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

by MariaLisa deMora

  Found one.

  “Soon. Very soon. I can’t be this close to someone like him and not do something.”

  “Okay.” Doc finished the label he was working on and pulled the paper from the machine, smoothing it on the end of one container. Owen read it. Chest seal. A penetrating upper-torso wound would need that type of treatment.

  “You’re planning on me getting shot?”

  “No.” Doc’s thumbs worked overtime on the next label. “I’m planning on saving your life if you do get shot.” He pulled the paper out and cut his gaze towards Owen as he separated the backing from the sticker. “There’s a difference.”

  “I found Shiloh.” Doc froze in place as if Owen’s words had the ability to pause time. “I told you about the setup the guy had at the cabin.” He needed to share this burden with someone he believed loved his kids as much as he did. “I found her.”

  Doc swiveled to face him, skin a pasty gray. “Our little girl? Did you watch—”

  “No.” Owen cut him off. “My guy took stills from the videos of the kids, the men, and the locations. Her image is in those stills, with the inside of the cabin. He’s got at least one video of our Shiloh.” His cell phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket. Alace. “I can’t—won’t—let anyone else deal with this bastard now.”

  Doc nodded, then as Owen turned towards the door, phone lifting to his ear, asked a question stopping Owen in his tracks.

  “You said there were snuff films, too. Owen, what if he’s got a video of you killing the guy?”

  “Won’t matter.” Owen glanced over his shoulder, locking gazes as he gave Doc a promise. “But if he does, I hope it made him piss himself in fear.”

  ***

  Alace

  “I right now walked in the door, so don’t complain I didn’t call you earlier.” Alace waited for Owen to chide her, surprised when he was silent. “I’d say mission accomplished, but we saw how well that went for folks in the past, so I’ll just say mission begun.” Still no reaction, and Alace frowned. “No coaching from the sidelines? Color me shocked.”

  “How did you introduce the idea Ashworth is a wife-killer?” His voice was flat, stripped bare of affect, as if he were reading from a script. Badly.

  “My focus was the prostitutes, remember?” Her memories didn’t lie; that was the direction they’d discussed earlier. “We talked about this, Owen.”

  “You’re right.” The sound of a sigh huffed through the phone. “I’ve been researching. Give me a minute to put my people hat back on.” She could almost imagine the small upturn of his lips now he was more engaged in their conversation. “So she made the leap from already seeing him as a lecherous wife-killer to a prostitute-murderer?”

  “She did, actually. I didn’t say his name or even mention the neighborhood. I kept it to rumors and talked about the timing and sequence of events as I’d uncovered them in research for a book.” Alace unclipped the baby carrier she had strapped to her chest, cradling a sleeping Lila in one arm while balancing the phone on her shoulder. “The woman is exceptionally intelligent and made specific intuitive leaps I didn’t necessarily expect.” Up the stairs, she set the diaper bag on the bedroom floor and draped the carrier over the top, taking Lila with her to the baby bed. She placed the baby in the bassinette and smiled as Lila groaned and stretched, still sleeping. “It’s later than I expected, but I’m home. You can stop worrying.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His teasing response made her grin, and she knew he’d done it on purpose. “We’ll debrief in full tomorrow. Get some rest.”

  “You, too.” She disconnected the call and turned, not surprised to find Eric in the doorway. “Owen’s being weird.”

  “I’m glad you’re home.” His soft voice was pitched to let Lila sleep. “Did the interview go well after I left?”

  She walked towards him, leaning in as his arms spread wide, circling his waist with hers as his wrapped around her tightly. Forehead propped against his chest, she let a measure of her tension seep away. “It was good. Long, but good. I think I got everything I wanted out of the deal, at least. You’re lucky you got to bail after the photo session.” The photographer had arrived at the same time as Eric, and Houghton hadn’t balked at the change in schedule.

  “Good.” He took a step backwards, then another, leading her into the hallway. “Hungry?”

  “Not tonight. I’ll double up on a good breakfast tomorrow morning.” She yawned and turned her cheek against him, closing her eyes. “You’re leading me away from the bed. I’d rather be headed that direction, you know?”

  “Oh, I’m aware.” He bent slightly and scooped her up in his arms. “I thought we could have some daddy and mommy time for ourselves.”

  “Did you now?” She leaned backwards to look up into his face. Her exhaustion had disappeared, fading away as if it had never existed. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  “I wanted a chance to kiss my wife.” He put actions to the words, effortlessly carrying her downstairs as he touched his lips to hers. “And maybe kiss her again.” Another kiss, this one longer, deeper, threaded through with a hunger she found rising in herself to match his.

  “And maybe more?” Alace ghosted her fingers up the back of his neck, relishing the crisp thickness of his hair. She gripped gently and tugged, pulling his mouth back down to hers. “More kisses?”

  “Definitely,” he murmured against her lips as he settled onto the couch. Eric adjusted Alace across his lap, leaning over her as she rested against the arm of the couch. “And then even more.”

  “Such a rule-breaker, Mr. Ward.” She slipped her hands underneath his shirt, tugging until he lifted his arms and allowed her to slide it off him. “We’re a full three days early.”

