Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) (28 page)

“Son of a bitch.” Jackson set his mug down as he stood and walked to Tucker’s side of the desk. Finally they were getting somewhere. “Let me see.”

Tucker handed over the printed sheets.

Jackson skimmed the first couple of conversations between Kristen and ‘Crazy80’. They did the typical get to know you dance with casually flirty questions and answers. Crazy80 bragged about his career in the fashion industry. Kristen shared her plans to get out of Baltimore and move to New York, where she wanted to start her modeling career. She ranted about her parents and their divorce and her desire to be far away from them. “Crazy80’s a fucking pro. He keeps things nice and vague, but Kristen sure as hell is willing to spill.”

Tucker leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “He structures his responses with double talk. It seems like he’s saying something, but really he’s not saying a goddamn thing. Kristen eats up the sympathy he dishes out while she feeds him more information about herself. Pretty classic fishing.”

Jackson grunted as he continued scanning through the chats. Crazy80 had definitely played this game a few times. Poor naïve Kristen didn’t have a chance against declarations of strong feelings and deep connections and promises of a glamorous career. Jackson flipped to the next page and clenched his jaw while he read the rest. “So they met?”

“Looks like.”

“Fucking-A,” Jackson muttered as he shook his head and continued. Crazy80 and Kristen’s date had been magical, something special. Crazy80 wanted to meet with Kristen again and make all of her dreams come true. Jackson frowned as he struggled to decipher Tucker’s chicken scratch notes at the bottom of the page. “Jesus, Campbell, where the hell did you learn to write? Olivia probably has better handwriting.”

“Where’d you learn to read? It says ‘Kristen disappeared a week after the last web contact.’

Jackson looked up and met Tucker’s stare. “He’s one of their lures. Who the hell is Crazy80?”

“That was my take, and we’re not sure. Ethan’s working on that right now, but really, he could be anybody. Photoshop a picture of whoever the hell you want into the profile, make something up, and bam—you’re Crazy80. Whoever he is, he’s smart. He’s been careful to use public access computers at the university and public library.”

Jackson nodded and scanned the conversations again. “And we’re sure on the time frame between Kristen’s disappearance and their last ‘date’?”

“Absolutely.”

“And remind me why the cops never figured this out.”

“If Kristen didn’t access her Baltimore Dates account at home, there wouldn’t be any record in her computer’s history. According to the information we have, she was in and out of her parents’ house for much of the month before her disappearance. Her mother called the cops several times to report Kristen as a runaway. Kristen may have the three Bs, but she’s also a fucking mess.”

“This whole
thing’s
a fucking mess.” Jackson handed the papers back to Tucker. “Refresh my memory—last known whereabouts?”

“Half a block from her friend’s apartment building—Ellwood Park area. She’d been crashing there because she couldn’t stand her mother, then out of the blue she decided she wants to take the bus home. Her friend encouraged her to stay, but Kristen wouldn’t. Next thing you know, the same friend is calling nine-one-one saying she saw two guys pull Kristen into the back of a van.”

“Ellwood Park? At night? By herself?”

“I’m at a loss for words, man. Kids are stupid. They think they’re invincible.”

“But doesn’t it strike you as risky on the kidnapper’s part to yank some kid up from the sidewalk like that at what, ten o’clock? I know the area’s bad news, but still…”

Tucker shrugged. “Crappy neighborhood. Nobody gives a shit. There weren’t any other witnesses, or at least no one else came forward. Seemed to work for them. Their method has worked for them every time, whether it be ten at night or four thirty in the afternoon, like with Abby.”

Jackson made a sound in his throat and took another sip from his mug. “Did Ethan find a profile on anyone else? What about Abby?”

“No. At least not yet. He’s still digging, but this is a damn good lead.”

Jackson nodded. “I agree. When we find out who this guy is, it’ll only be a matter of time before he leads us to Abby.”

“I’m going to talk to a friend on the force out in LA, see if she’d be willing to play decoy. I think we should set up a profile of our own. We might get a hit.”

“Good idea—”

The knock at the door cut Jackson off. Alex peeked her head in and met his eyes. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, come on in.” Jackson’s stomach clutched as she sent him a smile. Damn, she took his breath away. Despite Olivia waking them four hours after they lay down, Alex appeared rested. Alex smiled again while he stared at her in her snug blue jeans and light blue Sagawa Elementary PTO t-shirt, remembering the way she’d come alive in his arms before the sun came up. They had burned up the sheets more times than he could count in their college days, but it had been different last night;
they
had been different last night. Each touch and taste had meant more. He had taken their relationship for granted before. He would never make the same mistake again. “Where’s Liv?”

