by Cynthia Eden
“Kace could have been the one to do this. He’s on to me,” Bree said with certainty. “I told him that you and I had just hooked up once—a mistake.”
Silence. The uncomfortable kind.
“He could have done this,” Bree said again as a shiver slid over her body.
“Yeah, he could have—and that’s why it will seem odd to him if you don’t contact him and tell the guy what happened. If you play this too cool, he’ll know you’re a Fed.” He exhaled heavily. “Just call the club. If he’s still there—”
“I don’t need to call the club. I have his direct line. I can get him anytime I want.”
“Then play the victim and do it! Use this. And then I’ll get Dominic and Karin to talk with the owner of the bed and breakfast and to interview the others guests. But our first goal has to be getting closer to Kace Quick.”
Once more, her gaze trekked over the wreckage of her room. Would Kace really have done this? So much rage. “If it wasn’t him,” Bree licked her lips, “who would have done it?”
“Could have just been a robbery. You know, stuff like that happens in this town, especially in tourist spots—”
“There is rage here. Hate.” The scene was classic. Not just about a theft, but about destruction. “This isn’t some robbery.”
A pause. “What are you saying, Bree? You think…what? You’ve attracted the attention of the serial killer?”
Her grip on the phone became a painful clench.
“Because if that’s the case, we both know all signs point to the Strangler being Kace Quick.”
She licked her lower lip. The Strangler’s MO didn’t include B&E and destruction before he took a victim.
“Do your job, Agent Harlow.” Tension had entered Grayson’s voice. She was now Agent Harlow, not Bree. “The point was for you to go in undercover. To get close to Kace. Play the victim here, and he’ll pull you in tight. Even if he was the one to destroy your room. And if he is the serial killer, if our suspicions have been right all along, this gives you the chance to play bait. You can take him down Bree, before we have to send another woman’s body to the morgue.”
An image of the last victim flashed through her mind. The ER. The chaos. The blood on the woman’s chest.
“Do your job,” he said again.
The call ended.
“Fuck you,” Bree whispered. “And yeah, by the way, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” She tossed her phone onto the mess that was the bed. She pulled in a deep breath and reached into her bag to grab Kace’s phone. He was the only contact programmed in the phone. Her finger pressed to the screen. The phone rang and then—
“Missing me already?” His voice seemed to purr into her ear.
“Something happened.” Her own voice came out wooden. “I-I’m in my room, but everything has been slashed to pieces. My clothes, the sheets, the bed—”
“Get the hell out of there, right now.” Lethal fury hardened every word. “Get out of your room. Go find Ms. Queen. Stay in her room until I get there.” He swore. “Guessing Franco has already left?”
“Yes…”
“I’m texting him now. He’ll be back at your side in three minutes, or I fucking fire him.”
Her heart was still racing.
“Baby, are you all right?”
She grabbed her bag and the phone she’d dropped onto the bed. Bree hurriedly made her way to the door. “I’m okay.”
“You’ll be okay when you’re with me. I’m on the way, got me? I’m coming for you. Now get with Ms. Queen. Stay with her. Stay safe. I’m coming for you,” he said again.
***
Her clothes had been slit with a knife. Systematically destroyed. Stuffing hung out of her bed. Feathers from the pillows littered the floor.
Fury filled Kace. A dark and dangerous rage. Someone was going to pay for this.
“We should call the cops.”
He turned away from the scene and headed into the hallway. Bree stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot. A steely-eyed Ms. Queen was at her side. Franco lingered just steps away.
It was Bree who’d spoken, and, yeah, sure, they could call the cops. For all the good that would do. He pinned Ms. Queen with a hard glance. Ms. Queen. She’d been a fixture in the city forever. He knew she told folks she was eighty, but he thought she was closer to one hundred, and her mind was as sharp as it had been when she was twenty-one and raising hell. “You didn’t see anyone?”
She shook her head. “I-I went to bed around eleven. Didn’t hear a peep until Bree came banging on my door.”
Great. “The other guests? What about them?”
“There’s only two others here tonight,” Ms. Queen said quickly. “They’re one floor down. An elderly couple. And they didn’t see or hear anything.”
He glanced down at the lock on the door. Saw the faint marks that told him the lock had been picked. Those small scratches were a dead giveaway. His head tilted back as he studied Bree once more. “You talk to your FBI ex lately?”
She flinched. “What?”
“He broke into your room last night. Maybe he got pissed and came back again.”
But she shook her head. “No, Grayson wouldn’t do this.”
“Don’t be too sure, sweetheart. A badge doesn’t make a man good. He’s either good or he’s bad before he picks up the badge.” Kace raked a hand through his hair. “Franco, stay here. Talk to the cops.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I should talk to them,” Bree began, her cheeks flushing.
“I’m getting you some place safe. For all we know, the man who did this is outside, waiting and watching right now. I want you away from here until we can figure out what’s going on.” He marched toward her and took Bree’s hand. Her hand felt so small against his. Fragile.
And he thought of the damage the knife had done to her room.
A knife could do one hell of a lot of damage to her skin…
His gaze cut to Ms. Queen. “If anyone comes around looking for her, you let me know.”
