Hearts and Aces (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 7)

by Kaylie Hunter

  “Drive safe. She’ll be there when you get there. Blake will stay with her until then. He’ll protect her.”

  “Thank you,” she said, crying as she hung up.

  Hearing someone behind me, I turned to see Bridget and Beth.

  “That must have felt good,” Beth said, walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder.

  “It did,” I agreed. “It’s not often we get a win like today.”

  “I’m taking the credit for this one,” Tech said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. “You didn’t want to even look at the case.”

  “You’re right. It read on paper like a few others I haven’t solved,” I said, nodding toward the missing prostitute files. “The unsolved cases haunt me.”

  “That’s not the ending this time, though.” Bridget set a fabric tote on top of the table. “We brought you guys a celebratory present.” She pulled a six pack of beer out of the tote.

  “What if the case had turned sideways?” I asked.

  “Then the beer would’ve gone well with the box of tissues.” Bridget pulled a box of tissues from the tote and tossed the box at me. I caught the box, tossing it on top of the credenza.

  Tech opened several beers, passing them around. “I’d say we did pretty good for a Tuesday afternoon. I’m all for quitting early.”

  I glanced at the clock, realizing it was only three, and sighed before taking a long drink of my beer. “You can call it a day. I’m too far behind.”

  “I figured you’d say that,” Bridget said, pulling another six pack from the tote. “At least we won’t be thirsty while we work.”

  Tech laughed. “What the hell. I’ll keep going as long as I can drink.”

  “There’s the spirit,” I said, slugging him in the shoulder. “Bridget, where are we at on the jewel thief?”

  “I’m in love. Don’t tell Bones,” Bridget said, sliding a file to me. “The bastard only robs people who deserve it. He or she steals their victim’s most expensive piece of art or jewelry, usually during a social event, then he or she disappears.”

  “Who’s offering the reward money?”

  “Four of the victims pooled their money for the reward,” Beth said. “They know each other. All four are members of a prestigious yacht club in California.”

  “Have any of the stolen items turned up on the black market?”

  “Not that Carl could find,” Bridget said, shaking her head.

  “What’s your theory?” I asked her.

  Bridget smirked. “I find it strange that four of the nine victims know each other. Especially when two of the four have houses on the east coast, and the other two reside on the west coast.”

  “I have houses scattered across the country,” I said. “I might even know one of the victims.”

  “You do, actually,” Tech said.

  “Who?”

  “Mark Farlow.”

  I cycled the name through my brain a few times until the light bulb came on. “The creeper in South Carolina who was stalking that waitress?”

  Tech nodded. “The charges never stuck. He was released, agreeing to stay away from the waitress. She filed a lawsuit, but I heard they settled out of court.”

  “She went through hell because of that guy. I hope she walked away with a fortune.”

  Bridget’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Even if she didn’t, he lost big time, that’s for sure. The thief stole a Picasso painting valued at over twenty-two million.”

  “He would’ve had it insured. There’s no big punishment for him in that.”

  “That’s where it gets interesting,” Beth said. “All the victims had lapses in their insurance coverage when the thefts occurred.”

  Tech and I glanced at each other before leaning forward in our chairs.

  Bridget and Beth shared a conspiratorial grin before Bridget explained. “Apparently, each victim cancelled their insurance policies a few days before the robberies.”

  I whistled slowly. “Which they never did. Whoever our thief is, he didn’t want them to collect the insurance claim.”

  “Exactly,” Bridget said. “The big question is, how would the thief know their insurance information?”

  “Same insurance company?” I asked.

  Bridget shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Hacker?” Tech asked.

  “Doubtful,” Beth said. “The policies were all cancelled by letters sent in advance to the insurance companies. A hacker would’ve cancelled the policies electronically.”

  I tapped my pen against the table. “If my agent got a letter from me saying to cancel my coverage, he’d better damn well call me.”

  “Maybe the agents didn’t know, since the policies were cancelled at the corporate offices,” Bridget said.

  “That’s a theory we can check on,” I said. “Until then, let’s keep going. Are all the victims sex offenders of some kind?”

  “No,” Bridget said. “But they’re all assholes. We have one stalker, four suspected rapists, two embezzlers, one murderer, and a fucking pedophile.”

  I could feel my eyebrows rise. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m serious. The disgusting part is they’re all rich enough to have wormed their way out of the charges.”

  “Or,” Beth said, “they were sentenced to something ridiculous like a five-figure fine or house arrest.”

  “Even the pedophile?” Tech asked.

  “Roaming free,” Bridget said, nodding.

  We were all quiet, thinking as we drank our beer.

  There was a knock on the door, and Tech got up to answer it. On the other side of the door, Tyler stood grinning at us.

  “Problem?” I asked.

  “Nope,” he said, shaking his head and walking into the room. “I couldn’t remember the code to your war room, though. Between the houses and the store, I have too many security codes in my head.” He helped himself to a beer and sat in the end chair. “I’m calling it a day. I’ve got two guys from Devil’s Players and two guys from Demon Slayers monitoring your house.”

  “If you called in the Slayers, you must be screwing with James,” I said, grinning.

