Tucker's eyes narrowed as he studied her. "You're one h.e.l.l of a woman, Alexa Harris."

Despite her nerves, she smiled.

"Let's do this."

Bolstered by Tucker's confidence, she gripped his fingers tighter and nodded. "Okay."

Hand-in-hand, she and Tucker joined Detective Canon, along with Officer Detrick and a buff, bald man Alexa had never seen before.

"Alexa, this is Special Agent Jerrod Terron from the FBI. He's one of our taskforce members. He'll be working with us tonight."

The agent held out his hand. "Ms. Harris, we appreciate your willingness to help."

Alexa returned his handshake. "I'm doing this for my sister."

"I'm familiar with your sister's case. We're doing everything we can to bring her home."

Alexa's brow winged up as she digested the agent's load of bull c.r.a.p. "Are you sure about that? It seems to me everyone's more interested in arresting Zachary Hartwell than they are in helping the victims in this ordeal."

Detective Canon choked on his coffee.

Tucker winked at her and glanced down in his attempt to hide his grin.

Detective Canon put his cup down. "Alexa, we should run through the safety precautions one last time before you head over to the restaurant."

"Yes. Okay."

"There will be several undercovers planted around the restaurant, the parking lot, and the park. We'll be monitoring your entire conversation from the vans. Make sure you leave the wire alone. Don't fidget or call attention to the device. If for any reason you feel like something's off, use your phrase-'Is it hot in here?'-and Officer Detrick will interrupt the date. She's your long-lost friend, Christina, from school. She moved away your soph.o.m.ore year."

That wasn't so much to remember. "Got it."

"It's six-forty. You should head over."

After weeks of waiting for a moment like this, it was here. Alexa took another deep breath. "All right."

"You'll do great," Officer Detrick patted her shoulder. "Having a few nerves actually works in this situation. It's a first date."

This was her only 'date.' Alexa gave the officer a small smile. "That's true."

"Here you go." Agent Terron handed her a set of car keys. "It's the red Kia just outside. When the evening's over, drive back, and we'll debrief and send you on your way with Mr. Campbell. Remember, do not make further plans with this man tonight. Tell him you have to check your calendar and you'll get back to him should he try to pursue a second meeting."

She nodded and looked at Tucker before heading for the door. It was show time, and she was as eager as she was terrified to begin. Under the layers of nerves was a burning desire for justice. She wouldn't screw this up; she couldn't afford to. Alexa stepped from the small, empty apartment two blocks from the restaurant, walked to the government-issued vehicle she would borrow for the next couple of hours, and got in. Pulling down the visor, she checked her hair and makeup. "Here goes nothing," she murmured to herself as she started the car. "I'm going to kick a.s.s for you tonight, Ab." She flipped the visor back up with a snap, reversed out of the parking spot, and turned right on Boston Street. Within minutes she pulled into the large communal parking lot close to the Bayside Cafe and parked just a short walk away.

She got out and scanned the cars around her as her anxiety built. Where were the surveillance vehicles? Where was Tucker? Who were the cops among the busy crowds of people milling about? Beads of sweat dripped down her back, and her hands trembled. "Stop," she whispered as she looked down and closed her eyes. "Stop," she repeated. This wouldn't work if she couldn't keep it together. She couldn't worry about who was whom and who was where. She needed to focus on finding Steve-O and gathering information that would help Abby-period.

Steadier and ready to begin again, she smoothed her skirt, straightened her shoulders, and headed for the beautiful old mill building that was the Bayside Cafe. Two men waited close to the door. One had to be in his early fifties. Surely that wasn't Steve-O. The tall, thirty-something in khakis and olive green top with light brown hair and a handsome face glanced at his watch.

Was that him? Was that Steve-O? The profile picture he'd used was so...vague; it was no help right now-and certainly that was the plan. Should she call out to him? What did she call him? Steve-O? What had she been thinking?

The man in the kakis looked up. "Jenny?"

Oh G.o.d. Oh G.o.d-this was it. She forced a smile through the fear. "Yes."

Grinning, he walked forward, took her hand, and kissed her knuckles. "You're even more beautiful in person."

Her smile widened as her pulse continued to hammer. "Thank you."

"Should we get a table?"

"Yes. Definitely."

He opened the door and pressed his fingers to the small of her back as she went in before him. She stepped with him to the hostess stand, her legs trembling. What had she gotten herself into? Why did she think she could pull this off? She'd never dated. Jack had been her first and last everything. They'd hit it off so naturally. He'd always made the moves, at least until she stopped being shy. She didn't know how to do this. She wasn't an eighteen-year-old free spirit; she was twenty-seven with a beautiful three-year-old waiting for her at home.

