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Authors: Patricia Rosemoor

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He nodded and opened the door for her.

The area inside was small. A young Asian woman with spiked purple hair looked up from what she was doing when they entered. She stepped to the counter, her name tag identifying her simply as Ling.

“Good afternoon and welcome to Connect Chicago.” The young woman turned her attention to Camille. “How can I help you?”

“I'd like to speak with your manager.”

Ling grinned. “No problem. You're speaking with her.”

Seeming taken aback for a moment, Camille quickly recovered. “Well, then…” She licked her lips and held out her hand for a shake. “Detective Camille Martell.”

Ling's turn to appear uncomfortable, but she briefly touched limp fingers to Camille's. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“We've been investigating a person of interest who may be responsible for recent murders. He took a young girl from a shopping mall last night. Her life might be at stake.”

Ling gasped. “How terrible.”

Drago placed the printout Stone had given him on the counter. “This is the man we're looking for.”

Ling barely glanced at the paper before frowning. “What is it you expect me to do?”

“We need his real name and address.” Camille curved her lips into a plastic smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't reveal a customer's private information to just anyone.”

“I'm not just anyone.” Camille kept it together, but her voice tightened a hair. “I'm a detective in the Area North office. I've been working this case for months. We couldn't save the last young woman this guy took, but we're working hard to save this one.”

Ling stared at her for a minute, and her brow furrowed. “How do I know you're who you say you are? You're supposed to show me your badge and ID.”

Voice tightening another hair, she said, “I don't have them on me.”

“Well, then, maybe you'd better go get them. And a court order, too.”

“You don't understand.” Camille's spine grew poker stiff. “Court orders take time, and every hour counts.”

Drago squeezed her shoulder. Hard. His touching her didn't seem to register. He leaned past her and gave Ling his most promising smile.

“Time we might not have, Ling. We're talking about a fourteen-year-old girl. We're hoping to find her quickly. If you give us the information we need, I can make it worth your while.”

The woman hesitated, gave him a once-over, and sighed. “Tempting, but I could lose my job.
You
come back with a court order, handsome, and I'll be happy to share whatever you want.”

Damn!
Drago nodded. “Anything you say, sweetheart.”

Realizing Camille was winding up for an argument with the woman, he put an arm around her back and forced her to the door. By the time he opened it, she freed herself, and once on the other side turned to face him.

“This is just great! Hours wasted.”

“They're not wasted—”

“Why would you take me down a path that leads to nowhere?”

“—you're going to get a court order and get that information.”

“You tried to bribe her!”

“Too bad it didn't work. Right? Would've saved us some time.”

“But it
wasn't
right! You were going to pay her to do something that's against the law!”

She was working herself up into a head of steam, and he was simply getting pissed off.

“I never said I was going to give her
money
.” He'd hoped flirting with the woman would soften her. “I said I would make it worth her while.”

Camille gaped at him. He opened the passenger door but she didn't get inside. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“Are you smiling?”

“What's amusing about this? We're no closer to finding Sandy than when I walked into Justus Investigations this morning!”

“You're wrong. You're just going to have to do something you don't want to do—ask Rodriguez for help.”

“Do you really think he's going to do anything for me after putting me on leave? I'd rather Justus was working with me. He'd get that court order. I
knew
you were a mistake, Drago Nance. I just didn't know how big a one.”

Drago let her get it all out, but when she tried to turn away to get into the car, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him so that his face was practically in hers.

“You're not angry with me about today. You're still angry about what
didn't
happen four years ago. That I never called you like I said I would.”

“You're delusional.”

Maybe he was, but the way she was breathing—
little fast puffs—and the way her eyes had that wild look in them told him differently. She might be angry. She was definitely out of control. But he was certain she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He'd never stopped wanting her, had merely convinced himself that it would never work between them after his time in jail. But now he had to wonder…

He placed a hand at the back of her neck and inched her face forward so her nose brushed his. “Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop right now.”

“I-I-I—”

She couldn't say it, because she didn't really want him to stop. He showed her in the most effective way he knew how. Lip-to-lip.

She froze for a moment.

He deepened the kiss.

The next thing he knew, she was kissing him back. Really kissing him. Four years ago kissing him. Deep. Soul-sucking. Stunning as hell.

She snaked her arms around his neck.

Pressed her breasts into his chest.

Inserted a knee between his thighs.

Drago's head went light. His cock was wood. He was ready to take her. Here. Now. In the middle of the street. Passersby be damned.

The last thought jarred him out of his mindless state. He remembered their mission, the reason they were together in the first place.

Sliding his hands around Camille's arms, he held her fast as he pulled his mouth from hers. The hazy expression in her eyes hardened. Her softened features tightened.

