An Embarrassment of Monsters: A Dark Romantic Suspense Novel (Alace Sweets Book 3)

by MariaLisa deMora

  Buzz.

  What do you need?

  “Time. Time and info. You dig out what we’ve got on the previous buyers and put your gigantic brain to work on the puzzle of which one is the mega dick who bought Kelly. We’ve got to find the sister. She’s the only girl in the group. That could go downhill real fast without Kelly there to protect her.” He threw away another handful of antiseptic wipes and stepped back, studying the boy. “This isn’t working. I need to get him into the bathtub.” He blew out a long breath, turning ideas over in his head. “What do I need? I need clothing for him. Something comfortable and easy to put on. He wasn’t wearing a stitch when he showed up. I made do while getting him out of there, but everything I have is too big. A delivery of hot soup or something else to eat would be good. I’ve been gone long enough anything I left in the fridge is going to be bad, so maybe some regular groceries, too?” Slipping his arms underneath Kelly’s back and knees, he lifted the boy and sleeping bag, turning to face the camera. “And anything else you think I need. You’re the brooding hen here. I’m the clueless-but-fun uncle type.”

  Got you covered.

  He was reading the message as the buzz sounded, already nodding at the camera. “I know you do, Alace. You’ve got my back, always.”

  The tablet was silent, but he knew Alace was still watching. She took compliments about as well as Owen himself did, which was to say not well at all.

  Hefting the boy a little higher, he tipped his head to the door. “Bathroom next. There’s no screen in there, but you can alarm the one in here and I’ll hear it.” Turning, he gave the camera his back in an honorary gesture of trust he knew Alace would pick up and understand. “Thank you, Alace.”

  ***

  Alace

  She remained seated in her chair after disconnecting with Owen. Staring blankly at the screen, she didn’t see the reams of information scattered across the display in a variety of documents. Her mind’s eye was stuck on the image of Owen holding the unconscious young boy to his chest, as if he had transformed into a father about to put an exhausted child to bed after a day full of wholesome and character-building activities. The way he’d handled the boy laid out on the table had told the same story, Owen keeping at least one protective hand on the child’s form in case he moved. He’d been still and quiet, this boy named Kelly, this ghost who’d simply happened to stumble on the campsite of a man uniquely positioned to help him.

  Alace had never believed in coincidences.

  Even when it meant the alternative placed the boy as a pawn in a game she didn’t yet see, poised to target her friend in a way that had the potential to erase his whole world. And if Owen lost the chance to do the missions, as he called them? It wouldn’t be pretty. Might as well take him out myself if that happens.

  There was no way Alace could have stated her concerns at the time, not using text as she was, and not with Owen halfway across the country from where she sat in her bedroom. He’d have gotten pissed and shut her out. She knew, because it was how she would have reacted if someone had done the same. His self-assigned mission right now was entirely about that boy. Owen was hyper-focused on Kelly’s health and safety, and part of his fixation was going to include finding the sister and bringing her home. Anything that got in the way of that would be kicked to the curb. Fast.

  Since communication was the most critical element for what they did, distance didn’t normally matter. Given the methods they’d chosen—talking their way through a job still meant instantaneous communication as long as there was connectivity, no matter if it was text, voice, or video.

  For a conversation of this magnitude, Alace wanted to have at least voice. Better would be a vid call, where miniscule variances, including simple nuance of tone, could be mapped and categorized. Even as measured and controlled as the two of them were, Owen had his tells. As do I.

  Better yet? A surprise visit to Owen’s edge-of-town home in northern New Jersey.

  Alace glanced over her shoulder at Eric, unsurprised to find him studying her with a steady gaze.

  “Nope. You are exceedingly pregnant and can’t even tie your own shoes. No way. You are not flying off to wherever it was Owen is.”

  It was annoying sometimes how well he knew her.