  Tyler shrugged, the corner of his lips turning up. “I thought it was time he understood security was my gig.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Why does everyone look so serious?” Tyler asked. “I heard you solved a cold case today.”

  “We did,” Tech said. “Bridget and Beth just filled us in on their case. It’s, uh, unusual.”

  “How so?”

  “We’re rooting for the bad guy,” Beth said, laughing. “The people he’s screwing with totally deserve it.”

  “Simple then,” Tyler said. “Just don’t solve the case.”

  “It’s a million-dollar reward,” Bridget said.

  Tyler shook his head. “You can’t look at it that way. We break the law all the time to capture the bad guys or protect our family and friends. We do it because we’re on the right side. Stay on the right side. Find another case.”

  “I agree,” I said, closing the file. “The reward money doesn’t justify punishing the only person who is holding those asshats accountable for their actions.”

  “What about the bet with Donovan?” Tech asked.

  “There’s no actual prize other than bragging rights. If we don’t beat him in profits this year, we’ll take him down next year. I’m not willing to risk my morals to knock Donovan down a few pegs.”

  “The year’s not over yet,” Bridget said. “Let’s find another case.”

  “Hang on,” Tech said, typing on his computer. “Kemp’s been organizing the case requests. I’ll have him bring us a summary.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You could pick up the phone, or heaven forbid, walk down the hall to talk to him.”

  “Typing is faster,” Tech said.

  Tyler walked over and held the door open.

  Kemp walked through it twenty seconds later, carrying a stack of papers an
d a large folder. “I have the case file list, along with summaries including locations, general backgrounds, and payment details,” Kemp said, handing Tech several sheets of paper. “I also have the invoices to be billed. If you can review them,” Kemp handed me a thick folder with at least fifty invoices, “I’ll get them in the mail today.”

  “Damn. If our billing is this far behind maybe we can still beat Donovan this year.”

  “I couldn’t have been that far behind,” Tech said, shaking his head.

  “Afraid so,” Kemp said. “I reconciled the invoices against the prior payments, just to make sure we didn’t double bill anyone.”

  “My bad,” Tech said, laughing. “And look at this. There are nine other cases with payouts of over a quarter of a million.”

  “Let’s get to work then,” Tyler said.

  “I thought you were going home,” I said.

  “James isn’t the only one who needs to learn I work for you. Donovan’s about to realize it, too.”

  “Go Team Kelsey!” Bridget said, standing to high five each of us.

  “You’re all crazy,” Beth said as she pulled a laptop toward her. “But send me a file.”

  Kemp assigned files out electronically. He offered to help Tech research leads as needed.

  “Bridget?” I asked.

  “Yeah?” she answered, not looking up from her laptop.

  “Now that we’ve agreed not to take the case, who’s the thief?”

  She glanced up at me. “You mean, thieves.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I connected five teenagers who are either family members or close friends of the families who were burglarized. My guess is they’re throwing the art and jewels into the ocean. Never mess with a pissed off teenager.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I said, laughing as I turned back to the file of invoices.

  Chapter Eight

  We were two hours into research when Trigger walked into the war room. “We dumped Reggie in the gym. We didn’t know what you wanted us to do with him.”

  I went out and looked over the rail to the gym below. Reggie was sprawled out on the plank floor, sound asleep. Returning to the war room, I grabbed a pile of permanent markers from the credenza before going back to the walkway and whistling. Several guards, including Wayne, jogged over. I tossed the markers down. “Do me a favor and teach Reggie a lesson.”

  The guys laughed as they uncapped the markers. I went back to the war room and saved my work. “It’s time to call it a day. I need to get home before Nicholas starts calling me every five minutes.”

  “Whose night is it to cook?” Tech asked, standing and stretching.

  “It was mine, but Hattie texted that she had it handled. Tweedle was helping her.”

  “I’m inviting myself to dinner,” Beth said. “I was supposed to go grocery shopping today.”

  “You’re learning,” Bridget said, smirking at Beth. “And you’re in luck. Hattie said tacos were on the menu tonight.”

  “Yum,” Tech said, rubbing his stomach. “I haven’t had tacos in ages.”

  I shook my head at Tech before looking back to Beth. “What about your dog, Storm?”

  “I have time to take him to the park before I swing back.”

  “Bring him to the house. Nicholas has been begging me to get a dog, and I’ve been stalling. He can toss a ball for him in the field after dinner.”

  “You sure? He’s a great dog, but he’s a German Shepherd. He’ll shed all over your carpet.”

  “As long as he doesn’t pee on it, I’m good. Seriously, bring him over. I’ll bet he’s just as sick of your apartment as you are.”

  “Actually, I was going to ask if I could bring him a few times a week to school. He’s trained and will stay on his dog bed while I teach.”

  “As long as he minds you, I’m fine with it.”

  ~*~*~

  After dinner, Nicholas and Sara played with Storm until we called them in to get ready for bed. Anne led Sara upstairs, and I nudged Nicholas down the hall and into the bathroom.

  “I want to see you scrub those teeth, young man,” I said, grinning at him in the mirror. “All of them. Not just the front ones.”

  “I will.”

