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

by MariaLisa deMora

  Daddy.

  Tugging on his hand brought him back to himself. Kelly’s expression was frightened, panicked, his attempts to steer Owen back towards the car laughable. Except that was endearing in its own way, this little weighs-nothing kid, trying to take care of Owen by getting him out of the public eye.

  “I’m okay.” That was the first direct lie he’d told Kelly, and it burned his throat like fire. He deliberately clipped the tip of his tongue with his teeth, hard enough to beat back the overwhelming emotions threatening to crush him. A little discomfort is nothing to what this kid’s endured. He couldn’t let Kelly down. “Let’s go get what we need.” Kelly studied him, head tipped to one side, the intensity of his gaze laying Owen bare. It took effort, but he smoothed his expression, deliberately erasing any discomfort or worry from his face. “I’m good, Kelly. It’s okay.”

  He had been tripped up by how far Kelly had been willing to take their little farce. Calling him Daddy hadn’t been in the script, but he could see where it made sense and understood why it offered the perfect camouflage. “Seriously, you were perfect. Let’s go get Shiloh and the others some clothing.” The clothing had been Kelly’s first suggestion after Owen had talked to him last night about the plan. Shiloh would be far more comfortable coming with Owen if Kelly were with him to vouch for his integrity, and all the children deserved to immediately start taking back their humanity. “Remember the story we’re building.”

  “I remember. We’re a family, a normal family.” Kelly’s smile wavered, but it was there. “A pretend family.”

  Fuck, that stings. Owen nodded, responding and rephrasing just enough so the words didn’t make him nauseous, “You and me and Shiloh, we’re gonna be family. Family sticks together.” Owen was getting too deep and knew it, could see it now, how he’d already attached to the boy in unhealthy ways. Unhealthy for him at least. Kelly was getting a little bit of what he needed, probably had always needed, and Owen would turn himself inside out to keep giving it to him, no matter if it would kill him to eventually give the boy and his not-yet-met sister over to the authorities. An act which would only happen once Owen had a chance to run the dirty cop to the ground, the one who had ripped the siblings from their foster home and sold them into torment. Owen had told Kelly his plans, the high-level version of them anyway, and the boy had looked relieved that Owen not only believed him but had planned on making certain the kids would be safe before he threw them back into the system. Right now though, he had to immerse himself in the role of Kelly’s not-pretend family to move either mission forwards. “So let’s go get your sister that outfit she wants.”

  Inside the store, Owen was careful to keep his head angled away from the cameras. Not in a way that would trigger any security personnel who might be actively watching the feed, but more like a parent focused on their child, that downward position keeping the cameras from capturing anything other than an oblique profile.

  Owen faltered as they reached the little girl section of the clothing options. The leggings and shirt Kelly held up were so small, so tiny, so much like something Emma would have worn—Owen had to take a moment to simply breathe through the pain that was never far away, pretending to study the offerings. Voice unexpectedly gruff, he told Kelly, “Those look good. You think they’ll be the right size?” At Kelly’s nod, he grabbed a package of underwear and socks to match, then a pair of easy slip-on shoes, holding them up for Kelly’s approval. Nearly as an afterthought, he grabbed a booster seat for Shiloh, willfully ignoring the seeming permanence of the item. A single man didn’t buy booster seats; that was something a real father would do. Or a favorite uncle. I can be a favorite uncle. He breathed in pain, breathed out a forced peace as he told himself a lie. It’s the law, that’s all. It’s just because it’s the law.

  The other children would have less individualized choices for dressing after the mission concluded. Owen selected bulk packages of shirts with muted colors and similar options for some nondescript shorts. They’d be modestly covered, but if curious authorities attempted to look into the origin of the clothing they’d have a hard time pinpointing this specific store, since the same mass-produced articles were sold in literally hundreds of stores within fifty miles.

