Don't Trust A Killer

by Cynthia Eden

  Disgust had his lips curling into a sneer. “You are such a freaking class act.”

  Grayson’s chin notched up. “You never looked at Abby. She hated that. Now, she hates the one you can’t take your eyes off. I was trying to make her see reason. I was trying—”

  Kace’s spine stiffened. Another puzzle piece had just snapped into place. “Abby drives a black SUV.”

  Franco twisted Grayson’s shoulder.

  Grayson bellowed.

  Kace ignored the man’s cry of pain. Bree had nearly been run down by someone driving a black SUV. Abby drove a black SUV.

  “Ease up,” he ordered Franco. Then he pointed to Grayson. “Talk. Or that arm gets broken.”

  “Love can make people do crazy shit.” A bitter laugh from Grayson. “When she found out that Bree was a Fed, that she was working for me and you didn’t care, Abby lost it. You still wanted Bree, you still were just as obsessed with Bree even though—”

  Kace’s left hand drove into the guy’s ribs. “I told you not to mention her name again.”

  Grayson’s face flushed.

  “You knew Abby tried to run down Bree? You knew it, and you didn’t turn her in?”

  Grayson coughed. “What…what did you want—”

  “You’re a worthless piece of shit. You’re done with the FBI. I’m going to make sure of it. You’re done in this town. You’re done.” He lifted the gun.

  “I didn’t kill those women!” A desperate yell. “Ask Abby—she can alibi me! I didn’t kill—”

  “I’ll ask Abby. I’m going to see her next. I’ll get her to tell me everything.” He smiled. “I’ll have my men watching you. Every single moment. You won’t see them, but believe me, those guys are in the shadows, and they are watching you.” He waved to Franco and Remy. “Let’s go. The other team won’t let him out of their sight.” The men he’d already stationed as lookouts just beyond Grayson’s place.

  As they headed for the door, Grayson called out, “I’ll have you locked up for this!”

  Kace didn’t look back. “No, you won’t. Because my men here will swear that you instigated this meeting. That you were the one to attack me when I walked in the door. I just had to defend myself.” Grayson’s gun was still in Kace’s hand. “And I’ll be keeping this…” Like he was going to leave the guy armed when Kace’s back was turned. Besides, the agent’s gun might come in handy…in case he needed to frame the SOB.

  What better way to take down a Fed? Show the world he’s dirty. Your turn to be the criminal. He wasn’t done with Grayson, not by a long shot.

  Franco led the way as they left the building. Remy was pulling up the rear. Kace inclined his head as he saw two of his men waiting across the street. Grayson would go nowhere. Not without him knowing.

  “Get back to Bree,” Kace told Franco as they stood on the street corner. “I’ve got men watching her, but I want you there.” Franco had never been afraid to get rough. “Anyone comes at her, and you make the fool sorry.”

  Franco nodded. Without a word, he headed for his car.

  “You don’t trust me with Bree?” Remy asked quietly. “I thought I was supposed to be your right-hand man.”

  Kace smiled at the guy. “Of course, I trust you. That’s why you’re about to help me do the dirty work.”

  ***

  The coroner’s office was ice cold. Located near the police station, the short, squat building reminded Bree of a freezer. She’d gone there to see what info she could get from the coroner. But now she was just cooling her heels as she waited for—

  Bree’s phone rang. She yanked it up, frowning when she saw the caller. She put the phone to her ear. “Grayson? What do you—”

  “You were supposed to bring him down, Bree.” His voice was angry. Muffled. “Instead, he brought you down. Down into the mud with him.” Static crackled, distorting his voice.

  “Look, Grayson, I don’t have time for your—”

  “Meet me at the cemetery, Bree. St. Louis Number 1. I’ll give you all the proof you could ever need.”

  “You think I’m meeting you in a cemetery? Are you insane?”

  “Your boyfriend has his men watching my place. I have to sneak out. I can’t let them see me. We can’t be seen together.”

  And he was picking a cemetery for a meeting spot? That didn’t sound ominous at all. “You got something to say, meet me at the station.”

