by Tara Thomas
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About the Author
Copyright Page
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Prologue
He strolled along the cobblestone path, his casual step a stark contrast to the energy pulsing through his body. He didn’t look at anyone, but rather kept his attention focused on the path before him.
Numerous questions ran through his head. Why had The Gentleman called him so soon after the last delivery? Was there a problem with the package? Surely he didn’t require another one so soon. But damn, what if he did? The last one was a struggle to deliver and he’d been hopeful it would have lasted longer than three weeks.
“Hey, watch it.”
He stepped back just in time to narrowly miss being mowed down by a student on a bicycle. The near miss made his heart beat even faster and he shook himself, knowing he needed all of his mental capacities for where he was going. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his brow, cursing the humidity of July in Charleston.
Paying closer attention to his surroundings, he turned down a side street and walked up to the house with the horrible monkey door knocker. Fortunately, he didn’t have to touch the monstrosity because, as always, the door opened before he had a chance to knock.
The man who opened the door was also familiar, but he’d never been given the butler’s name. In fact, the man had never spoken a word in all the times he’d visited. He would simply stand there, his ebony skin in sharp contrast to his spotless white uniform, looking him up and down, as if the cat dropped a half-eaten bird on the porch. Then he’d nod and turn to walk down the hall, never once looking back to ensure he was being followed.
They came to a stop before a set of wooden doors. After a quick knock, and the “Enter” given in reply, he was shown inside the main meeting room. He knew his guide wouldn’t follow him, but would wait outside to escort him back to civilization when the meeting was finished.
The Gentleman stood with his back to him. Once, he’d asked The Gentleman why he never turned around. His answer had been a deep chuckle and a softly spoken, “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
“You asked me to come this afternoon, sir,” he stated, which was stupid, but then again, so was talking to someone’s back.
“The last delivery was unacceptable,” The Gentleman said, confirming his fear.
“I was sure this last one was sturdy,” he said, his voice only cracking at the end. It was neither an apology nor an outright challenge. He wasn’t stupid. He coughed. “Surprising it didn’t last three weeks.”
Silence was his only answer, but then again he hadn’t asked a question.
He shifted from foot to foot. Shit. He didn’t want to make The Gentleman angry, but damn. Still, he knew as long as he talked to the guy’s back, he was fine. It was if the man ever turned around that he’d be in serious trouble. Or that was the rumor, anyway.
“The last delivery was unacceptable,” The Gentlemen repeated.
His fingers itched to take his handkerchief and wipe his brow again, but he refrained. The Gentleman might have his back to him, but he knew he was being watched. He could not show fear.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll see what I can do about getting a replacement. Maybe by the end of the month . . .”
“Try again.”
He figured as much, but he thought he may as well try. “Sir.”
“Next week.”
Next week? That was going to be nearly impossible, but he could tell The Gentleman wasn’t going to take kindly to hearing that. He swallowed his sigh and said, “Yes, sir. Next week.”
“Very good. And, a word of warning: the Charleston PD has a plant at a certain popular club.”
He not only knew that, he knew who it was. “Not a problem, sir,” he said. “I’ve got it under control.” But it was a lie because he didn’t have it under control, and he had no idea what he was going to do about it.
“Very good. That’s what I like to hear.”
A small sense of relief started to weave its way through him. Maybe, he would be able to leave soon. The whole house gave him the creeps. He would much rather take his chances at the club, even with the police plant, than stay in this house for a minute longer than necessary.
He waited for the door behind him to open and for the other man to lead him outside. But there was nothing. He looked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t missed it. Why wasn’t the door opening? When he turned back around, it was almost as if he could sense The Gentleman smiling.
“Before you leave,” he said. “There’s the matter of the unacceptable package to deal with.”
He grit his teeth, knowing it would do no good to argue. He hated this part of his job. Whom was he kidding? He hated all parts of his job. He was just buried too deep inside to get out now. Damn gambling addiction. And damn himself for thinking he’d ever be free. Truthfully, he only had himself to blame. No one forced him to get half a million in debt.
Though he felt the weight of what he was getting ready to do and what he had already done, he forced himself to put on a neutral face. “Where is it?”
The Gentleman laughed. “You think I have it here? The body is being delivered to your house as we speak. Deal with it.”
Chapter One
Janie Roberts figured she had about three minutes’ worth of patience left before she vaulted over the bar and smashed something over the head of the guy currently trying every cheesy line he knew in an attempt to get her number. She eyed the shelf behind her, mentally calculating the price of liquor in each opened bottle. She’d have to use something cheap since it was doubtful the Charleston PD would allow her to expense it.
Unfortunately, she was working undercover and if she started breaking bottles, the bar would probably kick her out on her ass. Serial kidnapper or not.