  Straightening to face the computer again, she mentally ran through the list of things Owen had asked for. Some would be a simple online order to a grocery store for delivery. One or two would require more personal handling to get what was necessary in the timeframe within which they needed to work. Huh. Now it’s both of us in this. She shook her head and clicked on an anonymous browser within a remote session window.

  “I know I can’t go.” At her words, Eric stirred behind her, the covers rustling as he shifted closer. Fingers flying over the keys, she gathered items into her cart, adding in a variety of additional options. She set up a concierge delivery, which would be handled expeditiously, then waited for the confirmation message. Heat bloomed across her skin as Eric’s hands landed on her shoulders, strong fingers wrapping around and holding loosely. “But something’s not right. There are things I can’t tell you, but trust me when I say I’m fairly confident this isn’t what it looks like.”

  Another remote window gave her the option of logging into another network, which she did, and then she accessed a drive on a different cloud-based system. The display had a half a dozen coded names, and she studied the ones that glowed a light green. Of the three available assets, she selected the one she knew would be positioned closest to where Owen lived and initiated contact.

  As she waited for the response, she looked up at Eric, finding his gaze fixed on her, not the computer screen. As always, he only saw her, and she smiled, lifting her chin with a demand he quickly gave in to, bending deep and brushing his mouth across hers.

  “I love you,” she whispered as he pulled back, warmed inside when his gorgeous eyes softened with pleasure. “I’m worried about him. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

  Alace was unable to avoid a tiny flinch when that last sentence escaped. The guilt she continued to feel over a near-miss with the pregnancy early on didn’t seem to be fading. Eric was bothered every time the remorse surfaced, so she tried to keep the feeling in check as much as possible. He and the doctor had both assured Alace her miscalculation around how much activity was okay was normal, but the idea she could have hurt Eric by what she still saw as her selfishness wouldn’t go away.

  “Beloved.” His voice rumbled against her skin, his lips skating along the edge of her jaw until he nibbled and plucked at the lobe of her ear. “Of course you wouldn’t. You love her.”

  “I do.” It was truth, and something that still surprised Alace sometimes. Not that she could have feelings for this baby, an extension of Eric who she loved with all her heart—but the depth of those emotions. “So much.”

  “I wish he were closer so we could do more to help him.” Eric pulled back, his gaze pensive. “It feels wrong to simply sit here and do nothing.” His eyes closed, and he danced the tip of his nose alongside hers. “But I trust you to take care of our friend. And I’ll take care of you. Sometimes that taking care is reminding you of the changes in our lives. That’s all, Alace. It wasn’t a dig or anything. You know I was never angry or upset. Innocence in intent.”

  “I like when you take care of me.” The idea of innocence being credited to her was humorous, so Alace offered Eric a quirked grin when his eyes flashed open, his expression hooded in response to her sultry and teasing tone. “All the time, mister.”

  “My baby always needs me.” Soft lips touched hers and moved gently, placing tiny kisses at each corner of her mouth. “Love you so much, Alace.”

  He straightened and glanced at the computer screen, then back at her. “I’ll go get you some snacks. Put your feet up until I get back.” She nodded, and he lifted a hand from her shoulder, traveling across her skin to caress the nape of her neck. The touch left a trail of heat behind that in different circumstances would h
ave turned to arousal. Eric’s words reminded her of the needs at hand. “Do your thing, get Owen what he needs, then start digging and figure out why this kid just happened to stumble into his path. That doesn’t add up.”

  “Right?” Alace shook her head, her single-word exclamation admitting her concern on that point. Eric was still laughing as he walked from the room, and she settled back at the keyboard. When she could no longer hear his footsteps, she muttered to the screen, “Even Eric the lawyerly says so.”

  Three hours later, she’d messaged with Owen a dozen times, following his progress with the boy into the rooms where there were cameras and screens. Kelly had woken enough to eat some of the pho she’d had delivered, Owen having to handle the utensils needed for the chicken and noodles. The boy’s fever had gone down, but his coughing was still worrisome to hear. Alace had gone back and forth between the desk and the bed, and back again a couple of times, switching from the computer to a tablet as needed. Kelly was sleeping now, in what appeared to be a true, restorative sleep, and it was time for the difficult conversation she and Owen needed to have.

