Possibilities spun through her mind, but fear was jumbling her thoughts. How many times had she played hide-and-seek with Nicolas? Where did he like to hide? "Th-the staircase. There's an alcove beneath it."

He took her in that direction just as keys rattled in the front door. As the door squeaked open they ducked behind an old desk Angela had been refinishing. For a terrible moment Jess thought they had been spotted.

"Easy," Madrid whispered.

Jess barely heard him over the wild beat of her heart. She looked at him, but didn't dare speak. Someone was in the house; she could hear them moving around. Ten feet away a flashlight beam cut through the darkness, swept over the desk they were hiding behind.

Oh, G.o.d. Oh, G.o.d!

She heard heavy footfalls on the wood floor. Getting closer. Her pulse roared like a jet engine in her ears. She couldn't remember if she'd closed the desk drawer in Angela's office. Would they notice?

Closing her eyes tightly, she clutched the file against her chest and tried desperately to control her breathing. Vaguely she was aware of the crackle of a police radio.

"This is 1452. I'm 10-23, and there's no sign of a 10-14. Over."

"Roger that, 1452."

Jess opened her eyes to see the flashlight beam cut toward the kitchen. The sound of footsteps faded. Next to her, Madrid was as silent and still as stone. But she could feel the minute tremor that ran through him; she could feel the heat emanating from his body into hers, and at that moment the sensation comforted her in a way nothing else could have.

"Shhh...easy."

His mouth was less than an inch from her ear, so close she could feel the warm brush of his breath against her skin. The moment shouldn't have been anything but terrifying. It certainly shouldn't have been intimate. But even frightened for her life, Jess couldn't deny the slice of heat low in her belly.

After several minutes the front door opened and closed. The faint sound of an engine starting sounded from outside. Madrid moved out from behind the desk first. Jess straightened, but her legs were too weak to move.

He crossed to the window and peered out. "He's gone."

She pressed a hand to her stomach, the reality of what they'd narrowly avoided making her feel sick. "How did he know we were here?"

"He didn't." Madrid's eyes cut to hers. "If he'd known he would have looked harder. He would have found us."

"But why was he here?"

He glanced out the window again. "I don't know. Maybe a neighbor saw our flashlight. Thought we were burglarizing the place." His gaze flicked to the folder she was clutching to her chest. "What's that?"

Jess had nearly forgotten about the file. "I think I found something."

He reached for it, tucked it into his waistband. "Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here."

MADRID WASN'T EASILY shaken; he'd been through too many life-and-death situations to let the incident at Angela's house shake him. Only, this one had. And the response troubled him. He knew it wasn't because he feared for his own safety, but for Jess's.

He couldn't let himself get too close to her. He sure as h.e.l.l couldn't let himself care. Bad things happened to the people who got close to him. Too bad he was failing miserably on both counts.

"Where are we going?"

He glanced at Jess, felt the knot in his gut loosen at the sight of her. She was lovely, and for an instant he wanted to reach out and touch her just to make sure she was real.

"In case you've forgotten, we've got one more stop to make," he said.

She looked a little green around the gills. "The police station."

"You got a better idea?"

"No."

She was trying to be brave about it, but he could tell the thought terrified her. To be perfectly honest it terrified him, too. But for all the wrong reasons.

"Look," he said, "I'm going to pull over so I can take a look at this file. Maybe there's something here that will tell us what to look for at the station." He knew it was wishful thinking, but he was hoping there was something inside the file that would clear up the mystery so they didn't have to venture into the police station at all. Not b.l.o.o.d.y likely.

"There's a dirt road up ahead," she said.

Heavy fog had moved in from the bay, giving the forest that ran along the coastal highway an ethereal appearance. Madrid turned onto a narrow dirt road. He stopped out of sight from the highway and shut down the engine. "Okay, let's see what we've got."

Jess handed him the file. "There are notes and photographs."

Turning on the dome light, he opened the file. A smile touched his mouth at the sight of Angela's neat handwriting. She'd always been meticulous. How ironic that he would appreciate that most after her death.

He read the notes twice, trying to decipher the abbreviations and read between the lines.

"Looks like she was spying on the Lighthouse Point PD," Jess said.

Madrid read the notes again, his focus lingering on the names. "She seems suspicious of Finks."

"The officer?"

He flipped to the photographs. They were similar to the one Angela had given Jess. Young women, most of Asian descent, being held against their will. The questions were where? and why?

"I still think we could be dealing with a human smuggling ring," he said after a moment.

Jess blinked at him. "It's difficult to believe things like that can happen in the United States."

"You'd be surprised by what happens in the United States."

"How does it work?"

"It's an ugly business. Young women, usually living in impoverished conditions, are promised a better life here in the United States. Sometimes they're told they can do domestic work to repay the cost of transportation to the United States, which is usually by ship. Of course the organizer charges a fee for taking the risk and putting it all together. Usually the fee is so high these women will never be able to pay it back."

"Indentured servants."

"In essence." Madrid grimaced. "Once they arrive, they're sold to the highest bidder or sold into prost.i.tution."

"But why don't they go to the police?"

"Because they're illegal immigrants. Most of them don't know English. They don't know their way around. They have no friends or family here. They're lied to from the moment they arrive." He rolled his shoulder. "A few escape only to wind up on the street. Most don't."

"That's incredibly sad."

"It is," he agreed. "Especially for the women who have children."

