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where she lives.”
    “Then you were right. She lives in the city.”
    “Lives, or perhaps works.” Matthias searched the faces of the pedestrians walking on either side of the street before he spotted the woman standing at a corner and holding her hand in the air. “She came by taxi.”
    “Smart lady. No car, no license plate we can use to trace her identity. Do you think she suspects that someone is looking for her?”
    “She would not stay here if she did.” Matthias kept one hand on the wheel and used the other to lift his camera to his face. He was able to snap three profile shots as the woman entered the taxi that had stopped for her. “Find out what you can. I will call you later.”
    “Good hunting, boss.”
    Matthias noted the number and license plate of the cab before he pressed the number one on his phone.
    “Hit me,” Rowan’s cool young voice said.
    He gave her the numbers along with the company name stenciled on the side of the taxi. “The driver took her from the street at one thirty-three.”
    “He picked her up at one thirty-three,” she corrected him. “Kidnappers like us take people. Cabbies pick them up.”
    The subtle and sometimes maddening intricacies of American language still challenged him. “But he does not lift her. He takes her to her destination.”
    “To pick up can mean lifting a person, seducing a person, or giving them a ride in a vehicle.”
    “Seducing.” He didn’t know the woman yet, but the idea of her giving herself to anyone did not sit well with him. “You are certain of this?”
    “It’s my language, pal,” Rowan reminded him. “Drew’s faxing a bunch of police reports. You think she’s the one who’s been tipping off the feds?”
    Her scent still lingered in his head and chest, a silent waterfall. “I know she is.”
    Rowan’s tone changed. “Then you should take her as soon as possible.”



Chapter 2
    Jonah Genaro rolled away from the thin, damp body of his mistress, left the bed they had shared for the last hour, and pulled on his trousers.
    Lorraine propped her head on her arm and watched him take a clean, pressed black shirt from the supply he kept in the closet. “I thought you were going to stay awhile.”
    “I have another appointment.” He picked up his wallet and watch from her vanity table. Twenty years ago he would have left a handful of bills behind, but today he preferred the convenience of a rechargeable credit card. “The next few weeks will be busy for me. I won’t have time to see you again until the end of November.”
    “You can’t leave yet.” Lorraine climbed out of bed, wrapping herself in a yellow silk robe before she shook out her hair. She’d stopped bleaching six months ago, at Genaro’s request, and now had it dyed to match the dark roots as they grew out. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
    Genaro knotted his tie. “I’ll call you next week and then we’ll talk.”
    “This can’t wait that long.” She came around to stand in front of him, holding her hands together like a remorseful schoolgirl. “Jonah, I’ve been to see my doctor. He did some tests, and, well, we’re going to have a baby.”
    Genaro’s hand went still for a second, and then slid the knot of his tie up under the edges of his collar. “You’re telling me that you’re pregnant?”
    “I didn’t realize at first.” She released a pretty, helpless laugh. “I skip my periods all the time, and then I am on the pill, too, so it never occurred to me that I could be. I never miss them, but the doctor said sometimes in rare cases they don’t work.”
    The schoolgirl quality of her confession didn’t diminish the relief Genaro felt. Lorraine had been enthusiastic, and even occasionally entertaining, but his desire for her had begun to fade. This extortion attempt would allow him to get rid of her without the usual tears, recriminations, and final lump-sum payoff. “I presume you don’t want to have an abortion.”
    “I