“She wanted Grammy to French braid her hair so she could be a
real
princess for the annual Matthew’s Neighborhood Barbeque this afternoon. I guess my regular braids aren’t good enough.” She chuckled.

He grinned. “A princess wants what a princess wants.”

“This is true.” She moved closer to the desk. “I thought I would pop in and see if Ethan had any more news on those websites.”

“Actually, he found a few things. Tucker and I were just discussing it.”

“That’s great.”

He loved watching her eyes brighten. “We’re looking into a couple of dating sites Detective Canon and his taskforce keep an eye on.”

She frowned. “But what does that have to do with Abby?”

“Honestly, we’re not sure yet, but we can’t afford to overlook anything.”

“What about Renzo? I thought you said you had something.” The light had vanished from her eyes.

“We do, but this doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with Renzo. That’ll take some time to figure out.”

“Oh.” She sat on the couch by the fireplace with a barely perceptible huff.

“One of the young women who vanished before Abby had a profile on Baltimore Dates. She was corresponding with someone on a regular basis up until the week she disappeared. The conversations follow a pretty classic pattern used by somebody fishing for a victim. This has sex trafficking written all over it, Alex. We haven’t connected all the pieces yet, but this has serious potential.” Maybe it was unfair to get her hopes up, but he truly believed this might be their big break. A bump on the right card could bring the whole house tumbling down.

“Abby wasn’t into online dating. She tried it once a couple years back. Her first and only experience turned out to be a disaster. The guy she went out with was an obnoxious chauvinist. She left the restaurant through the kitchen, and that was the end of that. Besides, Abby doesn’t have any trouble attracting a date if and when she wants one.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but there’s a connection somehow. Kristen converses with a potential lure in a sex ring and disappears a week later in an identical way to your sister. There’s definitely something here.” He looked at Tucker, who nodded his agreement.

“I guess.” She stood and started toward the door. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

He snagged her hand as she moved passed and pulled her to him, slinging his arm around her waist. “Take my word for it.” He ran his hand up and down her back as he looked her in the eye. “This is the first time we have a serious lead to follow. Answers are waiting for us somewhere in cyberspace. Trust me on this.”

“Of course I do.”

His hand stilled on her back. “Good.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Keep it up.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt. They both knew he wasn’t speaking of Abby’s case. He held her gaze as Tucker’s computer made a pinging noise, alerting them to a new e-mail.

“From Ethan,” Tucker said. “He sent us—well, son of a fucking… Take a look at this.” Tucker turned the laptop. The grainy image Jackson had snapped of the man dancing with the underage girl at Club Jericho had been cleaned up and filled the left side of Tucker’s screen. Another cropped photograph of the same black-haired, brown-eyed man filled the right side.

“Bingo,” Jackson muttered. He read aloud the small caption attached at the bottom. “This is Tim Monroe. He’s a freelance fashion photographer with numerous connections in the modeling industry. According to Ethan, Tim and Renzo’s names overlapped on several different occasions—they worked several of the same runway shows, snapped photos at many of the same shoots. Oh, and isn’t this interesting. He also has a profile on Baltimore Dates. This is the picture on the right.” He flicked his finger toward the screen. “Of course, Ethan couldn’t find anything overly alarming in his interactions with women eighteen years of age or older, except on more than one occasion he’s checked out the foreigners Canon’s taskforce keeps an eye on.” He looked at Tucker.

Alex leaned closer to the laptop, studying Ethan’s latest e-mail. “What does this mean exactly?”

“It means we’ve got a few big coincidences here. Tim Monroe has an eye for young girls and foreign women,
and
he has a connection to Renzo. He also has a connection to the same dating website Kristen was affiliated with. Ethan’s going to have to do some more work.”

Alex stood straight. “Is Tim Monroe the one who was corresponding with Kristen?”

“We can’t be sure. Monroe’s profile name is PhotoShop, but the person who potentially lured and arranged Kristen’s disappearance is Crazy80.”

“Then how can you say this is connected? What if Tim Monroe just happens to have a profile on Baltimore Dates? Baltimore is a large city; it’s not that hard to fathom. Many singles look for love online.”

