"All?"

He'd taken care of matters while she was getting ready-while trying to erase images of her and last night from his head. He'd been far more successful with the former than the latter.

"I've got people planted here." He gave her a rea.s.suring look before lifting the briefcase and placing it into the double locker. "The agency doesn't like leaving things to chance-or taking the word of a kidnapper."

So there were other people on their side here. Could she pick them out? Veronica scanned the immediate vicinity a second time with no more enlightenment than the first time. Everyone looked innocent. Everyone looked like a suspect.

Chad closed the door and turned the key, then returned it to Veronica. "Now we wait."

Veronica stared at the locker. So near and yet so far. She didn't know if she could take much more. "We wait," she repeated.

They were early. He had to get her mind occupied somehow. Chad glanced over his shoulder. There was a small coffee shop next to a magazine stand.

There were tables for two scattered in front of the shop. Sitting there, they'd have a clear view of the locker-and anyone who came by to open it. There was no point in hiding. The kidnapper had said that Casey would be brought to the station and released once the money was secure.

Everything that had ever gone into making him a good cop told him this was far too easy.

Taking her arm, Chad indicated the tables.

"Want some coffee?" She began to shake her head. "Casey'll be able to see you from over there," he pointed out.

She blinked as the words penetrated. "Sure. Coffee."

The thought of coffee made her stomach lurch, but holding the cup would give her something to do, and it was an excuse to sit at a table.

Where Casey could see her. She held on to the thought like a good-luck charm.

"I'll be right back," Chad promised, giving her arm a squeeze. "Get a table."

She nodded, moving like a zombie. Her eyes never left the lockers. That the other tables were empty, save for one occupant, registered only peripherally. She took a seat at a table that could be judged to be an inch or two closer to the bank of lockers than the others.

Chad emerged from the shop less than five minutes later, holding two large containers of coffee and balancing a glazed confection of some sort that almost slid off the plate as he set it down.

"For energy," he told her, though she hadn't asked. "Take a piece."

"Maybe later."

Her fingers were cold as he pushed the coffee toward her. Chad covered her hand with his.

She raised her eyes to his, seeking strength. He seemed so calm, so in control, while she felt as if she was going to fall to pieces again. How many times would she coast down this slope before the ordeal was finally over? Would it ever be over? The past couple of days had felt like an eternity.

"Do you think he'll really come?"

That part seemed straightforward enough. The tricky part was going to be catching their man. "He will if he wants the money." He felt her fingers curl into her hand beneath his. Chad had no doubt she was digging her nails in. "I won't insult you by telling you to relax, but maybe you should try to breathe a bit more deeply and evenly."

The suggestion brought a silent smile to her lips, which was all that he'd been after. Settling back to wait, Chad stretched out his legs, seeming not to have a care in the world. But one look into his eyes said otherwise.

He brought the cup to his lips, his eyes never straying from his target.

The exchange was to have been made at noon. The minutes dragged by, even as people hurried by them in both directions. The only time Veronica moved was to shift for a better view of the locker when someone momentarily blocked it.

People had come and gone within the busy station, but not a single one had approached the locker with the money in it. The knot in her stomach tightened.

By twelve-fifty she knew something had gone horribly wrong.

For the first time she spared a look at Chad. "Maybe he's changed his mind." The words, the insecurities began to tumble out faster and faster. "Maybe he's afraid to come because he thinks we've set a trap." A worse possibility occurred to her.

"Or maybe something's happened to him and Casey."

Unable to stand the direction her thoughts were taking, Veronica covered her mouth with her hands to keep the wave of hysteria back. She couldn't fall apart now, she couldn't.

"Stop it." A vein of kindness ran beneath the gruff command. Veronica looked at him again, dropping her hands to her lap. "You'll make yourself crazy."

But he couldn't dispute that something was definitely not right. It hadn't felt right since one minute after twelve. Maybe before. Though he had watched the locker the entire time and knew that Rusty and Sam were covering both ends of the terminal, Chad couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had gone awry. The kidnapper hadn't shown up, but he didn't think it was for any of the reasons Veronica had come up with.

Instinct told him that the kidnapper wouldn't just walk away from the money.

He rose to his feet. Veronica stared at him. "Where are you going?"

"To check out a hunch." He crossed quickly to the bank of lockers with Veronica hurrying beside him.

"What kind of hunch?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he asked her for the key.

"Why? No one opened the locker. I was watching the whole time." But she handed it to him.

"So was I, but I just want to make sure." He opened the door. And found the locker completely empty. Part of him had been expecting it, yet it seemed impossible. "How the h.e.l.l...?"

Veronica moved him aside to look for herself. There was nothing to see.

"Where is it?" she demanded. Frustration and confusion rang in her voice. She'd been watching the entire time. How had anyone gotten past her? "I didn't see anyone open it." She looked at Chad. "Did you?"

"No." Taking out his cell phone, Chad pressed the single number that got him in touch with both men in the terminal. "The money's gone."

Within seconds Rusty and Sam converged from opposite ends of the station. One look at their stunned expressions told Chad that neither of them had seen anyone approach the lockers, either.

Chad stared into the lockers. "d.a.m.n it, the guy's not a magician. The briefcase can't just disappear. Where is it?" As he began to swing the door closed in disgust, throwing the empty locker into darkness, something caught his eye. There was a pinp.r.i.c.k of light squeezing in at the rear base of the locker. He looked at Sam. "What's behind this locker?"

"Another bank of lockers," Sam told him.

The answer was so simple he could have kicked himself. He'd seen the other wall of lockers when he'd first walked in.

Silently calling himself an idiot, Chad hurried around to the other side. The door of the locker behind the one they'd been watching wasn't completely closed. As if someone had pushed it into place but hadn't bothered to make sure it had closed all the way. At first glance, it appeared to be identical to the one that had contained the briefcase.

"Just another empty locker," Rusty told his brother.

"You still have that Swiss Army knife I gave you for your twelfth birthday?" Chad asked. The beaten-up knife, which Chad had found, had been one of Rusty's prized