“This is a nightmare.” Her eyes were huge. “If word gets out about what happened, my business will be—”
“I’ll give you enough money to get by. Don’t worry about that.”
She blinked quickly.
“You just remember to call me if anyone comes asking about Bree.”
She nodded.
He was done there. His fingers tightened around Bree’s. “Come on.” She had her bag, and there was nothing else in the small room that she could use. They hurried down the stairs and then toward his motorcycle. He’d hauled ass getting there to her. It was a lucky thing she hadn’t been there when the intruder broke in. If she had been there…
He pushed a helmet toward her. “Hold tight.” He climbed onto the bike and had the engine growling in moments.
She didn’t immediately get on behind him.
His head turned. “Bree?”
The small bag was still slung over one shoulder. She was staring at him, biting her lip, and the helmet was curled under one arm.
“Baby,” he softened his voice. “Climb on the bike. It’s time to take you home.”
She seemed a little dazed. “Home?”
“My home.” The engine growled again. “Top of the line security. No unwelcome guests will get inside, you can count on that.”
“I can’t just go to your house. I mean—”
“I’m not asking you into my bed.” Though she could certainly come there any time she wanted. “Got plenty of extra rooms at my place. You’ll stay in one of them until we figure things out.”
She still didn’t get on the bike.
What the hell? “Bree?”
“Tell me you didn’t break into my room.”
The fury inside of him flared higher. “That’s why you’re hesitating? You think I did this? You think I took a knife and slashed all of your belongings?”
“Tell me you didn’t break in.”
His jaw clenched. “I didn’
t destroy your clothes, Bree. I didn’t slash them to pieces. I didn’t take a knife and wreck your freaking bed. And, no, I didn’t have my men do any of that shit, either. Not really how I operate.” He gave her a grim smile. “But you don’t have to believe me. You can think I’m a liar. Go right ahead. But this liar is offering you protection. My protection. You come with me tonight, and everyone in this city will know that you’re off-limits. If someone wants to screw with you, they’ll have to go through me in order to do it.”
She inched a little closer to the motorcycle. She was definitely within grabbing range. “Why?” Bree demanded. “I don’t understand why you’re helping me!”
“Because even the devil can do something good once in a while.” His fingers were around the handlebars. He waited for her to choose—
She climbed on the motorcycle. She chose him. He gave her time to put on the helmet and adjust her bag. Then her hands slid around his waist. “I don’t trust you.”
He smiled. Good. You shouldn’t.
The motorcycle raced into the night.
***
Before she’d stepped foot inside Fantasy, Bree had carefully researched Kace Quick’s life. So, she wasn’t surprised when he pulled up in front of the mansion on Saint Charles Avenue. Tucked behind a tall, wrought-iron fence, the stately Victorian boasted two levels of ornate, wrap-around porches. Lights blazed from inside—illuminating window after window after window in the massive structure. Kace leaned toward a keypad and typed quickly. Bree caught sight of all the security cameras right before the gates swung open.
Then they were heading up the drive. The house just got bigger and bigger as she approached. She counted at least three—no, four chimneys sticking out of the house’s roof.
He braked the bike. She climbed off quickly, pushing the helmet back at him. The house was worth over four and a half million dollars. A figure she’d gotten during her research on Kace. The man had money to burn because the nearly nine thousand square foot home only had one resident—him.
The guy hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he had extra bedrooms. He’d been extremely understating things.
Bree didn’t speak until they were inside. The minute she walked through the entranceway, her gaze was captured by the massive chandelier that hung overhead. The ceiling stretched up so high that the place felt almost cavernous to her. Keeping the home heated must be a real bitch.
The hardwood gleamed beneath her feet. A long, thick rug stretched forward, and as she advanced, her shoes seemed to sink into the expensive material. For some reason, she almost felt as if she should be whispering as she asked, just to make sure, “We’re alone here?”
Kace stopped walking. He frowned back at her. “Yes. Completely alone.”
Then he turned to the left. He entered what looked like a small den—one equipped with a very huge and ornate fireplace. To the right of the fireplace, along the wall, there were over a dozen monitors. “As you can see,” Kace was staring at the monitors, “I have a full security feed for the exterior as well as many interior sections of the house. No one will be getting in here without me knowing.”
Okay. She rubbed her hands over the front of her black pants. She was so nervous in there. His home.
Kace swung toward her. “I’m going to put you in a bedroom on the second floor. I know you have to be exhausted, and you should get some rest.”
Actually, adrenaline was pumping wildly through her blood so rest was the last thing that she felt like getting, but Bree still trailed after him. When she caught sight of the staircase…
Holy mother.
The staircase was massive. No other word for it. Made of heavy, gleaming wood, it led to a landing that stopped in front of a gorgeous, arched, stained glass window. Then the stairs turned back, stretching higher until they reached the second floor.
Kace had paused mid-way up the stairs. He turned back to her, one dark brow raised. “Is there a problem?”
“This place.” Did her voice echo? Bree was pretty sure it did. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“You get used to it.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. “It’s just you living here?”
Kace nodded.
“You don’t think it’s…too much? I mean, for one person.”