“True, but not all singles are professionally connected to a man who was dating your sister just a few weeks before she disappeared. And how many do you think go to clubs to flirt with young girls when there are literally hundreds of legal adults surrounding them. If Monroe is looking for love, he isn’t looking in the right places—unless he’s a trafficker.” Jackson’s excitement built as he glanced from Alex to Tucker. This was going to be their big break. “I’m willing to bet my house that Tim and Renzo have something to do with Abby and Kristen’s disappearance.”

“Then let’s call Detective Canon.” Alex reached for the landline.

Jackson settled his hand on top of hers, holding the receiver in place. “Not yet. Give us some time to toss this around.”

“We’re
wasting
time by ‘tossing this around.’ You’re theory makes perfect sense.”

“I’m with Jackson on this one,” Tucker supplied. “I don’t see dissecting the angles as wasting time. The taskforce would definitely check out what we pass along, but unless they find a solid connection between Cruz, Monroe, and Zachary Hartwell, they’re not going to touch it. Plus, Canon will just get bitchy knowing we still have our noses in on this when he’s told Jackson to back off. Cops are real bastards that way.”

Temper darkened Alex’s blue eyes. “Well that’s unacceptable. This isn’t a game of yours or mine. My sister is suffering.”

Jackson pulled her rigid hand from the phone and held it in his. “Now that we have something absolutely solid… We won’t give up until Abby’s home, Alex. I promise.” He gave her icy fingers a gentle squeeze. “Tucker’s going to call one of his former co-workers, a detective with LAPD, and ask her if she’s willing to be our decoy—off the record.”

“Decoy?”

“Yeah, you know, set up an account on Baltimore Dates and pose as a young woman traffickers would find interesting.”

“I’ll do it.”

He could only stare as Alex’s words froze his heart. “No.”

“Yes.” She yanked her hand from his grip. “This is a great idea.”

“Forget it. Absolutely not.” His heart now shuddered as trickles of unease grew to full bloom.

“Tucker’s friend lives in LA. I’m right here. I want to do this for Abby.”

“Melinda’s a cop, Alex,” Tucker interjected. “She does decoy work all the time.”

“Melinda’s sister isn’t missing.” She seared Tucker with a look.

“Drop it,” Jackson snapped, recognizing the unshakable determination in Alex’s voice. “We’re wasting time arguing about something that isn’t an option.”

“Why?” She focused her frosty stare on him. “Because you say so.”

“Damn straight. Case closed.”

“But Abby’s isn’t.”

“We won’t get to the bottom of her disappearance any faster if we have to worry about your safety too. You’re staying out of this. Tucker, call Melinda.”

Alex held Jackson’s gaze a moment longer, and then walked out.

Jackson stared down the hall while Tucker spoke to Melinda, feeling no better about the situation. Alex had let that go too easily, much like she did the night she’d convinced him to bring her to the clubs. There was no way in hell she was changing his mind this time. One wrong move is all it would take for Alex to find herself in as much trouble as Abby or Kristen Moore.

Laughter and noise from the barbeque flowed through the open windows as Alexa shut the office door behind her. She leaned back against the dark, glossy wood, swallowing the vile taste of deception as she stared at Tucker’s laptop and the small stack of papers beside it. Sighing, she closed her eyes. She
hated
what she was about to do, but she couldn’t think of another way. God knows she tried while she nibbled BBQ chicken and mingled with guests in Jack’s parents’ backyard, but nothing had come to mind. Jack had left her little choice when he said no earlier this morning. No wasn’t an option she could live with. Abby was lost out there. If this could bring her home...

She stood straight, huffing out a breath. She was wasting time. Who knew how long it would be before Tucker or Jack came up to check in with Ethan again? Alexa shoved away her regret as she walked toward George’s beautiful antique desk, watching the breeze catch the edges of the printouts she intended to study.
This is for Abby,
she reminded herself when her pulse kicked into high gear. She licked her dry lips, knowing that once she started the wheels turning, there would be no going back.

She reached for the papers but jerked her hand away, standing perfectly still, as footsteps echoed on the stairs. Her breath came faster, and she glanced over her shoulder, staring at the doorknob, waiting for someone to enter. What would she say? She had no reason for being in George’s office. Tucker or Jack would more than likely see through her phony explanations—her lies. Surely that was what she was doing—telling lies. She pressed a hand to her queasy stomach, struggling to ignore her guilty conscience, as whoever had come up the stairs went back down.