  “I’m suspended. Shit, do this, okay? Give me a chance to plead my case. Meet me there. Thirty minutes.” He hung up.

  “Jerk.” Her gaze darted to the coroner’s closed office door. She hurried forward, knocking before she pushed inside. “Dr. Crawford? Do you have any—”

  Angela turned toward Bree. Amelia Sanderson’s body was on the table before her. Her skin was pale. Her hair had been brushed away from her face. The deep stab wound on her body puckered up her flesh.

  The blood is all around me.

  “It’s going to be a little while longer,” Angela told her, voice brisk. “I did recover a dark hair from the victim, but it could have just come from someone at the hospital. I won’t know for sure until we do DNA analysis. And I’m afraid that’s going to take some time.”

  Time they didn’t have. “I have to go for a meeting.” Bree grabbed a pen and scribbled down her number. “Text me if you discover anything I can use.”

  “I will.” A pause. “I’m going to begin work on Marie next. Maybe I’ll find something on her remains that will help us. The dead can often reveal many secrets.”

  A line of lockers waited to the right. Bree knew bodies were in those lockers. Victims. “I hope Marie tells you something we can use.” Something that could stop the killer out there. It wasn’t right that Marie was trapped in one of those cold lockers while the man who’d hurt her still hunted on the streets.

  Bree rushed away, her shoes squeaking over the tiled floor as the scent of antiseptic chased her from the lab. As she hurried out, Bree bumped into Dominic.

  “Bree!” He caught her shoulders in his hands. “Where’s the fire?”

  Bad joke. Bad.

  He winced. “Sorry. That’s not what I…” He let her go. “Did you learn something?” His gaze jumped to the lab doors. “Did Dr. Crawford find a link to our killer?”

  “She found a hair on Amelia. But you saw that circus at the hospital. The hair could have come from a doctor or a nurse or—” Bree exhaled in frustration. “We won’t know until the tests are done. For now, though, I’ve got Grayson calling me, telling me that we have to meet up because he’s got evidence I need to see. And he wants to meet in a damn cemetery of all places.”

  Dominic’s eyes immediately narrowed. “What? I’m coming with you.”

  “No, I’ve got this covered.” And if Grayson was going to throw out some shit on Kace, she didn’t want Dominic there for that scene. “You stay with Dr. Crawford. She’s going to start on Marie soon.”

  He nodded, but still seemed worried. “If you need me…”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll call in the cavalry at the first sign of trouble.” Bree briskly strode the hallway. It was edging close to one a.m. The coroner was pulling an all-nighter, everyone was working around the clock on this case, and now Grayson was demanding they meet at a freaking cemetery?

  Like that didn’t smell like the worst kind of plan ever?

  Bree pushed open the glass doors and hurried outside. The air was crisp, strangely so for New Orleans, even in October. She ran down the steps, catching sight of the two men that Kace had left to keep an eye on her. She was an FBI Agent with her own body guards. And right then, she was absolutely going to use them. Bree pointed to the men. “You’re coming with me.”

  A meeting in a cemetery? In the middle of the night? Trouble. Absolutely. She didn’t trust Grayson as far as she could throw him. So, if he tried anything with her, she’d have back-up. And if he did have evidence against Kace…

  No, I don’t believe it. Grayson doesn’t have anything on him. Despite ever
ything…maybe because of it…

  Bree had started to trust her lover. She’d let Kace past her guard and into her heart. He wasn’t a cold, dark killer. Not Kace. Not him.

  ***

  “You’re a fucking cold-blooded killer, aren’t you?” Remy demanded as they braked in front of Abby’s home. A small, quiet house on the outskirts of town. “You’re going in there to kill that woman.”

  “She tried to kill Bree.”

  “You’re going by Grayson’s words? His accusation? We both know the guy is a dipshit!”

  Kace turned his head. He’d driven them over while Remy had ridden shotgun. “Are you in this with me?”

  “What?” Remy’s eyes were huge. “In to killing Abby? Shit, fuck. Let’s talk to the woman first. See what she has to say. Because from where I’m sitting, I buy Grayson being the bad guy, not her.”