  At the front of the store, Owen was scanning the items through the self-check area when he caught Kelly staring at the candy display with a longing expression. Leaning down, he put his mouth close to Kelly’s ear. “If you and Shiloh have a favorite, grab one, and you can share it afterwards on our way home. Just one, though. Do you remember how your stomach wasn’t happy with the food that first day?” Kelly nodded, the scent of shampoo and boy wafting over Owen. “We don’t want to make Shiloh sick on her first day out.” Kelly’s hand hovered over a package of a popular peanut butter candy, and Owen gave him a nudge. “Get it, bud. It’ll be your celebration with her.” Kelly’s grip was so tight, Owen knew the candy was a mushed mess. He didn’t scold, didn’t offer anything other than grabbing a second bar, double scanning it so both were accounted for in the order total. When Kelly glanced up at him, he shrugged. “I might be hungry later.” This way the kids would have one unmangled option.

  Walking out to the car, Owen tripped when Kelly grabbed his hand, the boy’s grip twining around his index finger. Kelly’s head was tucked down, gaze fixed on their feet, and Owen studied him for the space of two strides. Fear rolled off the boy. Not a fear of Owen, but perhaps…a fear of rejection? Without missing a step, he reached down and grabbed the boy under the arms, swinging him up and astride his back. With a tiny cry, Kelly’s thin arms wrapped around Owen’s throat, latched on tight. Owen balanced the boy and the bags, giving a skipping bump every few steps to jostle Kelly. Finally, right before they arrived at the car, the boy giggled, and Owen’s eyes sank closed in a slow blink.

  Benediction.

  Worth everything.

  The trip went quickly, the droning of the tires interspersed by muted melodies from the radio. Kelly was asleep within half an hour of them leaving the store and dozed intermittently through the afternoon and evening. Owen used the time to continue his network searches. He’d thought to bring the subvocal rig with him that he and Alace had grown accustomed to using, and found it worked perfectly for the kind of tasks he had to do. Paired with the glasses, he had a heads-up display of not only what he was seeking, but what the responses were. All without Kelly hearing a thing.

  As he zeroed in on the compound location, Owen sent Eric a text. It had been hours since he’d spoken to them last, but his hindbrain reminded him it was common knowledge that first babies took longer.

  How goes it?

  In response, he got an image that didn’t translate through the rig, so he scanned around for the telltale glint of reflections, and not finding any visible police waiting for speeders, went ahead and picked up the phone and thumbed to the text app.

  Alace lay on her side in a hospital bed, her body curled around a tiny pink blanket that had the cutest baby face peeking out, button nose framed by chubby cheeks worthy of a dozen gentle kisses. Her entire focus was on the child, and the intent expression of rapt adoration on her face took Owen’s breath away.

  Lila Sue Ward, 7lb 3oz, 21in – Mom and baby are doing well.

  Owen had to swallow back his tears before he could manage a response, starting over twice when the microphone wouldn’t pick up everything he wanted to say. Finally he got the message right and sent it.

  That’s a beautiful family right there. You’re a lucky man, Eric Ward. Congratulations.

  He rested the phone on his leg, hands back on the steering wheel, and let his gaze fix at the farthest reach of the headlights sweeping through the deepening twilight.

  His Emma’s middle name had been Sue. There’s no way Alace could know. No doubt it was Eric’s grandmother’s name or something along those lines. Owen had worked hard to keep that part of his past private and was confident Alace had never stumbled on those details. His darknet persona that she’d first approa
ched held the event in Central America as his breaking point, which it had been, no doubt.

  What wasn’t documented for that profile, or any of his others, was the mission before that one.

  A sign came into view, and Owen flicked on his turn signal as he glanced in the mirror. Zero traffic on the road around him. Perfect. He was within eleven miles of the compound. Time to set the next pieces into motion.

  Once off the highway, he identified the private road easily enough, lax chain suspended in a deep swoop across the rough, dirt-rutted lane. It was the work of moments to pick the lock, and he half secured it behind him, slipping the shackle of the padlock through the chain but without snapping the toe into place, making it easier to leave than arrive. Half the distance to the compound by his odometer, Owen found the clearing he’d marked on his map. The area had been exposed to enough sunshine during the day to leave the ground firm and provided ample cover to make hiding the vehicle simple. He backed the car off the lane and in between two trees, pleased with both the positioning and spacing.

