Dash grinned at the judicious way Cannon phrased that. “Meaning they’ve been in and out of trouble with juvie?”

“Minor stuff,” Cannon defended. “Stealing beer, fighting, skipping school. That sort of thing.”

Perspectives, Dash thought. If he’d have tried any of that, his parents would have grounded him for eternity. But then, he’d had everything given to him. He had no reason to search for escapes, not when his life had been golden.

How had Margo’s life been growing up, especially given her folks hadn’t wanted a daughter...ever?

“I understand,” she said to Cannon. “I’m not looking to go after any kids. Just tell me what they know.”

“First, I need your assurance they won’t be drawn into anything. I don’t want them in danger just because they tried to do the right thing.”

“You have my word.”

Her word must’ve been good enough, because Cannon did finally relax. “I fudged things a bit, saying you and I are friends and that I was worried about you after the wreck. I mean, most of these kids are at best suspicious of the law, at worst, scared to death of anyone official. If you weren’t a personal friend to me, they wouldn’t give two thoughts to what happened to a cop.”

“Understood.” She smiled at him. “And I like to think we are friends.”

Despite the assurances he’d just given himself, Dash went on the alert—until Logan “accidentally” thumped his ear while stepping forward. “Promises aside, it’s possible Reese and I might need to talk to the boys. Will that be a problem?”

“Not as long as you make it low-key, keep it quiet and take it easy on them. They’re tough little nuts—but they’ve been through enough.” Cannon nodded at Reese. “I know you understand.”

Because he’d adopted Marcus, Reese had firsthand experience with troubled kids. “Only too well.”

Margo stepped away from her desk. To Dash, she seemed antsy—or sore. “Both of my detectives are great in dealing with kids. Rest easy on that.”

“Thanks.” Cannon glanced at Dash, cleared his throat, rubbed his chin. “There’s a hit out on you. Apparently the bastards that want you dead have offered up a grand to anyone who can make it happen.”

Even though Cannon had already told him, Dash still reacted. The urge to hold her, to somehow shield her, crashed through him.

Unfazed, Margo asked, “How are they to collect?”

Jesus, Dash thought. She took that without a single flinch of emotion. But then, neither Reese nor Logan looked all that shook up about it, either.

“Once the deed is done, they’re to spread the word on the street. The right goons will find out and be in touch. That’s all I know.”

Reese frowned thoughtfully. “How did the kids know this? Where did they hear it?”

“They were approached on the street. Because of the snow they were off school, hanging out front of a liquor store, and a car pulled up and called them over. There were six of them in the group, but I don’t know the other boys.” Cannon pulled out a photocopied news article with Margo’s face shown. “They were given this, so they’d know for sure who you are.”

Reese took it from him, holding it so Margo could see, too. “This is the write-up when you made lieutenant.”

She barely gave it a glance. “What liquor store?”

Cannon shared the info and Logan wrote it down.

“There’s more,” Cannon warned them.

Knowing it all had to be shared, Dash’s curled his hands into fists.

“The thing is...” Cannon cleared his throat. “If they take you alive, the price jumps up to five grand.”

“Alive?” Logan asked.

“So that...” Cannon worked his jaw. “So that she can be used.”

Hearing it again ramped up Dash’s killing mood. No way would he let anyone hurt her, but he was counting on his brother to find the men, and to put them away for good.

Reese no longer looked so relaxed. “Did the kids give you a description?”

“Older—which could mean just about anything since they’re kids. The driver had dark hair and a goatee. The passenger was big and bald. There was a third man in the backseat, but they didn’t get a good look at him.”

“The car?” Logan asked.

“Black sedan. That’s all they noticed.” He cleared his throat again. “They gave me something, though.”

Everyone waited.

Cannon reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “It’s...well, a video. Explicit stuff. Not something the boys should have seen.”

Logan started to reach for it, but Margo took it instead. On the way to her desk, she asked, “You watched it already?”

More uneasy by the second, Cannon nodded. “I don’t know if it’s acting or real. A naked woman tied to a display case, two guys...” Revulsion roughened his voice, and he gestured. “You get the idea. The woman is drugged I think. At least she looked it to me.”

Logan cursed. Reese growled.

“The driver gave it to the kids as...prepayment for helping out. Told them they’d like it and there was more where that came from.”

Margo reached her computer and inserted the flash drive. When no one joined her, she scowled. “Well? You have to see it whether you want to or not. It’s evidence. There could be a clue here.”

Cannon came to his feet but turned away. Dash was the first to reach Margo, not because he wanted to watch, but because he insisted on being by her side.

Reese and Logan, their moods thunderous, flanked them.

Logan said, “We could watch this later—”

“Now,” Margo said.

“I’m not a meek schoolboy,” Reese told her. “But this is awkward.”

“Grow a pair, why don’t you?” The file loaded and, with only a heartbeat of hesitation, she clicked it to play, straightened and waited.

More than ever, Dash wanted to put his arm around her, to offer support in any way she needed. She was so damned indifferent, so distant and contained that it bothered him on an elemental level.

At the same time, he accepted that this was her job, that she was good at it. Seeing her like this filled him with pride.

So he stayed silent...but close.

Cannon remained well out of the viewing area, his face averted, his body set in angry lines of disgust.

If it weren’t for the possibility of it being, as Cannon had said, “real,” it would have been regular, poor-quality, run-of-the-mill porn. But they all knew that rather than being an actor, the woman in the film could be a victim, and that not only kept it from being sexually exciting, but it also made it revolting and enraging.