“Damn, honey,” the half-drunk dweeb tried again. “You are H-O-T, hot. Why don’t you come over here and warm me up?”
She considered complimenting his spelling, but discarded that idea almost immediately. No doubt her sarcasm would be lost on him in his current state. She opened her mouth to tell him no, again, when a man she’d served a beer to about an hour earlier stepped in between her and the hardheaded drunk.
“Seriously, man,” he said, with a nod in her direction. “Have some pride. She said no. Many times.”
Drunk Guy looked like someone had kicked his puppy, but Janie hardened her scowl and put on her best don’t mess with me face.
“But . . .” he said with a hiccup.
Her white knight crossed his arms and shook his head as the lights in the club dimmed slightly. Janie nearly laughed. He towered over Drunk Guy. Heck, he looked as if he could snap him in half with that icy glare alone.
Drunk Guy hiccuped again, sized up his competition, and turned away. He half stumbled toward the back of the club where dancing was getting ready to start.
When she was certain he was gone and wasn’t going to come back, Janie faced the guy who’d run him off.
“Thank you so much,” Janie said, taking the time to get a good look at the guy. Earlier, when she’d ser
ved him, the crowd at the bar had been too thick for her to pay attention to anything other than his drink order.
He was classically handsome in the guy-next-door look. Of course, she had no idea where that phrase came from; none of her neighbors had ever been half as good-looking. His hair was a messy, dirty blond, and his eyes were a warm brown. She estimated him to be a few years older than her twenty-nine because he had a few laugh lines barely visible. On another man, they might have aged him, but it only added to his character and they painted him as someone who enjoyed life.
“It’s no trouble,” he said. “Truly.”
“He must have heard the Aristophanes quote and thought by being drunk he was being clever.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “You mean, ‘Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever’?”
Now it was her turn to be surprised. “You know Aristophanes?”
His laugh was soft and seductive. “I could ask you the same.”
“Theater minor.”
“Ah,” he said in understanding. “I spent several summers in Greece with my grandparents.”
His response flustered her a bit. Spent summers in Greece? Who did that? But he, apparently, thought nothing of it as he tipped his glass back and drained what was left.
“Let me get you a refill.” She nodded toward the empty glass in his hand. “Stout, right?”
“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary.”
“It may not be necessary, but you probably saved my job. Before you showed up, I was trying to decide which bottle would be the least likely to get me fired if I busted it over that guy’s head.”
His smile was back. “I can’t turn you down when you put it like that.”
She took his glass to refill, watching him from the corner of her eyes as she poured him another beer. He leaned casually against the bar, but she had the underlying feeling it was a rouse. The air around him pulsed with a restrained energy.
The realization was enough to shock her back into the reality of her situation. She wasn’t here to flirt or meet men. She was working the bar in an attempt to discover information on the disappearances of several young women while they were working at the club. And something about him suddenly had alarm bells going off in her head. The way he stood, perhaps. Confident. Self-assured. Or maybe the way his eyes swept over the club, always watching. Definitely not typical.
No matter. She’d been a cop long enough to know not to ignore those warning bells.
She schooled her features before turning to hand him the beer.
“Thank you,” he said, taking the offered glass. “Will I be too much like the guy I chased off if I ask your name?”
“Janie Roberts.” She didn’t offer to shake his hand since she’d picked up a dishrag as soon as he’d taken the glass from her.
“Brent Taylor,” he said, and she couldn’t stop the little gasp she gave when she recognized his name. She thought he looked a bit disappointed that she knew who he was.
“Thank you again, Mr. Taylor.” She had spent enough time talking to him; there were other customers to attend to. And she didn’t miss the manager on duty standing not too far away with his arms crossed and giving her that look. The I don’t care if the Charleston PD wants you here, when you’re behind my bar, you’re to be working look.
Brent nodded, probably catching sight of the manager’s expression. “I’m going to head out. Hope to see you again soon.”
He was gone before she could reply. Shaking her head, she shifted her attention to the men waiting for her to take their orders.
* * *
Two hours later, Janie groaned as the last club patron left and the door was locked behind them.
“Talk about a long night,” Tilly, one of the club’s waitresses, said as she slid onto a barstool beside Janie.
Janie enjoyed talking with Tilly, who was young, vivacious, and funny. Normally she tried to stay emotionally detached when she worked undercover, but Tilly had the type of personality that naturally drew people to her. All except one person, Janie hoped. Tilly didn’t fit the profile of the women the kidnapper was focusing on. So far, he seemed to target blondes with little to no family, and only one had an education beyond high school. Tilly was certainly pretty with her wide blue eyes set against her light brown skin and wavy dark hair, but she didn’t fit the profile. Except, she didn’t have any family.
