Ace of Spades (Aces & Eights Book 3)

by Sandra Owens

  “We need to get this little one home so we can get going.” He pried Annie’s hands from around his neck, then handed her to Taylor. “I’ll wait in the car. If we both go in, we’ll never make it to our meeting in time.”

  “True. Come here, sweet Annie. I think Rosie has your breakfast ready. Tell Nate bye.”

  “Bye-bye,” Annie said, waving to him as she was carried away.

  Nate waved back before sliding into his car. Coming here with Taylor was a bad idea, something he needed to put a stop to. It put silly ideas in his head, made him wonder what it would be like to have a family. He wasn’t family material. What if the rage simmering inside him took control and he turned into his father? He’d looked it up. Twenty-five to thirty-five percent of abused children grew up to be abusers themselves. Although those weren’t alarming odds, how did one know if they were going to be one of the twenty-five percenters? It was a risk he wouldn’t take.

  So he stuck to seeing women who wanted nothing more from him but a few hours of mutual enjoyment. Except it had been—he counted in his head—five or six months since he’d gotten laid. He tried to blame it on work. All the shit that had gone down with Alex’s investigation into the Alonzo crime family, and if that hadn’t been enough to worry about, Alex had fallen hard for Jose Alonzo’s niece. Fortunately, that had worked out, and now Alex and Madison were married. But not before baby brother had gotten himself shot and almost died. Nate prayed he’d never have to stand over one of his brothers’ hospital beds again.

  In the middle of all that, a woman from Court’s past had walked back into his life, bringing all kinds of trouble with her. After some tense times, Court had married his Lauren two days ago, and the two were honeymooning at some resort in Mexico.

  From the day their mother had walked away, Nate had been responsible for his brothers, long used to putting their needs and happiness above his. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. With all that had gone down the past year, though, he’d put his life—what little he had—on the back burner.

  Taylor walked out, heading for the car. Even in what he thought of as her FBI uniform of dark pants, a cotton blouse—which she rotated between blue, red, and white—a jacket that hid her gun, and sensible shoes, she was still sexy as hell. And who was he kidding? It wasn’t anything going on with his brothers or the job that had him being celibate for too many months. It was the woman. Her. Taylor Collins.

  Not that he’d act on it. He was too afraid that it would only take one night with her and she’d become his drug of choice. She would stay off-limits, and he would keep on taking showers, just longer ones.

  Using a long-range lens, the man snapped pictures of his angel and the girls she often visited. When she came in the mornings, she walked them to school, but this was the first time the man was with her since he’d started watching them a few weeks ago. He’d seen the same man at her apartment last night, but he hadn’t stayed long. Maybe he was just a friend, but even that made him angry.

  She belonged to him.

  He drove straight home, anxious to develop his newest photos.

  They were in yet another meeting, this time in the boss’s office, trying to get a handle on their perp. “In his warped mind, I think he believes he’s saving them,” Taylor said. She’d given the wedding rings and white dresses a lot of thought, and to confirm that feeling, she’d called one of their profilers in Virginia. “Pauline agrees. She thinks, as I do, that we’ll find out that his mother was a prostitute and that something happened to her.” She glanced at Rothmire, getting a nod to continue. “The question is, is he putting the dresses and rings on them before or after he kills them?”

  “I think after,” Nate said. “I have trouble believing he convinced three prostitutes that he was marrying them. One maybe, not all three. And something else. Does he think he’s really marrying them?”

  “Good question.” Taylor thought about it for a moment. “I’d say yes. I think our bad guy is one messed-up dude. I asked Pauline to work up a full profile. It will be interesting to see what she comes up with.”

  “So you both agree our subject is a male?” Rothmire asked.

  Taylor nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “No doubt in my mind,” Nate said.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, nervous about telling them her idea. Nate’s gaze lowered to her mouth, and she swallowed a grin. Chewing on her lip was a habit, one she unconsciously did when thinking, but she’d noticed lately how his eyes would darken when she did it. Since becoming aware of his attention, she would sometimes do it on purpose just to mess with him. This time, though, she wasn’t trying to tease him.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  Nate grunted. “Then stop it. I can already tell by the look on your face that I’m not going to like whatever’s about to come out of your mouth.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Children, behave,” Rothmire said.

  “Sorry. Anyway, our victims are blonde and blue-eyed. I’m blonde and—”

  “No.” Nate shook his head. “No. No. No.”

  She bristled. “You think I can’t take care of myself? I can put you on the floor before you can say ‘jumping jacks.’”

  “Let me think about it,” Rothmire said. He eyed Nate. “She’s exactly the look our man seems to be going for.”

  Nate didn’t respond, just stared hard at her before standing. “We done here?”

  “I think my ride just left,” Taylor said after Nate walked out.

  Her boss turned a curious eye on her. “Anything you need to tell me?”

  Rothmire was too perceptive by far; one of the things that made him a good agent in charge. She considered her response, not sure how he personally felt about employee fraternization. Better to stay mum about her fascination with Nate Gentry.

  She gave him her best innocent look. “Such as?”

  A grin split his face. “Such as, should I warn my best male agent that he’s lost the game before it even started?”