"Stevens," Steve-O said to the attractive, raven-haired beauty behind the small table. "Party of two." He stroked his finger down Alexa's arm and sent their hostess a wolfish grin.

Stevens? Was that his last name? What was his first?

"Inside or outside dining tonight?" The woman smiled back, ignoring Alexa.

Steve-O returned his attention to Alexa, as if she was the only person in the room. "Inside or out?"

"Out is fine." The cooling breeze off the water would be refreshing. She was burning up.

"Out it is."

The hostess in her short black skirt and revealing red top showed them to the deck overlooking the harbor. "How's this?"

"Does this work, Jenny?" He smiled.

The lights around the city were starting to wink on. Boats floated by on the bay. "It's perfect."

"This'll do. Thank you," Steve-O said with a flirty grin for their hostess.

"Enjoy your evening." She set down two menus and winked. "Rachel will be your server." She walked away with a little extra sway in her hips.

Alexa barely suppressed an eye roll. Their hostess wouldn't be so quick to sashay about if she had half a clue that a nasty snake slithered below the charming smile, neat khakis, and expensive polo of Mr. Stevens.

"Are you sure this is okay?" He pulled out her chair. "The breeze is kind of brisk. I think it might rain later."

"Really, it's lovely." She pressed her lips together as she admonished herself. Eighteen-year-olds did not say 'lovely.' They said 'cool' or 'awesome'-anything but 'lovely.' "It's great," she added. "Really great."

"Have a seat."

She smiled under her lashes and sat. "Thanks."

"No problem."

He settled on his side, and Alexa set the strap of her purse around the back of her chair. She scanned the tables around her and the brick walking path just feet from the deck. Her eyes locked on Tucker's among the busy pedestrians rambling about.

"-drink?"

"Huh?" Alexa's gaze shot to Steve-O's.

He smiled. "I said would you like something to drink?"

"Sorry. Water. Water's fine." She needed to get his name. The police would be able to track him down if they knew his full name. "So, I don't know... This is really embarra.s.sing. I don't know your name. I thought it was Steve or Steven, but that's your last name."

He chuckled. "I'm Eric. Eric Stevens."

She smiled. "Eric." Hopefully Detective Canon heard that loud and clear. They now had a face and a name. Despite her nerves and doubts, Alexa was more determined than ever to pull the night off.

Their waitress wandered over to the table. "Welcome to Bayside Cafe. I'm Rachel. Can I start you with a drink?"

"The lady will have a water, and I'll have a Bud draught." He smiled at Alexa and took her hand as the waitress walked away. "I'm glad we could do this. When I saw your picture and read your profile, I knew we were going to hit it off."

And the curtain was officially up. It was time to get down to business. There would be few distractions now that their drinks were on the way. She consciously relaxed her shoulders and leaned her forearms on the table. "I was a little nervous. This is my first time doing the web-dating thing. One of my girlfriends had some luck, so I thought, why not?"

"I've met a lot of really cool people online."

"I bet. I guess I was a bit hesitant to dive in though, because of the whole creep factor."

His brow shot up. "Creep factor?"

"Yeah, you know, those creeps you read about in the newspaper that like to take advantage of women. It leaves a girl wary."

He held up his hands. "You're in luck. I'm one-hundred percent creep-free."

She chuckled as her brain screamed 'liar.'

"So, you're into photography?"

"I am. I love it. I took a course in high school-my junior year. I've been obsessed ever since."

"I'm a fashion photographer."

"That's what you're profile says-pretty sweet."

The waitress was back with their drinks. Eric murmured his thanks as Rachel walked away. "Do you want to order anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm good for now. Tell me more about yourself, especially your job. It sounds exciting."

"It really is. I enjoy the travel, the art, the beautiful women-pretty much every part of it."

Alexa fiddled with her straw, stirring the clear plastic among the ice cubes with her free hand, happy to have somewhere to direct her nervous energy. "I would love to have a career like yours, but I still have so much to learn. I need to go to college. My parents are totally on my b.u.t.t about the whole thing, but I don't want to right now. I want to travel and see the world for a while, ya know?"

"I wouldn't waste my time behind a camera if I were you." He took her chin between his thumb and index finger and turned her face slightly. "You're bone structure is amazing. I'm itching for my camera right now. You could make millions."