  She typed in a message to that effect, sending it along with a silent pulse of the alarm to bring Owen’s attention to the screen. He nodded without speaking, and she watched as he brushed Kelly’s hair back from his forehead, his palm pausing briefly to check the boy’s temperature. How does he know to be such a— Dad felt wrong, even as a thought, but she couldn’t think of anything else that was as appropriate.

  He stalked from the room, and she saw from the camera he must have left the door ajar, light seeping in from the hallway. She tracked his progress through the house, not surprised when he wound up in the kitchen, standing in front of the refrigerator with the door open. At least he had food in it now.

  Speaking to the air, which meant to her, he said, “Give me a couple of minutes, Alace. I’ll call you on vid when I’m ready.”

  She tipped her head slightly. His tone was tolerant, pleasant, but the words were dismissive. Why would he want her out of his security system?

  She keyed into the screen mounted on the cabinet beside the refrigerator. What are you going to do?

  His face was hidden from the camera positions she had available, and that restriction was uncomfortable. Effectively blinded, she couldn’t sort out what he was thinking just from the side of his head.

  He didn’t respond, so she pulsed the alarm on the screen.

  Owen’s laugh was sharp and bitter sounding. “Oh, I hear and see you.” He didn’t move, still posed in the refrigerator opening, one hand resting on the corner of the upper freezer, the other gripping the door handle, knuckles standing out white and strained. “But you aren’t hearing me.”

  I hear you. You want privacy. But this impacts us both, Owen. She stared at what she’d typed out and slowly backspaced over everything except the first sentence. She sent the message and then closed the program override allowing her the level of control she’d been using. She then closed the terminal window within a remote session, and finally shut down the computer, leaving the battery in place for now, since she wouldn’t be leaving the room.

  Tablet in hand, she levered herself out of the chair, shuffling towards the bed. Eric flipped back the covers and slipped from her side back to his. She smiled at him and gratefully crawled into the heat his body left behind.

  “All done for now?” He helped with the pillows, propping them behind her back so she could rest comfortably in a semi-upright position. The pregnancy-induced reflux had been bad over the past couple of months, and they’d quickly learned that lying flat was a sure way to guarantee she’d be woken up in unpleasant ways.

  “Until Owen calls. We need to talk through some stuff, then I can be done for a while. I’ve already uploaded everything pertinent, most of which he already knows.” She glanced at Eric. “How much do you want to know about this one?”

  Eric sat silently, lips pressed tightly together. Her husband worked for the county as a prosecutor, and there had already been so many times when his ethics had him begging off from deeper knowledge about the gigs. Intellectually, he understood every effort she and Owen put forth was for the greater good, and he could and did always support her. But in an abstract way. The actual implementation of the plans was where he typically waved off more information. She trusted him implicitly, and for her it was never about whether he’d have to testify against her someday. There would be no true plausible deniability for him, not with his moral standards. Her private fears had more than once surrounded the possibility he was afraid he’d see the truth of the person she was inside. Dark, vengeance-driven Alace was a different beast from the tamed-down version curled up in his bed.

  Trying to rein in those doubts wasn’t easy, and at times like these, it was harder than others. When she was in the midst of a job, the unwavering conviction of rightness was palpable. It was what drove her forwards and enabled her to make the decisions she did without flinching. It would only be later, after the adrenaline rush was past, after things had been solved to her satisfaction, after the decisions had been made and accepted—when she’d stare at herself in the mirror and wonder what Eric saw when he looked at her.

  “Tell me everything you’re comfortable with, Alace. There are kids involved, and it’s bad, right?” She nodded, holding his gaze. “Tell me everything then. We can’t let kids be hurt.”