  “We’ll see.” Kace climbed from the vehicle. He didn’t go to the house’s front door, though. Instead, he headed around back, moving toward the garage that he’d paid to have installed for Abby last year.

  Her SUV waited inside.

  He flipped on the garage’s light. Stared at the scratched and crumpled front end of Abby’s vehicle.

  Behind him, Remy swore.

  “How’s that for proof?” Kace asked. He’d worked with Abby. Given her a chance. Hell, they’d known each other for years. They’d come up on the streets together. They’d known each other since…

  Fucking hell. I knew her back when I dated Brittney.

  Abby had been friends with Brittney. Grayson had even admitted to knowing her, too. Saying they’d gone back to the old days.

  “She couldn’t have done it on her own.” Kace’s hands fisted as his mind whirled. “No fucking way. She wouldn’t be strong enough to move the bodies. Not on her own. And I saw the guy in the video. Abby isn’t that big.”

  “What are you talking about?” Remy demanded. Then his eyes widened. “You think—no, Abby isn’t the Strangler! The killer is a man.” He was adamant. “We both saw him in the video. No way Abby is strong enough to drag Hank Cannon the way the killer did. She couldn’t!”

  Kace shoved past him and ran for the house. At the door, he didn’t even slow down. He just kicked it open, and the door flew back against the wall. “Abby!” Kace bellowed her name.

  She wasn’t there. A fast and frantic search of the house showed that the place was empty. The house was quiet and still and…

  Kace turned toward her bedroom. He stalked inside.

  “What are you doing?” Remy rushed to keep up with him.

  “When I was getting her to tell me about serials, Bree told me that they often keep souvenirs from the kills.”

  “Trophies,” Remy muttered. “They’re called trophies. Not fucking souvenirs.”

  Kace slanted him a fast glance.

  “I watch Investigation Discovery, okay? So I know some shit. And Abby isn’t the killer. We’re looking for a man. We’re looking for—”

  Kace opened the closet door. Turned on the light. Saw all of the clothes that were carefully arranged on the right. Clothes he’d seen Abby wear at the club. But to the left…those clothes were different.

  A woman’s scarf. One with a C on the bottom. Ciara. A leotard covered with faux diamonds. The same leotard that Marie had worn at Fantasy. A black blouse—a waitress’s blouse like the one that Amelia would have worn, back when she’d worked at Kace’s other club, Nightmare, and—

  A black box was under the clothes. With his gloved hands, Kace reached for the box and opened it. Blond hair was inside. Chunks of sawed off blond hair. Marie’s hair.

  “Holy shit,” Remy exclaimed. “But, but—”

  “She’s not doing it alone.” A man had been in the video with Hank. A man had been seen at the tracks. Abby was involved with the killings, but it wasn’t just her. It had never been just her. “She’s got a partner.” He yanked out his phone. “And we fucking just left the sonofabitch.” He called one of the men he’d left stationed at Grayson’s place. The fellow answered on the second ring. “Get inside,” Kace blasted. “Make sure the bastard is still there!”

  ***

  “Wait! Hold on!”

  Bree turned at the call. She’d been getting ready to slide into her car, but Franco approached her, breathing hard. “I’m coming with you, Bree.”

  She frowned at him. “I’ve got two guys already tailing me. I don’t need—”

  “Kace told me to stick with you. If you’re going somewhere, then I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  Bree checked her weapon.

  “It’s the way it’s gonna be,” Franco said, looking uncomfortable. “I mean, if you’re going to be with Kace. This is his life. He doesn’t want to risk you.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  He nodded but said, “I don’t doubt it, but if Kace finds out I let you leave without me, he’ll kick me out onto the street. I’m not kidding. We both know it. I’m fired if I don’t stay with you.”

  Hell. “Get in the car.”

  He gave her a giant grin and rushed around the vehicle.

  She climbed inside. Slammed the door.

  “Where are we going?” Franco asked. “Who are we meeting?”

  We? They weren’t exactly a team. “Grayson.”

  “What?”

  ***

  “He’s gone, boss.”

  Kace nearly crushed his phone.