Jess looked out the window. Madrid saw her blink rapidly, knew she was thinking about Nicolas. "If the Lighthouse Point PD is involved, we have to expose them."

"I know."

The problem was Madrid wasn't quite sure how to go about it. If he'd been operating alone he'd already have come down on the Lighthouse Point PD so hard and fast they wouldn't know what had hit them. He would have taken advantage of the myriad resources he had access to through the MIDNIGHT Agency.

But nothing was going right this time. He'd estranged himself from the agency, so he couldn't call upon them for help. At least, not officially.

More important, he didn't want to put Jess in danger. He wished he'd been able to convince her to stay back at the mission with his brother. If something happened to her...

"How are we going to get inside the police department?"

He frowned at her, not liking the question, but liking very much what he saw when he looked into her eyes. d.a.m.n, he wished she hadn't come along.

"We create a diversion," he said.

Her eyes narrowed. "You have something in mind?"

"I always have something in mind." He slid the photos back into the file and put the file under the seat.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me."

"Arson," he said.

"Arson?" She gaped at him. "You mean as in breaking the law? Burning something down? What kind of agent are you?"

"The kind who knows how to get the job done."

She sighed. "What are we burning down?"

"There's a new police station and city hall being built on the south side of town. Right now it's just being framed. Lots of wood."

"A fire waiting to happen."

He lifted a shoulder, let it drop. "Part of the roof is up, so it should be partially dry."

She seemed to think about that for a moment. "What if someone gets hurt?"

"It's a stand-alone building."

"How do we go about it?"

"Leave that me," he said, and started the engine.

JESS HAD KNOWN unraveling the mystery behind Angela's murder wasn't going to be easy. But she'd been so intent on bringing the culprits to justice that she hadn't considered the dangers.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest as Madrid idled slowly past the skeletal structure of the new Lighthouse Point Police Department. The building was just off the main drag, nestled between a vacant lot and a small park. She'd driven past the place a dozen times and never given it more than a pa.s.sing glance.

He parked in a narrow alley a block away, out of sight from the street, and shut down the engine. Jess watched as he reached into the backseat and retrieved the small satchel he'd brought from the cottage.

"What's in that anyway?" she asked.

"It's just Angela's bag of tricks." He opened the satchel. "I added a few of my own."

Her pulse rate tripled as he began pulling out items she couldn't begin to identify. A tiny black box with what looked like six inches of cord hanging from it. Another item that looked like a miniature garage-door opener. An odd-looking pistol that appeared to be made of plastic. "A gun?" she asked.

"Dart gun. Nonlethal. It delivers a potent tranquilizer."

"In case someone shows up?"

"The fire will take care of the officers on duty, keep them busy for a while. But I expect there will be others who remain at the station." His smile looked as lethal as the gun. "Don't want to kill any cops."

Jess pressed her hand to her stomach at the thought of confronting any of the Lighthouse Point cops. She'd never broken the law before, and she didn't like the feeling. Even if it was for a much greater good.

Madrid reached up and unscrewed the dome light again. "Slide behind the wheel."

Even though the night was chilly, sweat broke out on the back of her neck when he got out of the car. Her palms were wet with sweat when she slid across the seat and set her hands on the steering wheel.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked.

She wasn't. Not by a long shot. But it was too late to turn back now. If she wanted Angela's killer to be caught, they were going to have to go through with this. "I'm sure."

He quietly closed the driver's side door and looked around. "I want you to stay here for exactly ten minutes in the alley."

She checked the clock on the dash. "Okay."

"Then I want you to drive over to the new police department building. I'll be waiting." He put the items back into the satchel and hooked it on his belt.

"Once you pick me up, things are going to move fast."

Jess thought things were already moving fast. Too fast, if she wanted to be honest.

"If anything happens...if I get caught...anything, I want you to drive like a bat out of h.e.l.l back to the coastal highway and head north." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Call this number and someone will pick you up. Tell them everything."

Her hand shook when she reached for the paper. Madrid noticed it, too, and he frowned. He leaned in close, intensity glinting in his eyes when his gaze met hers. Without speaking he kissed her hard on the mouth. Kissing Mike Madrid was like stepping on a live electrical cord. Jess felt her thoughts scramble and her body heat up despite the fear coursing through her. And somehow she knew everything was going to be okay.

Then, as quickly as he had kissed her, he was gone.

Jess sat with both hands on the wheel, her heart pounding, and watched him sprint to the mouth of the alley. His shoes were silent on the asphalt. He moved with the grace of a big dark cat. A predator on the prowl. He became one with the night. And then he was gone, and she was alone.

The minutes seemed to tick by like hours. Two minutes pa.s.sed. Four. Seven. Around her the area was like a ghost town. Her heart nearly exploded when a vehicle pa.s.sed by the mouth of the alley, but a glance told her it was only a street sweeper.

One minute to go. Her hand shook uncontrollably when she started the engine. The motor turning over sounded like a gunshot in the dead silence. Looking both ways, she pulled onto the street. She was thirty yards from the construction site when a yellow flicker caught her attention. She stared, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles hurt.

A soft knock on the pa.s.senger window nearly sent her out of her skin. All she could think was that Madrid had been caught and she was busted. Both of them would be carted off to jail-or murdered.

But it was only Madrid. She hit the b.u.t.ton to unlock the door and he slid smoothly inside.

"Drive," he said as he closed the door. "Nice and easy. Don't speed."