the building, as if looking back down the street.

“Hey,” Jason said as another Þ gure materialized. “That’s Mitchell!”

“I’d better go give them a hand,” Sloan said, punching in a number sequence on a keypad to release the security locks on the street-level door.

“Stay put,” Rebecca interjected. “I’ll go.”

As soon as they were alone, Jason queried Sloan. “Why the meeting?”

“It looks like the team is back in business,” Sloan said.

“Really? Good, because we could use some help tracking down the rest of the video-porn subscribers. And anything else we Þ nd along the way.”

Sloan said nothing.

“What?”

“You might have to handle that alone.”

Jason frowned. “Why?”

“I’m going to be tied up with another job.”

• 39 •

RADCLY fFE

“You’re kidding.” Jason stared, clearly confused. “What could be more important than delivering the coup de grâce to this smut ring?”

“You know what, Jason,” Sloan replied softly.

“We’ve got a line into their organization now, Sloan,” Jason pointed out. “We’ll nail down the porn distributors, and one of them is going to roll. Then we’ll be able to pinpoint Michael’s assailant or at least Þ nd out who gave the order.”

“Starting tomorrow,” Sloan said with evident satisfaction,

“I’m going to have access to everything I need to Þ gure out who is responsible.” At his look of puzzlement, she went on, “I agreed to help develop an electronic surveillance unit for the police department. I’m now an ofÞ cial civilian consultant.”

“You’re kidding.” The sound of voices from just outside the door prevented him from elaborating further on his disbelief. He turned, and a smile lit his handsome features. “Dell? Hey. How are you?”

“Great.” Mitchell, seated in a wheelchair with Sandy at the helm, grinned back. “The doc said I can’t weight-bear until tomorrow. But then I’ll be mobile.”

“Crutches,” Sandy muttered. “Freakin’ crutches, Dell.”

“Excellent,” Jason said. “Hi, Sandy.”

“Hi,” Sandy replied as she helped Mitchell move from the wheelchair to a seat at the table.

Rebecca sat down on Mitchell’s right, with Watts on her opposite side. Once Sandy joined them, Rebecca began. “Okay. Everyone’s here, so let’s get up to speed. As of this morning, we are now ofÞ cially the High ProÞ le Crimes Unit.” She looked around the table. “Jason, you and Sloan will have ofÞ cial status as civilian consultants. Sloan’s going to be doing some work directly from police headquarters, but you’ll still be based here. In fact,” she regarded Sloan now, “I’d like to base the entire unit here if at all possible. I don’t trust the security at headquarters.”

“That’s Þ ne with me,” Sloan said. “Jason and Mitchell can set up a secure databank to handle the necessary documentation. We’ll store everything using the Justice Department encryption protocol, so we should have no problem with the records being admissible in court.”

“Handy,” Watts observed. “You just happening to have that program.”

• 40 •

Justice Served

“I learned everything I know from Uncle Sam.” Sloan grinned.

“Just your tax dollars at work.”

“Uh-huh, right.”

“Jason,” Rebecca’s voice rose above the friendly bantering.

“Where are you with the data analysis?”

“In addition to the guys running the video relay stations that we’ve already identiÞ ed, we could potentially track down about three hundred subscribers just in the greater metropolitan area alone. How hard do you want to go after them?”

“How long would it take?”

Jason waggled his hand. “We have to backtrack through credit card accounts, Internet aliases, multiple e-mail addresses, servers—

the whole works. With just Dell and me working it, probably a few weeks.”

“In all likelihood,” Sloan interjected, “these are the end users. The guys who don’t know anything about the structure of the organization and who just want to get off to porn. For our purposes, the return might not be worth the effort.”

Rebecca’s gaze was distant as she considered options. “These guys are perverts, and some of them are probably active pedophiles.

They need to be investigated.”

“No question,” Sloan agreed. “But do we need to be investigating them?”

“What’s the chance that we’ll pull a name out of those computers that will lead us to our mole?”

“Not an impossibility,” Jason mused. “Most of the porn makers and distributors got into the business because they like the product.

Maybe that’s what hooked our insider too, but we can’t count on it.”

“For the time being,” Rebecca said, “you and Mitchell keep at it.

At least until Mitchell is ready for street duty.”

At that, Mitchell sat up straighter, her body nearly quivering with anticipation. “Am I going back undercover?”

From the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw Sandy stiffen. “We’ve disrupted part of the porn ring, but I think it’s pretty clear that they’re using prostitutes as models. Some local street girls, but others whom we haven’t been able to identify. They’re not in our system—so who are they? I want to know who they are and how they’re being recruited.

So far, the sex clubs are our best leads.” She glanced from Mitchell

• 41 •

RADCLY fFE

to Jason. “And Jasmine and Mitch have an in there, so I want them to work it.”

Jason’s mouth curved into a smile that was pure Jasmine. When he spoke, his voice took on a honeyed texture, although nothing else in his posture changed. “What fun.”

“Jasmine needs to talk to the drag kings and tell them Mitch was in a motorcycle accident. It will explain his leg and his absence.”

“Not a problem. The boys have a show tonight, and Jasmine can drop around.”

During the conversation, Watts shifted in his chair, the ponderous creaking underscoring his uneasy expression. “Mitch rushing out of Ziggie’s right before that bust the other night might raise some suspicions.”

“No one knows I was at the factory during the arrests,” Mitchell pointed out hurriedly. “I can always say I got a call from my girlfriend busting my balls”—she glanced apologetically at Sandy—“because I was out late clubbing, and I crashed the bike speeding to get home.”

Watts nodded. “Yeah, that might play.” He regarded Mitchell steadily. “And you did manage to get in places none of us could.”

“Well, Mitch did,” Mitchell replied with just a hint of self-satisfaction.

“Oh yeah—the guy with the plastic pole,” Watts grumbled. “He’s a wonder, all right.”

“Okay,” Rebecca said, nodding to Mitchell. “As soon as you’re cleared medically and by…the department, I want you to reconnect with the kings and start working the clubs at night. Concentrate on Ziggie’s.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Sloan, you’ve got the department computers. Anything new on the identity of the inside man?”

Sloan shook her head. “Nothing beyond what we knew this weekend. There are two ADAs who had access to the warrants and who could’ve tipped someone off to the details of the computer investigations: Margaret Campbell and George Beecher.”

“Let’s sit down with their proÞ les tomorrow and look for something that’s off,” Rebecca said. “Make sure their jackets are complete—criminal records search, education and Þ nancial summaries, job evals—all of it.”

• 42 •

Justice Served

“Done.”

“Watts and I will arrange surveillance on both of them. It’ll be tricky, because they’re likely to be suspicious after the arrests this weekend. They’ll be looking for something out of the ordinary.” She glanced at Watts. “You and I should be the ones sitting on them, at least in the beginning.”

He pursed his lips. “Can’t do it 24-7.”

“Agreed, but I think it’s safe to assume they’re not likely to have contact with anyone during the day. So we’ll start with night tails.”

“You’re the boss.”