  “I don’t know how he slipped away, and I’m so freaking sorry, but the Fed’s place is empty and—”

  “Search the neighborhood. Find him.” Fury crackled in each word. He hung up the phone and immediately called the person who mattered most—the woman he feared was in the most danger. “Come on, baby, pick up.” He stood in that closet, the evidence right in front of him, and Remy watching him with narrowed eyes.

  Bree’s phone rang. Once. Twice—

  “Kace, this isn’t a good time,” she told him briskly.

  “Bree. Fuck, baby, you’re in danger.”

  “I’m not alone.” She sounded utterly calm. “Don’t worry. But I have to meet Grayson and—”

  “He’s the danger! He’s the—”

  Bree gave a sharp gasp. “What the hell? Why are you—Gun!”

  The line went dead. He called her again. The phone rang and rang and—went to voice mail.

  Remy coughed. “Uh, Kace…”

  He could feel pinpricks on his skin as a cold, killing rage filled him.

  “Kace, is everything okay?”

  No, nothing was okay. Not a single thing.

  Bree. Baby, I’m coming.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Gun!” Bree screamed out the word because she needed Kace to know what was happening.

  The gun jabbed harder into her side. “Just shut up and drive, Bree.”

  “Franco.” Her hands tightened on the wheel. After she’d screamed, he’d cut her Bluetooth connection, then he’d thrown her phone out the window. “What are you doing?”

  He laughed. “You know what I’m doing, Agent Harlow.”

  “You’re supposed to protect me. You work for Kace. You—”

  “Kace should be working for me. What the hell makes him so special? Nothing. Nothing at all. The guy doesn’t even have a killer instinct. Not anymore. The fool started going legit a year ago. Transferring all of his holdings, burying the past. But you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just throw all of that power away, not when I’ve been waiting in the wings. Doing every grunt job he tossed at me. Not when it’s my turn.”

  Her gaze cut to him. “You think you’re going to shoot me?” They were almost at the cemetery. She could see the heavy wall. The gates. Open. They should have been locked. Grayson must already be inside.

  Franco yanked her gun out of the holster and shoved it inside the glove box. “I’m not going to shoot you. Don’t you worry about that.”

  “You’re lying. When Kace finds out what you’ve done—”

/>   Franco just laughed. “He’s not gonna find out. He doesn’t know it’s me. Doesn’t have any clue.” His voice was thick with satisfaction. “Stop the car. We’re going inside to see dear old Grayson.”

  She shut off the car. Turned toward him. “Why are you doing this?”

  His phone started ringing. Kace. She knew it had to be Kace.

  “It’s my turn to rule this town. Kace Quick will go down in flames. He’ll burn because of you.”

  No, he wouldn’t.

  “Get out of the car, Bree. Grayson’s gonna be inside, you told me that yourself. Can’t have him waiting.”

  This was her chance.

  She shoved open her door. Heard him doing the same with the passenger side door. This was her best shot, his moment of inattention…

  She ran.

  “Bree!” Franco yelled her name.

  She expected to feel a bullet slamming into her. But he didn’t fire.

  “Bree!”

  She rushed through the open cemetery gates, her shirt getting caught on the old wrought iron and tearing. Bree didn’t stop. She lunged forward. If she could find Grayson, he’d have a weapon. Or a phone. Something. They’d get out of there.

  The cemetery was a maze. Everywhere she turned, tall, old mausoleums stretched taller than Bree. As she ran, she saw flickering candles near some of the graves. Those candles cast faint, sinister lights in the darkness. She wanted to scream for help, but Bree didn’t want to give away her location, not with Franco hunting her.

  Her heart raced in her chest. She rounded another mausoleum and sank down, ducking for cover. Running blindly wasn’t going to work. She needed a weapon, and she needed one right then. Her hands fumbled against the wall of the old mausoleum. One of the bricks felt loose and she grabbed it, yanking hard, pulling with all of her strength.

  A bright light hit her. “Hello, Bree.”

  She lifted the brick.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Grayson muttered. “I asked you to meet me here so we could talk without Kace’s men watching, but you’re holding that brick like you’re about to bash my head in.”