  “I know you will, because I’m going to watch to make sure you do.”

  Nicholas watched me in the mirror as he coated his toothbrush with toothpaste. While he brushed, I exchanged his hand towel for a clean one. An empty roll hung on the toilet paper rack with a partial roll sitting on top of the sink. Nicholas giggled as I swapped the rolls.

  “Don’t forget to brush the roof of your mouth and tongue,” I reminded him.

  He rolled his eyes, but did as I asked. When he was done brushing, I stopped him from wiping his mouth on his sleeve and handed him a tissue. He laughed, wiping his mouth and tossing the tissue toward the trash before running into his bedroom. He had missed, though. I stood staring at the tissue lying on the floor. I knew I should call him back into the bathroom, but he was already putting on his pajamas. I decided it wasn’t worth delaying bedtime and starting a fight.

  After throwing the tissue away, I rinsed the spit from the sink, shaking my head. Nine-year-old boys were slobs. Turning the bathroom light off, I crossed the hall into Nicholas’ room. He was already climbing into bed.

  “Young man,” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “You have a hamper for your dirty clothes.”

  “It’s okay. Eloise picks them up when she cleans. She’ll make my bed, too. It’s kind of cool.”

  Based on a recommendation from Nightcrawler, I’d hired Eloise a few weeks back to clean the houses and Headquarters. She was shy and usually cleaned when the fewest number of people were around. Though we seldom saw her, we always knew she’d cleaned because she left everything in five-star condition.

  “It’s not Eloise’s job to clean up after you.”

  “You hired her to clean. That is too her job.”

  “Nicholas, get out of bed and pick up your clothes!”

  “Fine,” he said, sighing dramatically as he threw the covers away from him and stood. He made a production of stomping around the room and throwing his clothes toward the hamper. Half of them missed. I stopped him from climbing back into bed and turned him back toward the hamper.

  “You’re in a bad mood.” He stomped back, jamming the clothes deep into the hamper.

  “When I see my son taking advantage of people, yes, it puts me in a bad mood.”

  “Can I go to bed now?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at me.

  “You really want to play this game?”

  He turned his glare toward the wall but didn’t answer.

  “Fine. To bed then.” I waved a hand toward his bed and he stomped over, throwing himself in and turning his back toward me.

  “I take it you don’t want to read with me tonight?”

  Silence.

  “That’s your choice. From now on though, you clean your own room. Which includes making your bed.” I leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “And remember, I love you even when you’re behaving like a spoiled snot.”

  I tousled his hair, but he jerked away from me. Sighing, I left the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Back in the dining room, I picked up my phone and called Eloise.

  “Hello,” Eloise answered in a quiet voice.

  “Hi, Eloise. It’s Kelsey. Sorry to call you after hours. Do you have a minute?”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Not at all. I’m actually calling because you are doing too good of a job.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My son. He’s turning into a spoiled brat. I need you to stop cleaning his room for him.”

  “Sara’s too!” Anne said, coming down the stairs.

  “Anne’s saying to stop cleaning Sara’s, too. We need the kids to learn to take care of themselves.”

  “What about vacuuming? And dusting? And making the beds?” Eloise asked.
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  “They’re old enough to make their own beds. If their rooms are clean, I don’t mind you vacuuming the floor on occasion or washing the windows, but their clothes, toys, trash, bedding—that’s their job.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m very sure. And if you notice the kids leaving messes for you to clean up, let one of us know. We’ll handle it.”

  “I don’t want to get them in trouble. They’re nice kids.”

  “But?”

  “Nicholas needs to work on his aim when using the bathroom,” she said, giggling. “And Sara spills pop in her room and lets it dry and get gummy.”

  “I’m pretty sure Anne isn’t aware that Sara is drinking pop, let alone spilling it in her room. As for Nicholas’ aiming habits, I’ll ask one of the guys to have a talk with him. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have him start cleaning all the toilets until he learns.”

  “You are a good mom, Kelsey.”

  “I’m glad someone thinks so.” We ended the call, and I laughed at Anne’s scowl.

  “Where is she getting pop?”

  “Likely the basement refrigerator. We keep some down there for company and mixed drinks.”

  “Grr…” Anne walked back up the stairs.

  I looked around the room. If Grady were home, he’d talk to Nicholas about the peeing thing. It certainly wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. I’d likely be farming out a few other conversations in the years to come, too.

  Whiskey, Tech, and Tyler sat around the table, smirking at me.

  “Who’s willing?”

  “I would, but I’ll laugh the whole time,” Tech admitted.

  “I’ll take this one,” Tyler said, standing. “As a prospect for the club, I’ve cleaned enough toilets to explain why it’s not cool.”

  My cell phone, still in my hand, rang. I answered it, seeing it was Grady. “Hey, sexy,” I said, moving into the living room for privacy.

  “Hey, beautiful. You sound like you’re in a good mood.”

  “Not according to Nick.”

  Grady chuckled. “His opinion doesn’t count. He’s mad at me all the time these days.”

  “Well, consider it your lucky day. Tyler volunteered to talk to him about peeing all over the toilet. You’ll owe Tyler a beer when you get back home.”