“All we’re getting is the back view of the bastards,” Reese said, “but one has dark hair and the other is—”

“Bald,” Logan finished. “Could be the same guys the boys spoke with.”

Quietly, above the sounds of bodies slapping together and the woman’s faint moans, Cannon said, “I think I recognize the place.”

Logan looked up. “It’s a business?”

“Local. A family-run pawnshop.”

“Pawnshop?” Logan gave his attention back to the video, his brow knit as he studied the scene.

Dash looked, too. “That’s a display case,” he pointed out, referring to the image to the right. “I see watches, rings, bracelets.”

“And behind that are some older guns and knives.” Logan searched the scenery as the men continued with their sexual escapades. “Damn. I think you’re right, Cannon.”

“I went by there before coming here, but it’s closed up. I don’t know why. Usually Tipton Sweeny, the guy who runs it, is there from sunup to sundown. His granddaughter, Yvette, helps out but I didn’t see her, either.”

Everyone looked at Cannon. Margo spoke first. “Do you think it’s her in the video?”

He shook his head. “It’s not.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Yvette just graduated last summer. She’s small, with a different build. Just turned nineteen, I think. That woman is older and heavier than Yvette.”

Margo glanced at the images again. “You can’t see her face very well, and the guys are mostly covering her body—”

“Still,” Logan confirmed, “she’s definitely older. I’d say late twenties.”

Peeved, Margo started to argue.

“She doesn’t have the figure of a kid,” Dash explained. As a woman, Margo might not see the nuances and probably didn’t have the same perception of the female body. “No one can be certain, especially with the light so dim, but Logan’s right. It’s a good guess that she’s older. I’d say even early thirties.”

Reese concurred. “Somewhere in there.”

Bracing her hand on the desk, Margo leaned in for a closer look—then used the mouse to pause the screen so she could study it in more minute detail.

Recognizing her in cop mode, Reese and Logan went on the alert, too.

“You see something?” Logan asked, crowding in closer and shouldering Dash aside.

Reese, being so big, looked over their shoulders.

“There.” Margo pointed to the glass front on a large display case. “A reflection.”

In a rush, Cannon came around the desk to join them.

Dash stepped farther back, giving them all room. “Do you recognize him, Cannon?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Hard to tell with the image so blurred.” He leaned in. “He’s white, though. Wearing glasses.”

“I can see that the prick is smiling,” Reese growled.

“Smug.” Logan studied the image. “Light-colored hair. Polo shirt or some other casual button-up collared shirt. He looks heavy.”

“Could be our man from the backseat.” Margo looked at each man. “Maybe the one in charge.”

Cannon stepped away. “I can ask around, see if the description rings any bells.”

“Discreetly,” Margo warned. “We don’t want the public stalking all the overweight, blond, spectacle-wearing men in the area.”

Cannon nodded. “I can be discreet, no worries.”

“In the meantime...” Margo pushed a notepad forward. “Write down the address of the pawnshop.”

He accepted the pen she offered. “I have their home address, too, if you want it.” Worry kept his voice tight. “No one is there, either—I already checked.”

Jesus. Dash hoped a nineteen-year-old girl wasn’t caught up in this mess.

“Got a phone number?” Margo asked as Cannon jotted on the paper.

“No, sorry.”

“It’s all right. You’ve been a huge help.” Taking the notepad from him, Margo started out around her desk. “I’ll check it out and—”

“No.” Reese stood in front of the door, cautiously barring the way. “All respect, Lieutenant, it’ll be better if Logan and I go.”

To Dash’s surprise, she didn’t argue. Rubbing her forehead, her frustration palpable, she nodded. “Yes, of course, you’re right.”

Logan took the notepad from her. “We’ll report back as soon as we know something.”

Cannon turned to the detectives. “Mind if I go along? I’m...worried.”

“Sure.” Reese held the door open for him. “Long as Logan doesn’t object, I don’t mind if you show us the way.”

“Why not.” Mockery twisted Logan’s mouth; they damn well didn’t need a guide. “You know their routine and we don’t. Can’t hurt to have you along.”

Once everyone was out the door, Margo looked toward Dash. He saw the dark thoughts reflected in her blue eyes; he knew exactly what she was thinking...and why.

He wanted to reassure her. It ate at him, the need to gather her close and offer comfort. With any other woman he wouldn’t have hesitated. But this was Margo, a woman so extraordinary that she’d become the youngest female lieutenant in the city’s history. So he held himself still, unsure of the right move for a woman like her, in her position, with her injuries—

“God, this is so frustrating,” she growled, and then she took the steps necessary to come up against to him, to lean on him.

She trusted him.

Staggered but inordinately pleased, Dash slowly put his arms around her, holding her closer as he weighed the significance of the moment. “What can I do?”

“There’s nothing.”

A world of difference existed between playing games with a man of her choosing—him—and a victim being forced into an abusive situation by rapists.

But Dash suspected that didn’t stop her from reacting to the similarities.

“Margo.” His mouth brushed her temple. “I want to help.”

She pushed back a little to see him. “You already are. Being here. Understanding.”

Because it was so important, because he wanted her to acknowledge it, he asked, “Not interfering?”

“That, too.” The weight of her responsibility reflected in her blue eyes and still she teased him. “I appreciate your restraint.”