She struggled not to pull back as he continued to touch her. Was this how he did it? Did they fall so easily for the positive strokes and promises of a profitable career? "Millions? I would love that." Giggling, she leaned in closer and felt the wire against her chest connect with the table. She sat up quickly and fought not to touch her shirt and give herself away. "You know, that's my dream. To be every man's fantasy and make money while I do it. Maybe that sounds demeaning or like I don't have much of a self-esteem-wanting every man to want me."

"Every man does want you, Jenny. Trust me." He smiled. "And I can make your dreams come true, especially with that face and body of yours. They're going to take you a long way. I can probably get you some hours at my next shoot. It's underwear. Your legs are screaming to show off a beautiful pair of silky panties."

She shook her head and looked down as she swallowed her disgust. This guy was a pig. "I can't believe this might happen. I can't believe my dreams might come true."

"You're gorgeous."

She almost said, 'Thank you,' but she remembered the girl he wanted would have a shaky self-esteem at best. "No, I'm-I'm not. But I want to be."

"You're gorgeous," he whispered and kissed each of her fingers. "Let me photograph you."

"At the park?"

He shook his head. "Not with the rain coming in. Come to my place. Monday night. I'll cook you dinner."

"Oh, I don't know." She feigned reluctance as she gained confidence in her ability to pull this off. Eric was eating it up. "I have to check with my mom first."

He frowned. "Your mom?"

She looked down. "Yeah, we have plans Monday. I've been trying to do stuff with her now and again since my dad left. I'm sure I can break them and make it up to her another night, though. Let me check."

"Sounds good." He played his thumb over her bottom lip. "I'm looking forward to showing you what everyone else sees. Bring your camera. We'll trade techniques."

She suppressed a shudder, wishing desperately that he would stop touching her. "Trade? But you're a professional."

"Gotta start somewhere, right?"

She smiled. "That's true."

A tray full of entrees crashed to the floor, and Alexa jumped. She glanced over and gasped as the waitress scrambled to clean up her mess. There he was, sitting at a table with a stunning blonde. Renzo met her eyes across the room and smiled. She turned back to Eric and yanked up her gla.s.s, desperate for a sip of cool water.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." Why was he here? Why was Renzo here at this restaurant? The coincidence was too huge.

"You sure?"

"Mm, definitely."

"Are you ready to order some food?"

"Absolutely." They'd been here for almost an hour, but she didn't plan to go anywhere until she had plenty of time to study her sister's worst nightmare sitting across the room. There had to be a connection between Lorenzo Cruz and Eric Stevens. There simply had to be.

Jackson sat in the surveillance vehicle, hanging on Alex's every word as they transmitted from her wire into his headphones. He hadn't moved from his uncomfortable corner on the small cramped bench in more than an hour and a half. He rubbed at the burning ache in his shoulders while he scrutinized the live video feed on the laptop, trying to interpret every gesture crossing her face. The discomfort squeezing the base of his neck was almost as brutal as the agony of having to sit back in the safety of the van while Alex risked it all. But she was doing a h.e.l.l of a job. She could safely add acting to her list of numerous talents. If he didn't know Alex as well as he did, he would believe she was enjoying herself. She'd gone from tense and shy to relaxed and flirty as the evening dragged on.

Her laughter flooded his ears, and he ground his teeth when Eric Stevens made another bad joke. d.a.m.n, he was ready for this to be over. He'd been ready to end this since the word 'go.' Getting Alex back to California and out of harm's way couldn't happen soon enough. He glanced at his watch. A little more than twelve hours and they were out of here.

He wanted things back the way they had been just two days ago, when she laughed and smiled for him. He wanted Alex in his home-in his bed, with their daughter sleeping in the room across the hall. But that would take some time. They had a lot to come back from. Deception and harsh words left their relationship in tatters. They lost more ground still when they'd stumbled through the awkward conversation by his parents' stairwell hours before. Alex's eyes had pleaded for comfort and rea.s.surances, but he hadn't been able to give them. He'd wanted to pull her against him and tell her he would be with her every step of the way, but he'd stayed silent and let her walk away.

Growing restless, Jackson stretched his cramping legs and sat back as the waitress came to check on Alex and Eric's progress with their appetizer platter. How long could they drag out an evening when the mozzarella sticks and loaded potato skins were almost gone? It couldn't be much longer. Hopefully Alex would make her way back to the apartment building within the hour. He would meet her there and take her home while Tucker dealt with the bulls.h.i.t. They needed to talk. Maybe they could sit on the dock and figure things out. He wanted to lay with her tonight. He missed falling asleep with her. h.e.l.l, the past few nights he hadn't done anything but toss and turn in his own bed.