Mine to Keep

by Cynthia Eden

  If that were the case, I figure that I would’ve gotten a blackmail threat. Not this…the kills are personal.” They all had to see that.

  “Personal,” Noah agreed. “For you. Sharpe came to you, tried to warn you, and he died.”

  “Parker Jacobs wasn’t interested in warning me about anything. He was more interested in destroying me,” Trace said.

  “So that’s why he was used.” Noah was speaking faster now. “Sara was used, too. Both of them were pawns in the game.”

  Drake’s hands clenched on the leather arm-rests of his chair. “So this is all just a game?”

  “To someone, yeah, it is,” Noah agreed. “We just have to figure out who that someone is, because I’d bet my life that it isn’t Tucker. He’s dead and gone.”

  “What do we know about Tucker’s family?” Drake asked as a furrow appeared between his brows. “Maybe one of them found out what happened. Maybe one of them—”

  “Tucker was an only child. His mother died before he enlisted, and his father is still living down in Texas.”

  “Then he could—”

  “Quint Hawk is disabled, living on a fixed income, and the man sure doesn’t have the physical strength needed to commit these crimes.” Trace’s breath whispered out. “And as soon as this mess started, I had an agent head down there and verify that Quint was still at his old ranch.”

  Trace hadn’t seen Quint in person, not since the day of Tucker’s funeral service. He and Quint had been the only two there that day, standing in the rain, mourning the life that was gone.

  A life I took.

  “Then what about Anna Jean?” Noah said, giving a quick jerk of his head.

  Because Trace was watching Drake so closely, he saw the other man flinch at Noah’s question. Taking his time, Trace slid around the edge of his desk and closed in on Drake. Considering now, Trace said, “When we came back, we all dealt with the past differently. Noah there…he slept with every woman he could find, and he made sure that he never saw the same woman twice. I figured he was trying to make sure he never fell into the same trap that Tucker did. He didn’t want to latch on to one woman and become—”

  “Weak,” Noah said. But his voice was hesitant.

  “You…you Drake, at first, you seemed solid. You were the one who nearly died. You and Ben. Ben wasn’t the same, though, we all could see that. The demons chased and chased him, but you…” Trace exhaled. “You seemed stronger.”

  “Strong enough that you sent me to New York to keep an eye on the woman you loved.” Drake pushed from his chair. “And then I walked away.”

  “Why?” Drake was holding back on him. He knew it.

  Trace had kept tabs on the man over the years. Drake had returned to his home in the south, right along a strip of Mississippi Beach. He’d opened three casinos down there. He’d started two more in Vegas. Drake seemed to spend his days and nights surrounded by power players.

  But Trace knew just how deceptive appearances could be.

  “You shouldn’t have trusted me,” Drake said. “If you knew…you’d never have sent me after her.” Drake spun and marched toward the door. “If Tucker really is back from the dead, he’ll kill me long before he takes his knife to you.”

  “Uh, what the hell are you talking about?” Noah snapped.

  Drake paused at the door. He glanced back with a sardonic smile on his lips. “After all, I’m the one who fucked Tucker’s girl. I screwed Anna Jean, and the blind fool never even realized it. None of you did.” He yanked open the door and stormed out.

  Well, well…

  “Huh.” Now Noah sounded musing. Trace glanced at him. Noah shrugged. “I guess that explains why Anna Jean tried so hard to kill him. She didn’t want to take any chances on Tucker finding out that she’d been screwing around with his friend.” Noah exhaled heavily. “Talk about twisted shit.”

  Yes, it was.

  Noah crossed to Trace and slapped him on the shoulder. “But, look at it this way, if the guy wasn’t just BS’ing right then, you have some extra time. Because, hell, yeah, Tucker would go after the man who screwed Anna Jean. He’d destroy the guy.”

  “Drake didn’t exactly look scared to me.”

  “Well, that’s because I’m pretty sure the guy is insane. He doesn’t have the sense to be scared.”

  No, Trace didn’t think that was the case at all. “He’s got a death wish.”

  Surprise flashed on Noah’s face.