  Before exiting the car, he opened his laptop and turned on the satellite Wi-Fi device, having to wait only a breath before everything was connected. The imagery he’d requested was ready, and Owen quickly paged through the pictures of the compound. Taken less than half an hour ago, the photos showed the man’s truck was parked exactly where expected. From the high-resolution pictures, Owen was able to find the protective enclosure Kelly had talked about, where the power supply for the restrictive electric fence was stored. Owen easily made out the shapes of what looked like a dozen kids sleeping with as many dogs, all scattered in the dirt around the bottom of the front porch.

  He stared at the image for so long the tablet dimmed, threatening to go into hibernation mode. Shaking himself, he closed the photo, went to the secure VPN connection, and logged in to access the subnet he used to dig through the Internet’s underbelly. Cursing when he saw a note from his service seller, he scowled at the message. One of his orders had been delayed, but he should be assured it was on its way. The guy had upgraded the package, and that had made up some of the lost time, which might mean he shouldn’t be running much past his intended timeline after all.

  Selecting the icon for his tablet, he began the process of downloading the controllers for the new drone currently headed blindly to a set of coordinates he’d provided the seller. It was a lease only, time purchased on a military-grade eight-prop model that could hover in steady mode nearly forever. That was one critical piece for the mission. The ability to broadcast a prerecorded sound at a specific decibel level was another. Once the software download finished, Owen opened the controller app and found the drone was preauthorized for the tablet’s MAC address, exactly as he’d requested. It would mean having to ditch the tablet afterwards, but the security was worth it. No one could hack into the drone while he was controlling it. Not even Alace. His grin faded quickly, the memory of that beautiful photo shimmering before his eyes.

  Owen hadn’t been around when Emma was born. She’d already turned six months old the first time he’d laid eyes on her. But he suspected if someone had recorded the moment he’d seen and recognized his daughter, the expression on his face would have mirrored that on Alace’s. The ex-girlfriend hadn’t wanted the baby, and Owen knew he’d been lucky she had allowed the pregnancy to go to term. I might never have had Emma. Would that have been better? He’d posed the same question to himself innumerable times over the years, always coming down on the side of having her, even if for such a short time.

  The device in his hands vibrated, bringing his attention back to the screen. The drone was within range, which meant it was time to start the next phase of the plan. He keyed in a command, waited for the acceptance code, and minimized the controller, locking the tablet. Once out of the car, he opened the trunk and eyed the equipment he’d packed before leaving home. Mental list verified, he began preparing. The tablet was the first item to be secured, fitting into a holder sewn inside his chest protector, accessible via a silent button closure. Other items had hook and loop closures, and he carefully applied them so there’d be no chance of accidental release and subsequent noise. Once geared up, Owen used his fingerprint to unlock the under-trunk gun safe, retrieving the weaponry he’d previously decided upon. He stared down and hesitated, fingers trailing across a new gun Alace had gifted him with recently. She’s my good luck charm. If Alace couldn’t be in his head for this mission, the gun would still make him feel connected. It was the work of moments to swap out the guns, since they used the same ammunition, and he released a steadying breath once he had the new one settled in the holster.

  Only when he was locked, loaded, and ready to go did he return to the passenger cabin of the car. He gazed inside where Kelly lay sleeping on the seat, measuring several of the slow, deep breaths of air the boy was taking. Curled underneath a warm blanket, clean, fed, safe—Kelly appeared to be a far cry away from the condition in which Owen had met him. I’ve made a difference. Squatting down in the space created by the opened door, he refused to follow that train of thought, cutting off any ideas about the future with brutal efficiency.

  “Kelly.” With that single word, the boy’s stillness changed, shifting from easy relaxation to unmoving tension, breaths coming quick and shallow, dark eyes glittering behind that damned fall of hair. “It’s time for us to start.” With a flurry of abrupt movements, the boy shoved himself up and against the far door, staring across the space at Owen. Kelly scrubbed at his face with both palms as Owen asked, “Do you remember your part?”

