Her Dark Web Defender. Dana Nussio

      A knock on the outside of his cubicle brought Tony’s head around with a jerk that made his neck ache. His vision was already blurry from hours of fruitless searches through some of the more popular Dark Web sites. He’d buried himself in his work to get that earlier conversation with Kelly out of his thoughts, and he’d almost succeeded. Until now.

      The woman he’d been trying not to think about stepped into the doorway, her hands shoved into her uniform pockets.

      “May I help you?”

      He was proud of himself that he’d sounded almost civil, especially when he’d hoped not to have to face her again for the rest of the day.

      “Sorry to interrupt you, but—”

      “But you’re finished reading about all the other cases that aren’t the one we’re investigating?” So much for being nice.

      She frowned. “I have finished that, but Special Agent Dawson wants me to observe you putting out regular text communication in the chat rooms.”

      “Why? Haven’t you ever done a chat before?”

      “As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

      His next brusque comment died on his lips. Why couldn’t he stop baiting her? She was doing her job, just as he was trying to do.

      “Fine.”

      He gestured toward his guest chair though the last thing he needed was to be close to her again. He’d been trying to get the scent of her shampoo—light, flowery and carefree—out of his head all afternoon.

      “How about instead of observing, we give you a chance to practice? I’ll make my comments verbally, and you can type your responses on my keyboard.”

      “Sounds okay.”

      He stood and slid by her to grab the seat she’d used earlier. She took his place in front of a blank word-processing document.

      “Would your friends say you’re pretty?” he asked.

      She blinked several times. He had to hold back a smile. Of course, they would. Not to say so would have made them liars.

      Finally, she started typing.

      I don’t know. I guess so. They probably would say I have a cute face.

      “Are you trying to say you’re a bigger person? Would anyone say that about you?” he asked.

      I’m bigger than some of my friends, I guess.

      He had to remind himself that she was creating a fictional character since the woman sitting next to him looked perfect to him. Too perfect.

      “You’re probably just curvier. They’re jealous,” he managed to say.

      How can you say that? You haven’t even seen me.

      “We could fix that. You could send me a picture. I’m already sure you’re real pretty.”

      But I hate my braces.

      At the second reminder that their conversation had been only role playing, he sat taller in his seat. He’d given her easy questions, and he couldn’t explain why. Was it because of that compassion in her eyes after he’d explained the photos on his board? Did he believe she was too tender-hearted for this work and felt compelled to shield her? What business did he have trying to protect anyone from this world when he hadn’t been able to shelter himself?

      Instead of continuing the mock conversation, he reached for the keyboard and slowly pulled it to him.

      “Why are you doing that?”

      “You’ll do fine. You’re a natural. At least for the easy stuff.”

      “I really was a thirteen-year-old girl once. An awkward, misunderstood and, yes, larger teenager. I was in the public speaking club. Not the cheerleading squad.”

      She’d surprised him. People rarely did that anymore. Kelly Roberts wasn’t who he’d expected her to be, from her biography or from her knockout good looks. He knew better than to prejudge people, anyway. That was how the wolves fit in among the unsuspecting sheep in their investigations.

      “Some things happened, and I ate for comfort and gained some weight,” she added when he didn’t respond right away.

      “Looks like you figured things out.” Immediately, he wanted to take that back. It sounded as if he’d been watching her, and he had. Now they both knew it.

      She cleared her throat and pointed to the screen again. “If the conversations online are like that, they sound so benign.”

      Relieved that she’d redirected the conversation back to their work, where it belonged, Tony went with it.

      “They start that way, but they can escalate quickly. A chat where a guy tells his victim that he understands why she’s mad at her parents over her curfew quickly turns to demands for intimate photos.”

      “That’s awful.”

      “That doesn’t begin to cover how bad it gets. How are you going to be able to handle—”

      “I meant for you.”

      He came to his feet as if something had pushed him out of the chair, and he moved to the doorway of his own cubicle. Just like earlier, her compassion for him unsettled him. Why was she being so kind when he’d been rude to her? Worse than that, he was beginning to like her. He wasn’t there to make friends. He had to finish the case so he could be transferred. He needed to remember that.

      “I mean you have to read and listen to this stuff every day,” she continued, as if she realized she’d struck a nerve. “How do you bear it? Do you turn it off when you get home?”

      “It’s my job.”

      He would’ve said it was as simple as that, but nothing about his decision to leave the task force had been simple. Could he really desert the vulnerable people he helped, and if he could, what kind of agent was he? What kind of human being?

      “And mine,” she said with a nod. “Do you really think our victims were communicating online with their killer?”

      “Possibly. But they were connecting with a few different people, so someone might know something.”

      She stood up from his desk. “I’m ready to do my part to help find Sienna and Madison’s killer or killers. I’ve already said this case is personal for me.”

      “You need to stop telling people that, or you won’t get to stay on the case.” He still didn’t buy the reason she’d said it was important to her, but he didn’t tell her that. “If you can’t separate yourself from it, you won’t be of any help to us.”

      “I can. Separate myself, that is.”

      “We’ll see.”

      Kelly scooted behind him and started back to her own desk. He stood at the doorway, watching her. Near the nameplate that had been added to the bracket outside her cubicle wall, she stopped.

      “And Agent Lazzaro, thanks for all your help.”

      “Don’t