  “He wants to be punished. He’s wanted that for years.” But the problem was that if you wished for death too long…

  Death would come for you.

  Noah’s lips thinned. “You know, you never did answer my question about Anna Jean’s family. They could be looking for some payback, too, you know.”

  “Anna Jean’s parents are dead. She had one half-sister, Piper. A school teacher in Atlanta.” He’d checked on her after he’d come back from Russia. Made sure that Piper’s college was covered. Then he’d stayed the hell out of her life. “She doesn’t seem to have her sister’s killer instinct.”

  “Yeah, well, if you ask me, that’s a good thing.” Noah shoved his hands into his pockets. “But it sure seems to me that someone out there has got that instinct, and that person is closing in.”

  ***

  “I don’t have any place to stay.” Claire sat on the couch in the penthouse, her fingers twisted in front of her. Discarded tissues formed a pile around her. “I was supposed to be moving in with Sara. I-I just got into town a few hours early. She was going to help me find a job here.” A silent tear tracked down her cheek. “She can’t do that anymore.” Her voice was hoarse. “Sara can’t do anything now.”

  “You can stay here tonight,” Skye said immediately. “There is plenty of room in this place.”

  But Claire glanced around the penthouse, fear flashing in her gaze. “I can’t.” Whispered. “I just…can’t.”

  Skye frowned at her. “We have an extra bedroom.” Four of them. “You’ll be safe here.”

  Claire shook her head. “I don’t really…I’ve heard stories about Mr. Weston—”

  “Trace?”

  “He scares me. I used to ask Sara if he scared her.” Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “She said, ‘Every day. But that’s half the fun.’” Claire laughed then, and the sound was heavy with tears. “But Sara was lying to me, you see. I don’t think she was ever really afraid of anything. She isn’t like me.” Claire’s shoulders hunched.

  Skye gazed at her, her heart aching. There was something about Claire that reminded her…

  Of me.

  “I’ll get a hotel. It’ll be fine.” Claire stood up. Squared her shoulders. “I don’t need—”

  “There’s an apartment over my dance studio,” Skye said, rising with her. “You can stay there. No one will bother you.”

  Claire’s lips trembled. “Th-thank you.” Then she paused. “I…know about what happened to you.”

  At this point, Skye was sure most of the world did. She lifted her chin. “I didn’t—”

  “Surviving is hard, isn’t it? But at least you know he’s not out there anymore, watching you.” Claire licked her lips. “That part is the scariest.”

  Skye felt her heartbeat race. She’s speaking from experience.

  “Never knowing…it’s the hardest.” Claire’s eyes squeezed shut, then she whispered, “It’s my fault that Sara is dead.”

  “What?” Skye shook her head and then realized that Claire couldn’t see the move. “No, no, it isn’t.”

  Claire’s body trembled. “He killed my parents, and he killed her, too.”

  “Claire.” Skye snapped out her name. “What are you talking about?”

  “My lover,” she said as her eyes opened. “My one and only. He said I was his forever, and he’s made sure that I am.”

  Goosebumps rose on Skye’s arms.

  I see me in her. The same fear. The terror that lurked in Claire’s eyes.

  “I thought I’d e
scaped, just like you had. But I didn’t.” More tears slid down Claire’s cheeks. “And Sara is dead.”

  “It wasn’t because of you.” Skye wanted to shake the other woman. So she did. Hard.

  Claire blinked at her.

  “I don’t know what happened to your parents or what happened to you, but Sara’s death isn’t on you.” Skye sucked in a sharp breath. “Someone is killing in this city. This is his third attack. The crimes are all the same. The victims are all—” Skye broke off, not wanting to reveal the gory details to Claire.

  “Th-third attack?”

  “Two men were killed before Sara.”

  “You’re sure it’s the same killer?”

  “Yes.” Because the killer was from Trace’s past.

  “Why? Why would he go after my sister?”

  “We think…” It was so hard to say this as she stared into those tear-filled eyes. “We think the killer was using her in order to get at Trace. And after he’d gotten what he needed from Sara…”

  “He killed my sister.” Hollow words. Words that matched the look in Claire’s eyes.