Blinking at him, she took a step back and gasped, “I'd better get on that court order. Now.”

Chapter Five

Camille sat tight-lipped in his car on the way to the Area North office. Drago had a lot of nerve kissing her in public. Kissing her at all. And what was wrong with her? Resisting had been futile. That had been more than a kiss. It had been a reminder of what never should have been in the first place. She never should have gotten involved with Drago Nance, not even for one lousy weekend. Okay, not lousy. So it wasn't lousy. Just misguided. But she definitely never should have agreed to let him help her now.

Only if she hadn't, she wouldn't have a thing to work with.

“You want me to go in with you?” he asked.

Coming out of her mental haze, Camille realized they'd just pulled into the area office parking lot. “I need to face the dragon alone.” She was thinking
her funeral
, but she didn't say it aloud. Besides, she wasn't the important one here.

Drago brought the car to a stop at the front entrance. “Luck.”

“Thanks. I'll need some.”

Taking a big breath, she left the car and entered the building. Everyone in the front office looked to see who'd come in. They tried to keep it normal, calling out greetings and waving, but their expressions showed their surprise. She was certain they all knew she had been forced to take an administrative leave and had no business here at the moment.

Smiling and waving in return, she didn't stop to talk to anyone, other than to ask one of the uniforms in the hall for Lieutenant Hector Rodriguez's whereabouts. She found her supervisor in the coffee room, chatting up Eli Jackson, an older detective she'd worked with on several cases, including Angel's. Now in charge of the case the task force had dubbed Chat Room Predator, Jackson seemed to have aged overnight. She swore even more of his tightly kinked hair was shadowed with gray. And so was the caramel skin under his oddly pale eyes.

Forcing a smile to her lips, she walked straight up to the men. “Glad to find both of you together.”

“Martell, what are you doing here?” Rodriguez asked.

“I have information—”

“You're not on the case.”

“—information that might save a girl's life.”

Jackson held up a hand, stopping Rodriguez from arguing further, and his features lightened a bit. “I'd like to hear it. See if it's something we can use. Let her talk, Lieutenant.”

Though his brow was furrowed, and his mustache quivered with indignation, Rodriguez swallowed any objection. “Go ahead.”

“Angel's ISP. I have it. Connect Chicago.” She pulled out a copy of the information from Stone and handed it to Jackson. “But we need a court order to get Angel's real name and address from them.”

“There is no ‘we' here,” Rodriguez said.

Jackson looked over the printout. “How did you get this?”

“Nothing disappears off the Net.”

Rodriguez reminded her, “But your computer was confiscated.”

“I have an old laptop.” She wasn't going to tell him they'd downloaded on Drago's. “Not one that was used on those chat rooms before Sandy made contact with Angel.” That was the truth. “But I keep backup in the cloud.”

“So you still didn't quit the case even after I put you on leave.”

“I just couldn't walk away and pretend it wasn't my responsibi
lity.”

He waved the paper in her face. “And you went to a hacker to get this?”

She shrugged as if she didn't have an opinion on that particular option. “I got information from a friend of a friend. The important thing is that this could help us save Sandy Kawecki. Isn't that what we all want?”

If she read Rodriguez right, he was blazing mad at her. Not that she blamed him. He certainly wasn't any more uptight with her than she was with herself. It was that look of disappointment shadowing his eyes that trumped everything. She respected Hector Rodriguez and wanted him to feel the same way about her and her work ethic. And until now, she was pretty certain he had. Man, she'd screwed things up. She had to make things right.

“Take me out of the equation,” she begged him. “I'll stand back. I'm not asking you to do this
for me.
Think about the girl.”

“She's
all
I'm thinking about.” Still wearing his angry face, Rodriguez aimed it at Jackson. “Get to the paperwork requesting a search warrant. Fast. And then fax it to Judge Garrison. He'll be all over it.”

“You got it.” Jackson nodded to Rodriguez.

When his deep-set eyes met Camille's, his expression softened into something akin to pity. Obviously he felt for her situation. He gave her a little nod of encouragement before running off to get the paperwork started.

“Sir, I want to thank you—”

“No thanks needed. An apology would be in order.”

But she wasn't sorry that she'd followed up and had gotten something that might help them find Sandy before it was too late. “I apologize if I've made anything more difficult for
you
, sir.”

He gave her one of those intense looks that would cower a lesser person. She stood her ground, head held high, and looked him straight in the eyes.

Finally, he asked, “So who's the friend helping you?”

Being purposely vague, she said, “I went to Justus Investigat
ions—”

“Figures.”