“You can say that again,” Janie said. “I think it was the busiest since I started.”
“I did happen to notice a few men with an interest in hanging out by the bar,” Tilly teased.
“The drunk guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer?”
“Not only him, but the blond guy, too.”
Her white knight in shining armor, who just happened to be a well-known philanthropist. “Brent Taylor?”
Recognition flashed in Tilly’s eyes, even though she said, “Oh, I don’t know his name. I just thought he was very interested in you.”
Interesting. But Janie played along. “From what I’ve heard, he’s the biggest playboy in the South. He’s a trust-fund baby.” As soon as she said the words, it struck her that this might be the man they were looking for. Well-educated. Wealthy. Good-looking. Come to think of it, he fit every item the profiler had told her to look for. Could he also be the type to enjoy playing the double life? Magnanimous on one hand, calculated killer on the other?
Was it possible he thought himself above the law and went about kidnapping women to prove it? She’d seen it happen before, particularly among the very wealthy. It was almost as if they saw other people as beneath them.
In the last year, six women had gone missing. Four had some sort of tie to this club. Janie had been the first person to connect the dots and when her boss asked her to go undercover three weeks ago, she’d jumped at the chance. She was also trying to find a link between the club and the other two girls.
Her mind drifted back to the feeling she’d had in the bar earlier.
Well, damn.
Was he the reason behind the disappearance of so many women? It made her sick to her stomach just thinking about it.
“Hey.” Tilly waved her hand in front of her eyes. “Are you there? What happened?”
“Nothing. Just thinking of some things I need to take care of when I get home.”
“This late at night?”
She knew for a fact Tilly was in school. “Don’t give me that look. I know somebody who’s going to home and study for about three hours before they turn in.”
“Guilty.”
“Are you two going to stay here all night?” the manager asked. “Or do you plan on leaving sometime in the near future?”
Tilly grabbed her purse and Janie’s hand. “We’re leaving.”
Chapter Two
“Run that by me one more time,” Alyssa, her friend and coworker, requested after Janie gave her the high-level details of the night before.
Janie sighed and excused herself to Alyssa’s kitchen where she poured herself another cup of coffee. “You want it all or just the highlights?” She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. Unfortunately, after spending the night before wide awake, unable to shut her brain off, she wasn’t sure it was possible.
“I’m sorry.” Alyssa followed behind her. “But Brent Taylor?” She asked like it would make far more sense for the kidnapper to be the vice president of the United States. Hell, it probably would.
“I know he’s done a lot for the city.” At Alyssa’s lifted eyebrow, Janie conceded, “And for the state of South Carolina. But you have to agree, if you were going to get your hands dirty by kidnapping women, it wouldn’t hurt to have a stellar reputation for being one of the most charitable men in the South. Besides, usually it is someone with power and they end up exerting that power in unsavory ways.”
Alyssa didn’t say anything, so she continued. “It’s always the people you least expect. You never hear the next-door neighbor saying,
‘I could tell he was a whack job the moment I laid eyes on him. Everyone knew he was batshit crazy and it was only a matter of time before he snapped.’”
At least that got a hint of a smile out her friend.
“Admit it,” Janie said. “You know I’m right.”
“I’ll admit it does happen like that most of the time. But,” Alyssa added before Janie could gloat, “you know we get plenty of calls from neighbors who just plain despise each other. In fact, I think it’s about time for old man Green to call and ask if he can have his neighbor’s dog arrested for trespassing.
Since Janie had been called to Green’s home more often than she cared to remember when she was new on the force, she had to admit there was truth behind Alyssa’s statement as well.
“I think it’s wise not to let Brent Taylor’s reputation cloud your judgement,” Alyssa said. “But make sure he’s not the only one you’re keeping your eye on.”
Janie would have been offended if she thought Alyssa was telling her how to do her job, but she knew it was only her friend’s personality. Deciding to turn the topic away from Brent Taylor as a suspect, she sighed. “It’ll be hard to keep my eyes on any other man. Do you know how hot that guy is?”
“Brent Taylor?” Alyssa’s forehead wrinkled and Janie nodded. “Only from what I can tell from pictures. I’ve never had the privilege of seeing him up close and personal.”
“See what up close and personal?” Alyssa’s boyfriend, Mack, strolled into the kitchen, swiped an apple from the fruit bowl at her elbow, and gave her a quick kiss. Janie couldn’t help but feel just a little jealous.
“Nothing.” Alyssa smiled and pushed a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. “Just girl talk. You heading out?”
“Yeah.” Mack frowned. “But I’ll make it quick. Meeting your cousin for dinner at seven, right?”
Alyssa nodded, and both women watched as Mack walked away.
“I’ve said it before,” Janie said. “You got one of the last great men.”