  Kelly sniffed hard, his mouth twisting. “Yeah. First thing is I hafta wait for twenty minutes.” He shoved out an arm, showing Owen the watch that had been one of their purchases. “There’s a timer. Then I put on the backpack and follow you down the road.” He pointed out the front windshield at the two-rut track Owen had driven into the woods, the one that led to the cabin. “My job is to get Shiloh. I’ve got a blanket and some clothes for her in the backpack. I’m supposed to bring her here to the car. If no one sees me, it’s better, but if she and I need to hide and wait, we will. You won’t leave us behind. You’ll find us.”

  Owen nodded slowly. Before the idea of including Kelly in the rescue, the main worry had been how to get Shiloh home to Kelly without further traumatizing the little girl. If it had been a shorter trip, he would have made different plans, but knowing there would be hours before they’d be back at his house, the only real option had been bringing Kelly along for her comfort.

  “I’ll kill the batteries before I go inside the wire, but none of the kids will know.” Owen bared his teeth. That was a critical piece of information it had taken him nearly too long to tease out of Kelly. If the collars carried any kind of alert when the fence went down, the kids would scatter before Owen could control the situation. The risk of any of them being injured by a panicked flight through the dark woods and suffering hypothermia—or worse—simply wouldn’t happen with this approach. “That gives you an opportunity to find Shiloh and make a break back to the car before any of them realize what’s going on.”

  “What if he has something inside that tells him something’s wrong?” Kelly’s deep frown and expression of concentration would have been cute if the situation hadn’t been so dire. The boy was trying to think around corners and help concoct a strategy, and Kelly’s instinctive involvement in creating a solution made Owen’s throat close a little. Kid just needs a chance at a normal life. “Won’t he know you’re coming then?”

  “I expect he does. But I’ve got a device that will keep the monitoring system alive, not showing a fault on the line at all. The dogs won’t be barking, either. He won’t know I’m coming until I’m inside his cabin.” Owen shrugged, the coat he’d put on over his rig settling into place. “If any kids see me coming, they won’t sound an alarm, either. Not with what I’ll be wearing.” He hadn’t shown it to Kelly, but after he’d described the mask he’d worn at the warehouse auction takedown a couple of weeks ag
o, the boy had cringed and nodded, exhibiting well-remembered fear associated with the image. The mask and accompanying bad associations should serve to manage the kids at least long enough to allow Owen entry to the cabin. The drone would control the dogs, emitting a persistent ultrasonic sound that would confuse and distract them. The drone would also provide an infrared view of the cabin and surrounding area, for Owen’s review after he had Earl Warrant under control.

  Twenty minutes wasn’t long, but he had confidence he could both insert himself and gain the upper hand in that time period. Then he’d give Kelly half an hour to retrieve Shiloh and regain the security of the car. Only once he had seen the two kids inside the vehicle again would he deal with Warrant.

  Just like not showing Kelly the mask kept Owen from turning into one of the monsters, hiding the truth of his actions from the boy would help preserve a little bit of that faith the kid seemed to have in him. Owen wasn’t willing to give it up yet. He needed to know he’d still have Kelly’s respect at the end of the day.

  “Okay, bud. Sounds like we’re ready to roll.” He held out a fist and Kelly bumped his knuckles against Owen’s. “Set the timer now.” As Kelly ducked his head, looking at the watch, Owen extended a hand and tenderly tousled the boy’s hair. “See you soon,” he promised, then pressed the car door closed quietly, waiting for Kelly to look up, giving the boy’s upraised thumb a nod.

  Striding up the road, he ran through the plan again in his mind as he slipped gloves on each hand. Given the lane was in regular use by a heavy vehicle, he didn’t have to worry about IEDs, allowing him to make good time. He retrieved the tablet and keyed it back up, checking on the drone video stream. The device was now in position over the cabin, and the image showed a tight ring of dark forest surrounding the clearing. Sending the drone higher, he allowed it to hover there until he saw his figure coming into range in the distance. There were no other heat signatures of any note nearby, so he brought the drone back down to the optimal height and studied the forms of the children and dogs.