  Skye nodded. Claire deserved the truth, and she was determined to give it to her.

  One survivor to another.

  “I need to see her,” Claire said. “Please…”

  The body had been transferred down to the coroner’s office hours before. Skye knew the ME wouldn’t be finished with the exam, not yet.

  “I need to do it. I’m all that Sara has.”

  “I’ll call Alex.” The detective might be able to arrange something for them.

  At least Claire wouldn’t be seeing her sister’s body, soaked in blood. They could get the ME to only show her face to Claire. They could do something.

  Because if they didn’t, Skye was worried that Claire might just break apart.

  ***

  When his phone rang, Trace snatched it up immediately. “Reese? What’s happening?” Reese had orders to stick close to Skye. She was not going to end up like Sara.

  “Uh, boss, they’re heading to the ME’s office. Skye and Sara’s sister.”

  The ME’s office.

  “Just thought you should know.”

  “I’m on my way.” He stood. “Noah, start checking your personnel. I’ve already got a team backtracking through the last few weeks of Sara’s life. Someone saw the guy. Somewhere, sometime.” They just had to talk to the right person. The one who remembered the SOB.

  Noah nodded and walked to the door with him. “Where are you going?”

  “To see the dead.”

  ***

  “I should come in with you,” Reese said as they stood in front of the police station. “I can help.”

  Claire wouldn’t look straight at Reese. Skye had noticed that Claire also stiffened her body whenever Reese got too close to her.

  “Alex is waiting for us inside.” Skye gave Reese a wan smile. “But thank you.”

  He nodded. His gaze drifted to Claire. “I’m sorry about your sister. Sara was a good woman. She didn’t deserve an end like that.”

  Claire pulled in a rough breath. “Thank you.”

  They hurried inside. The steps they climbed seemed huge, but then they were past the swinging glass doors and in the lobby of the Chicago PD. The Medical Examiner’s office was located just behind the PD, but in order to gain access, they had to make sure they had Alex with them.

  Skye signed in, then asked to be directed to Detective Alex Griffin’s desk.

  “I’m right here,” Alex said.

  Skye looked up. Alex marched toward them, the lines near his mouth making him look grim. Tired.

  Alex’s gaze slid from her to Claire. “Ms. Kramer.”

  “I want to see my sister.” Claire’s hands had fisted.

  “The ME isn’t…ah, the autopsy hasn’t been completed.”

  Based on what she’d seen, Skye was pretty sure what the cause of death would be.

  “I have to see her.” Desperation filled Claire’s words.

  “Soon,” Alex promised. “First, we need to talk.” His hand lifted and his fingers pressed into Claire’s shoulders.

  Claire flinched and pulled away from him. “I don’t…I don’t like being touched.” Flat. Hard.

  But Claire hadn’t objected at all when Skye touched her.

  Skye saw the flash of understanding in Alex’s eyes. After the things he’d experienced in his own life and the darkness he saw each day, Skye realized that he understood Claire perfectly. “Of course. My apologies,” Alex said as he dropped his hand.

  Claire’s shoulders sagged. “I’m not interested in talking. I have to see my sister.”

  The glass doors swung open again. Skye glanced back and saw Trace striding determinedly toward them.

  Of course, he walked as if he owned the place.

  He didn’t. Yet.

  “Now it’s a party,” Alex muttered.

  “Damn right,” Trace said, obviously catching the detective’s comment. “I think you were about to escort us to the ME’s office.”

  Alex leaned toward Trace. “It’s better, but she’s not…she’s not exactly show ready yet.”

  “I can handle it,” Claire said. “But I have to know for myself. I have to see…that it wasn’t him.”

  Trace’s head jerked up. Alex’s gaze snapped to instant attention. “Him?” Alex repeated.

  Trace stepped toward Claire. Unlike Alex, he didn’t make the mistake of touching the other woman. “Claire,” Trace’s voice was low, soothing. “Ethan Harrison is still locked up. He had nothing to do with your sister’s death.”