  “Is this you—” His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gripping and releasing, his tongue trailing a hot path along the side of her throat. “Wanting to wait those extra days?”

  “Not at all.” Alace arched into him, legs falling wide as he moved to cover her, elbows planted deep in the cushions on either side of her shoulders. She slipped down to lay flat on the couch as he ground their hips together firmly, letting her feel his hardness. Pleasure paired with desire to run hot through her blood, and as always, when she was in his arms, the sense of coming home was overwhelming. “Eric.”

  “Mmmm?”

  “My pants are still on.”

  “Not for long.”

  His touch grazed over her body as they kissed, fingertips drawing circles across her belly, knuckles rubbing and chafing her nipples as clothing articles were discarded. Eric settled alongside her, his body pinning hers against the back of the couch as he continued his sensuous assault. Alace’s leg bent, heel dragging against the fabric, opening to his touch. She had to stifle a moan when his thumb made a side-to-side sweep across her clit, fingers teasing along her opening.

  “Baby.” His soft voice penetrated the sexual haze occupying her mind far less potently than his fingers did her body. “Baby.” He called again, and she slit one eye open, staring up at him.

  “Mmmm?” She borrowed from his wordless reply earlier.

  “We want more kids, right?” Surfacing from the fog, she stared and nodded slowly. “You’re not worried about it being too soon, if it happens?”

  “No. Not at all.” She rolled her hips, the movement pushing his fingers inside her farther. “I’d be more upset if you stopped right now.” She slipped her hand around his neck, pulling him over her until his cock replaced his fingers. “Love me, please.”

  He dropped his head, mouth meeting hers as he thrust inside slowly, sliding deep on a single push until he ground his hips against hers.

  “I already do.”

  Hours later, Alace woke from the uneasy sleep her body had claimed after Lila’s hungry cries had pulled them both back upstairs for her bedtime nursing. She stared into the darkness, relishing the heat and firmness under her cheek and all along her side. Eric was her pillow, his arm curved around her eve
n in his sleep, their legs tangled together underneath the covers.

  Owen was weird.

  The thought kept circling through her brain, reasons and justification for his oddness bouncing back and forth. He hadn’t been peculiar or different earlier when she was over there. Not even with Doc in the room, a stressor she’d expected them both to react to, but they hadn’t.

  Something had happened between when she’d left for the interview and when she’d called to tell him the outcome.

  Alace glanced over Eric’s chest to where his phone was docked, the time writ in large digits on the face.

  Too early to call Owen.

  Not too early to see what he was looking at.

  She eased out of Eric’s hold, his arm tightening around her briefly as he fought to keep her close, even in his sleep. His unconscious desire for her was one of her favorite things, reminding her every day that his love wasn’t surface and fleeting. Somehow, through their time together, Eric had become her bedrock, the solid land she retreated to at every chance, and the stable foundation her happiness aligned with.

  With her desk still in their bedroom, she didn’t have far to go, retrieving the laptop from the secure drawer and reassembling it, then able to check on Lila as the computer booted. Headphones in place, she slipped into her seat, hooking her toes around the legs of the caster base.

  Months ago, she and Owen had agreed on their version of a dead man’s switch. A way for the other to see electronic activity if there were a need, something to protect both of them if there were a disruption in communication for any reason. This wasn’t a disruption, not exactly. But still, a need.

  The digital trail was anonymized, which meant only the person authorized to retrace the online steps of a given account would know whose activity they were reading. She’d spared no expense in the original setup, and both she and Owen had enhanced it as ideas came to them. All this meant was, within moments, she had his entire online history for the previous day in front of her, even the secured elements typically obscured with randomized IP addresses and masked VPN connections.

  Their exposure of activity didn’t include access to the individual machines or secure email accounts. But seeing he’d received two messages via a work board, it didn’t take her long to slip into the account of the sender, finding his deleted messages to Owen and quickly restoring and moving them to an account unique to her.

  They’d talked about the research Owen had done into the Kuellen gig, so the shared document she’d saved down wasn’t a surprise. It held information validating everything she’d found, providing the same percentage of positive identifications for the kids in the videos.

  An icon on her toolbar pulsed red, and Alace switched her view to the local machine, logging into the online dropbox it monitored. August had dropped a note into his folder with information about his arrival in Colorado.

  Alace quickly opened the shared document she used with her hunter and found he was still online and waiting. She typed out a second modification in instructions and details, holding back the information about the interview. He didn’t need to know the particulars about why the gig was delayed by a couple more days. As long as he trusted her to keep him safe, she’d focus the communications on the active part of the gig.

  Her cursor hovered over the disconnect, watching as he typed in an acknowledgment and his on-the-fly change of plans. Normally she’d leave the rudimentary chat without a goodbye, but something Owen had said to her echoed through her head. “You think people don’t care because you don’t let them close. If you give others even half of what you’ve given me, I think they’d surprise you.”

  Did you enjoy your time with your daughter?

  Kids were probably a safe topic, even if families as a whole might not be. She waited, watching as the cursor indicating August’s active presence blinked at the end of his last update to the document. Then it moved down slowly, line by line until he’d created a new paragraph underneath her question.