  Her eyes slipped closed, that word—that single, fucking, fucking word—standing out in the darkness behind her lids like a neon sign. We.

  Without questioning his sincerity, she launched into the story. “Owen and I took down a trafficking ring a few weeks ago. That was the last gig we worked.” Eric’s eyes narrowed, and she nodded. “Yeah, the one on the news. The base of operations was outside Philly, and after everything was said and done, Owen wanted to take off for a few days. It was…” She swallowed and wrinkled her nose at the bitter taste climbing the back of her throat. “Intense. But Owen saved dozens of kids. Those were only the ones they’d been holding, too. He saved countless others from the same kind of fate by not letting the bad guys walk away.”

  “You saved them, too. Don’t sell yourself short, Alace.”

  Affection for him welled up in her, and Alace blinked away sudden tears. “Don’t be nice to me right now. I can’t take it. Too many feels.” The brilliance of Eric’s grin made her laugh, which caused the baby to do a tight somersault inside her. “Oh, don’t make me laugh, either. I don’t think she likes it.” Eric caressed the swell of her belly with his palm, his touch slipping up over the curve and back again, coming to rest on top. “So, yeah, it was intense from either side of the equation. But worth everything.” She traced a fingertip along one edge of the tablet, wedging her nail into the space where the case came together. “I got into their systems before we razed the place, leaving ample information for the authorities to put things together, but I downloaded their client list, including all past auctions. I didn’t leave any information about clients, nothing but the bastards who’d been kidnapping and selling. They were all handled, so no worries about them escaping the system, you know?” She cut a glance to Eric. His gaze was fixed on her belly, but from the troubled expression he wore, she knew he wasn’t seeing her. The media had been all over the story since it broke, and broadcast images of the burned-out building included shots of the rows of cages where the kids had been kept. There’d been dozens of videos showing family reunions, complete with tears and wailing, as well as a multitude of angry questions for the various departments in charge of the investigation. Alace didn’t feel badly about how hobbled those investigators were. Not having faith in the system freed her from sharing any of the relatives’ expectations.

  “Casey Marquette is working the case.” Eric angled his face so he could look at her. “We went to school together. He reached out a few days ago asking for any pro bono hours the county or state would allow. A couple of the kids that were rescued are from here, Alace. I’m going to be working their cases
locally, taking statements, and coordinating with Casey’s office.”

  “Well, shit. I didn’t know that.” She rested the tablet on her chest and stretched out her arm. He clasped her hand, threading their fingers together. “Do you want me to stop here, then?”

  “No. If I know more, it will help me do a better job for them. I can’t use anything I learn here, but it will make me work harder.”

  “Hero complex. I love it.”

  Eric snorted. “Takes one to know one.”

  “Whatever.” She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on their connections, his hand cradling their child in her womb, fingers woven together in a tight grip. “We make a good team, Ward. I’m glad I kept you around.”

  “As if I’d have let you go.” When she glanced at him, she was pleased to see the easy expression was back on his face. “Never let you go, beloved. You’re mine. Both my babies are stuck with me.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Back on topic. You left the info on the kidnappers and folks running the ring, but not the buyers? Why?”

  “We…” She hoped the nanosecond of hesitation wasn’t apparent to Eric. It wasn’t a lack of trust in him but an ingrained sense of self-preservation that made her brain balk before admitting what she was. “Disappeared all the buyers who were on site. There were five men, and they belong to me now. Their identities, their lives, everything they had is mine. Each of them provided us with connected and well-developed personas online in the spaces where reputation is even more important than in high society. I’m going to use those to hunt for more bad guys.” His head moved up and down in a slow nod, but she could tell she hadn’t answered all his questions yet. “Their wealth funds the search. I’ve been judicious with management, and most of them had faceless agreements with financial firms, so as long as I adopt their tone and style of communication, there are no red flags. By the time anyone actually misses the sick bastards, I’ll have drained everything.”