“Maybe one day I’ll have a family.”
An image of a little boy, a miniature Kace, flashed before her eyes. She almost smiled.
“Maybe I won’t always be alone.” He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to see.” His head cocked as he seemed to consider things. “I grew up with nothing. Less than nothing. I suppose you could say that gave me a desire to possess everything.”
Judging by the house, Kace was certainly succeeding on that end.
He motioned with his hand. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room for the night.”
Her hand trailed over the thick banister as she followed him. The fourth stair squeaked beneath her feet. She couldn’t get over this place. It was like being in a castle. And Bree felt like an absolute fraud as she followed him to the second story. He turned to the right, and then he was opening a door for her.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping.”
She brushed past him and tried really hard not to let her jaw drop. A chandelier hung over the bed. Like everything else in the house, the cherry four-poster bed was massive. To the right of it, a huge, white stone fireplace waited. A fireplace in the bedroom. Of course, because, why not?
“The bathroom is in there.” He pointed. She didn’t look. “And I’m right next door, should you need anything.”
He was—Bree spun toward him. “Why are you doing this?”
He lifted a brow. “Offering you a separate bedroom?” Kace shrugged. “I thought you weren’t ready to slip into my bed, so I was being a gentleman.”
Bree felt her cheeks sting. “I’m not getting into your bed.”
He gave a knowing nod. “See? Didn’t think you were ready.”
Her hands fisted at her sides. “You don’t have a reputation for being nice. I don’t get why you’re playing the hero and moving me in here. I mean, you could have just dumped me at the nearest hotel. You didn’t have to come and pick me up at all. You didn’t—”
He stepped closer to her. She swallowed and tipped back her head.
“I’ve told you, don’t believe all of the stories you hear. Some are bullshit.”
“But some are truth.” And it was her job to figure out which ones were truth.
He gave her a fleeting smile. “Some are.”
Her gaze was on his mouth. The man had a mouth that was far too sexy, damn him.
“I’m being nice, as you call it, because I don’t want you hurt.” Such low, deep, rumbling words.
Now her gaze rose. He was staring straight at her, and she couldn’t look away.
“I want you.” Very blunt words. “Having you in my house gives me an advantage. When you suddenly realize how much you want me, too, I’ll be right next door.”
The man didn’t stop.
His gaze burned. “You’re under my protection. By bringing you here, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, you’re mine.”
Her heart pounded faster. “Is that supposed to keep me safe?” From who-the-hell-ever had broken into her place and trashed it?
His face hardened. “Actually, I’m afraid that, if anything, it will put you more at risk.”
“Because of…the killer out there.” She wasn’t going to dance around this. After all, wasn’t she there because of the Strangler? Because of those women who’d died?
“Because of him.” His hand lifted, and the back of his fingers brushed over her cheek. “Someone is trying to make me look like a monster.”
A shiver slid over her.
“I won’t let you be hurt. You’ll stay with me until I catch the bastard.”
Wait… “Until you catch him?” Her surprise was real. Since when was he hunting a killer? “Don’t you mean until the police catch h
im?”
His hand dropped. “No, sweetheart, because the cops and the Feds are only looking at me. They’re too blind to see the real killer. So, I have to stop the SOB. And my way of stopping him will be far better than theirs.”
Because he was planning to kill the guy. She understood exactly what he was saying.
“Get some rest,” Kace urged her. “Tomorrow, we’ll get you new clothes and anything else that you need.”
Again, being the hero. Being kind.
He turned and headed for the door.
That was it? The biggest bad guy in the city was just walking away? She’d expected…something. Maybe an attempt at a kiss. Maybe at least a better push for—
He glanced back at her—and laughed. “Bree, baby, why do you look disappointed?”
She didn’t. Did she? Oh, hell. Bree immediately schooled her features. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”
His gaze turned assessing. “And I’m trying to do the same with you.” He waited a beat, then admitted, “I want you in my bed.”
Her breath came a little faster.
“But when we fuck, I want to know exactly where your loyalty lies.”
Shock rolled through her. No, he didn’t mean—
“You’ll have to choose, you know. Eventually.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She would have liked to say the stutter was a deliberate touch, an effort to look uncertain, but in reality, she was nervous, and the stutter just slipped out.
“Yes, you do.” But he inclined his head. “Good night, Bree. Have good dreams. Really hot, sexy dreams about me.”
Her lips parted.
He was already gone.
***
Kace shut the door with a soft click. For a moment, he thought about locking the door. Having Bree free to wander his house might not be the best idea but…
The lady was full of surprises and, he figured she’d just be able to pick the lock. Besides, he wanted to see what she’d do now that he had her in his home. He figured it was past time to call her bluff. The game she was in had become increasingly dangerous.
Kace made his way back down the stairs. He avoided the fourth stair, knowing that it would give a telling creak. There wasn’t an inch of the house that he didn’t understand. From the moment he’d seen this place, he’d known that he had to possess it. He’d understood it was meant to be his. The boy who’d grown up on the streets, performing for the tourists in Jackson Square before he’d graduated to stealing from them—that boy now owned one of the biggest houses in the city. He owned the city, for all intents and purposes.