Rodriguez knew she'd always had a good working relationship with her mentor. And he'd been sorry to see his best detective quit the force. Had even tried talking Justus out of doing so, said the department would never be the same.

“So you and Justus are working together again.”

Camille licked her lips. “Not exactly.” Hoping he would drop it, she said, “Justus assigned an investigator he thought better suited to the case.”

Rodriguez's forehead furled into a frown. “So
you
go to him and he leaves it to someone else? Doesn't sound acceptable to me. Who?”

Okay, here it came. Unable to hedge any longer, Camille steeled herself against the expected reaction. “His brother.”

“Brother? How many does he have? Not Drago. You can't mean Drago Nance.”

She nodded. “Indeed I can.”

“You're on administrative leave, working a case that's not yours anymore and you're doing it with an ex-con?”

His voice rose enough that she was certain detectives in the bull pen on the other side of the break room could hear him.

“He wasn't my choice. He has his investigator's license.”

“Only because the ASA offered Drago a deal and he pleaded that felony down to a misdemeanor to get out of Cook County with time served. Good God, Martell, you know Lucas Anderson holds a grudge. He could use his political clout to make sure the board holds this against
you
. Are you out of your mind?”

She didn't even hesitate. “Yes, sir, I am. I
am
out of my mind…over not stopping Angel before he killed Leanne Grant. I couldn't sleep at night for thinking about it. The worry affected me here at work, made you take me off the case. But I had to do
something
. I never thought searching for Angel in chat rooms would put someone else in danger. If only I had locked down my computer…” She shook her head. “
Now
I'm out of my mind worrying about my neighbor's kid who was just supposed to walk my dog. Tell me how I can be haunted by
that
and do
nothing
?” Rodriguez was a cop with a great reputation. As a detective, he'd closed more cases than any of his fellow colleagues, the reason he'd gone up the department ladder so fast. “Tell me you would be able to walk away from it and wait for some board to make up its mind, maybe too late to save a vic you know.”

“No one is forgetting the victim! The task force is doing everything we can to find the girl and get enough evidence to lock up this Angel for good.”

Which is all they could do to him, considering the state of Illinois no longer had the death penalty on the table.

“But the task force still hasn't made progress that I've heard. Plus, you don't know Sandy Kawecki personally.” Not that she really did, either, but he didn't have to know that. She was using that fact to elicit his sympathy. Rodriguez wasn't usually a hard ass, especially not when it came to a case like this one. “You aren't responsible for her being taken by this bastard.
I am.

“Let me remind you again. You're off the case.”

“Officially,” she agreed.

She locked gazes with him, willed him to give her the unspoken okay to keep working on it. Instead, his eyes again filled with his disappointment in her.

“When you walked in here, you said you would take a step back.”

“I meant I wouldn't interfere or insist on assisting with the official investigat
ion.”

“Not good enough.” Rodriguez shook his head. “You're hurting yourself, Martell. I'm telling you, for your own good, to stop and leave the investigation to the task force.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but my conscience tells me otherwise.”

His tone held steel. “There's no room in this department for a vigilante.”

She'd heard some similar stories about him in his early days, but she didn't think it prudent to say so. Silence was her only option at the moment.

Glaring at her, he said, “I don't know what your deal is, but you need to quell it or your may just lose your job. For good.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Camille shaking inside. If that happened…no, it couldn't happen…not over one mistake that she had to fix. No choice. Besides, she was good at what she did. Maybe great. Okay, so she was a little shaky on this one.

But if there was someone to rein her in…to give her a boost when needed…

That someone was Drago Nance.

It all came down to a man she never thought she would see again and how well he would work with her. Would
he
follow orders from her? Would he support her in a way that would keep her out of more trouble when she knew that
he
could be trouble with a capital T?

She couldn't lose her job. Being a homicide detective was who she was. It was her life. Her identity. If she didn't have this, what then?

She would be left with nothing.

—

A knot tied up his gut as Drago waited for Camille. In her current state, was she good enough to convince Rodriquez to get her that search warrant? He didn't know her lieutenant personally. Didn't want to know the man. Or any cop. They'd pretty much been a disappointment to him his entire life.

Including his brother.

As part of the force, Justus had let him cool his heels in Cook County for more than six months. His own brother had refused to bail him out as he damn well could have and should have.

Drago loved his brother but resented him, too. Didn't matter that Justus had walked off the job over Drago's incarceration. That Drago had been punished because he was too passionate about the damage done to a friend had been the last straw for Justus. He might call himself a PI now, but at heart, he was still the cop he'd always been. They were so different, Drago thought. While they might have the same goal to bring satisfaction to victims either of criminals or of the system itself, they had very different ways of getting down to business.

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