  I did. She loves the ocean. It was nice to be able to give her something she enjoyed.

  Alace huffed a frustrated sigh. It was the slightest of openings, not anything with real meat on it for her to leverage into a longer conversation. Now I’m the one wanting to have a conversation? Owen would probably say she was adrift in opposite world.

  Water seems to be a kid magnet.

  That was truth, at least. Lila certainly loved her bath time, nestled safely in the tiny tub of warm, sudsy water. August didn’t know about Lila, though, and now she knew a little more about his daughter, which meant it felt like not telling him was edging into territory around untruths.

  My daughter—Alace paused there for a long moment, the racing beat of her heart loud in her ears, drowning out the musical white noise she’d been listening to—loves the bath.

  His cursor moved down faster this time, skipping past her two new lines and planting itself solidly on the next.

  I didn’t know you had a daughter. What’s her name? How old is she?

  I did this to myself, she thought, wondering at the tiny pulse of excitement that came with talking about the newest love in her life.

  Lila, she’s almost six weeks old. Lila Sue.

  A bloom of warmth in her chest coincided with typing out her daughter’s name, a reaction Alace catalogued for later consideration.

  Congratulations, Alace. Babies are the biggest blessing in our lives. I hope you both are doing well. Lila Sue is a great name, very lyrical.

  His response was immediate and validating in a way she didn’t know she needed. Lyrical? Was August into reading, or maybe writing—like her alter ego?

  Thank you. I think she’s pretty special. I’m sure you feel the same about your daughter.

  Alace searched her mind for his daughter’s name. She knew it was in his portfolio, but not having it on the tip of her tongue felt like a failure somehow.

  For sure, Addison is my heart. Congratulations again, Alace. Addison, right. His typing stopped, but the cursor advanced a space, then withdrew, as if he’d begun typing something else and then backspaced before continuing. It advanced again. I’d be honored if I could give my best wishes in person while in Colo.

  She understood his hesitancy. They’d met once, as she’d done with all her recruits, in a place and time of her choosing. She’d trusted him immediately, something about his personality matching his physical form, solid and sturdy.

  I’d like that. We’ll set a time. Keep me updated on your location. I should have more info soon about when we move on Ashworth. Might be worth a run by tonight, just to scope the neighborhood.

  Just like that, they were back on the information about the gig, and Alace breathed deep, pushing out tension on her exhale. I can do this. She’d never be able to tell Owen he was right, though. He’d never let her hear the end of it.

  Sounds good. I can do that. See you soon.

  Alace exited the document without responding, disconnecting from that server and returning to the other remote session.

  She opened the second piece of information the researcher had sent to Owen and skimmed through, freezing about halfway down the document.

  The man’s face was familiar, immediately recognizable as the mark Owen had eliminated on the East Coast. He was shown in four entries, all kids. Three of them were boys, no older than Kelly, their faces wrecked with maltreatment they’d suffered layered on top of emotional and physical overload. The fourth was a little girl she’d already come to love.

  I guess I know what tweaked Owen now.

  Chapter Ten

  Owen

  Hands steady, Owen teased at the tumblers with his pick, the steel rod passing tiny vibrations through to his fingers until he knew he could feel all the pins lined up correctly. With a quick twist, he opened the now-unlocked door and stepped soundlessly inside.

  His prep had been hurried and rudimentary, not something he would ever have allowed another operative to settle for, but it was only his ass on the l
ine, and he was covered. Enough. Barely.

  The layout of the structure had been easily memorized. Accounting for the smaller blueprint footprint, as with the house Owen shared with Doc, the entire living space was on the main floor, with a medium-sized basement as a sub-floor. Kitchen and dining room butted up against the living room, with the bedrooms branching off a short hallway that led to and from the door through which Owen had come. The bathroom and laundry area were spaced out along the hallway too, along with a small closet.

  There had been no construction permits issued indicating changes to the house since Kuellen had purchased it, and the few things Owen had taken the time to check didn’t lead him to any different conclusions. Other than the excessive electricity load and the business-worthy size of the Internet connection, it was just another small house in a tidy subdivision, perched on a corner of intersecting streets. Nothing that stood out against his neighbors.

  It could be anyone who lived there.

  Evil didn’t usually have a calling card.

  Owen closed the door behind him, still pausing at the entryway. He listened, but other than a noisy fan on the refrigerator, there were no sounds in the house. If he didn’t know the man was home, he’d be questioning his own intelligence gathering skills.

  Carefully treading close to the walls, he made his way up the hallway, pausing only for a moment in front of the open bedroom door. Light seeped in around the blinds, not much, but enough to show the empty bed, covers tidily straightened. With the entire house darkened, he knew if Kuellen wasn’t in bed, the man had to be downstairs. In his porn pen. He scowled as he checked the rest of the house, finding it as empty as he’d expected.

  If Kuellen was downstairs, Owen was effectively blind. He’d strapped on the subvocal microphone setup he and Alace had used in the past, more out of habit than any wild expectation that she’d dial in. He cursed at himself. If he wasn’t running a cowboy operation, he’d have ample resources at his beck and call.