  Trace knows about her past.

  And he also knew to treat Claire very carefully. He glanced over at Alex. “She just needs to see Sara’s face. Give her that.”

  Alex nodded, but then he said, “You tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Of course,” Trace murmured.

  Alex waved toward Skye and Claire. “You two wait in the conference room, and we’ll get things ready.”

  ***

  The conference room door closed with a faint click. Skye sat down at the narrow table. Claire didn’t. Claire wrapped her arms around her stomach and stood near the right wall.

  Skye reached for the coffee pot that someone had conveniently set up for them. “Let me get you a cup of coffee. It might make you feel a little better.” Right. Like coffee would fix what was wrong with Claire.

  “You’re not asking about Ethan.” The words were sharp, accusing.

  Skye shook her head.

  “Is it because you already know? Did Trace tell you? Do you know all about my breakdown?”

  At that, Skye flinched. “No,” she said softly and she put the coffee aside. Definitely won’t help. “I don’t, Claire.”

  “You must think I’m so weak.” Claire swiped at her tears. “You survived. I read your story—he had you for days. You made it out.”

  “We each have our own hell.” Skye was coming to realize that statement was true more and more each day.

  Claire rocked back on her heels. “Yes, we do.”

  ***

  “I should’ve known you’d be showing up, Weston,” Alex muttered. “Where Skye goes, you follow.”

  They’d just left the main PD building and were taking the stairs that led to the ME’s office.

  “I need to see the other bodies,” Trace said.

  Alex glanced back at him. “And I’m just going to give you access to them because—”

  “Because after what happened to Sara, you have to know that I’m not the killer. She was still warm when we got there.” Trace had touched her skin. He’d hoped that maybe—

  Too much blood.

  “You didn’t kill her, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t take out the others. And maybe you just sent someone else to kill Sara. After all, she blew your alibi to hell and back and you—”

  “Showing me the bodies won’t make me any less or more guilty. But maybe… maybe I’ll be able to see s
omething,” Trace said, his words rolling over Alex’s.

  “Something?” Alex parroted as he squared off with Trace. “That’s what we have an ME for. To find that ‘something’ left behind by the killer.”

  He wanted to grab the detective and toss him against the nearest wall. “Listen. The killer is playing a game with me. You’ve got to see that. He might’ve left a message for me in the damn kills themselves. Just let me see the bodies, okay? I won’t touch anything. You can stand there the whole time and watch me.”

  Alex’s jaw tightened. “One condition.”

  “What?” Trace snapped.

  “Save me some time. I can go and dig into Claire’s past and find out who this Ethan Harrison is, or you can tell me now.”

  Trace raised a brow. “So I’m doing your detective work for you.”

  “You are such a dick. You already did the work, tell me—and we both know I’m going to research later to make sure you’re not just blowing smoke up my ass.”

  Fine. “Ethan Harrison is Claire’s ex-boyfriend. She met him when she was a junior in high school…”

  So young to meet such evil.

  ***

  “I didn’t have a lot of money growing up.” Claire’s blue gaze seemed focused on the past. “But that never seemed to matter. So my clothes weren’t new. So I didn’t go on big vacations. My family was happy. I was happy, and then I-I met him.”

  “Ethan?”

  “He was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. The first time he smiled at me, I swear, I felt that smile go straight through me.”

  Skye knew exactly what Claire meant. She felt that way when she got Trace’s rare smiles.

  “I worked at a diner in town, and he came in there one day. Everyone was whispering about him. His dad was a senator, and Ethan…he drove this cherry-red convertible. All the other girls wanted to ride with him.” Her voice dropped. “They wanted to do everything with him, but Ethan seemed to only want me.”

  Hearing the pain in the other woman’s voice, Skye hurt for her.

  Claire’s lashes lowered as she stared at the floor. “I hadn’t dated before Ethan. I was nervous and scared, but he seemed so patient with me. He sent me flowers. Waited for me after work. He seemed so perfect.” She glanced up. “It didn’t take me long to realize that perfect was just a lie.”