  “Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.” Taylor stood, busying herself with collecting her folder and Nate’s, all the while hiding her own grin. So her boss knew she had the hots for Nate and had just let her know he didn’t have a problem with it. He’d also qualified Nate as his best male agent, a subtle emphasis on male, telling her he thought of her as his best female one. Although, as she was the only female agent in the Miami field office, maybe she shouldn’t feel all that honored.

  Since she knew Nate hadn’t had his last word on the subject of her going undercover as a prostitute, she went to her cubicle to get some work done until he came stomping back. She made a bet with herself that it would take him about two hours at the gym with the heavy bag before he was calm enough to talk.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “What did that bag do to make you want to kill it?”

  Nate kept punching the heavy bag. Maybe if he ignored his annoying baby brother, Alex would go away.

  “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

  Apparently not. “Go find someone else to bother.” He punched his way to the opposite side of the bag, out of sight of Alex. He’d been at it for a little over an hour. Doing his best to kill the bag, as Alex put it, usually worked to calm him down, but not so much this time. The thought of Taylor standing on a street corner waiting for a psycho to pick her up made him crazy.

  Yes, she was highly trained, and yes, she’d be armed, and yes, a team would be watching over her from various places, but all those yesses could go screw themselves. As soon as he could think rationally again, he’d make a list of all the reasons it was a bad idea. She was a smart woman and would agree.

  “It’s Taylor, isn’t it?” Alex said, poking his head around the bag. “You should just admit you’re hot for her and stop fighting it, bro.”

  Nate dropped his aching arms to his sides. “Swear to God, Alex, one more word and I’ll use you for a punching bag.”

  His idiot brother laug
hed. “You can try.”

  Unfortunately, that was true. Like Taylor, Alex was a black-belt Krav Maga master. Although Nate and Court had brown belts, their baby brother could take them down without breaking a sweat. He was that good.

  “Don’t you have someone else you can annoy?”

  Alex shook his head. “Nope. Madison’s at work and Court’s on his honeymoon, so that just leaves you. Want to go a few rounds in the ring?”

  “Lucky me. I need to head back to the office, so not today.” He had a few things to discuss with his fellow agent. She’d make herself a target over his dead body.

  “Anything I can do to help on the case?” Alex tossed him a towel.

  “Yeah. You can start doing some searches, see if you can find any murders with a similar M.O.” He scrubbed the sweat from his face. If Court were here, Nate would put him on that project, as Court was their computer geek. Alex could find his way around on a computer well enough, though, and hopefully it would keep his brother busy so he’d shut up and stop speculating about Taylor.

  “I’m on it, but just so you know, I’m fully aware this is a diversion tactic. You’ll never convince me you’re not panting over Taylor.”

  Amusement danced in his brother’s eyes. Nate barely resisted punching him. “Fuck off, Alex.”

  “And even after you saying that, I still love you, big brother.” Alex walked away, trailing laughter behind him. Nate glared at Alex’s back, debating whether to go after him or to take what was left of his frustration out on the bag. The way he was feeling right now, he might put a real hurt on his brother, so he lifted his boxing gloves, eyed the heavy bag, and went in for the kill.

  “You’re not going to stand on a street corner and troll for our bad guy,” Nate said, his gaze on Taylor as he slipped onto his chair. Their desks were next to each other’s, although until being assigned as the lead on their case, he hadn’t been here much to use his. Too risky to be seen entering the FBI building. His only rebellion against his new assignment was that he refused to wear a suit like the other male agents.

  “You’re so funny,” she said, eyeing him as if he were a comedian telling jokes.

  “Not being funny here. You are not going to put yourself in his sights.” He clamped his mouth shut. What had happened to the rational reasons he’d come up with as to why she couldn’t consider doing such a thing? He hadn’t been able to think straight since he’d kissed her. That had been a big mistake. He’d been trying to teach her a lesson that she shouldn’t play with fire. The only one burned, though, had been him.

  She leaned forward, her blue eyes turning icy. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Nathan.”

  “Oh, but I do. You seem to forget that I’m the lead on this case.” Not good when she called him Nathan. Time to retreat and regroup. Maybe Rothmire would see reason and put a stop to this foolishness.

  He stood. “I’ll be around if you want to grab some lunch later.”

  “I know what you’re about to do, and you better not.”

  He paused. “And what is it you think I’m about to do?”

  “You’re headed straight for Rothmire’s office to try to convince him I shouldn’t go undercover. If you do, I’ll . . . I swear, you’ll never have a moment’s peace.”

  Nate pushed his hands into his front pockets, narrowing his eyes at the woman who was determined to make him crazy. If anyone could make his life miserable, it was Taylor Collins. She already was, though. One kiss and his brains were now about as useful as scrambled eggs.

  Since he already didn’t have any peace because of her, what was one more reason to add to his sleepless nights?

  “Do your best,” he said, then headed straight for Rothmire’s office. She might never be his, but he’d damn well make sure she stayed alive.

  “Shot you down, did he?” Taylor said, her eyes glittering with amusement when Nate returned to his desk.

  Shot down faster than he could have drawn his gun. “If you’re going to gloat, go do it somewhere else.” Since Rothmire was going to sanction Taylor going undercover, Nate would go to plan B. Catch the sonofabitch before Taylor had a chance to play hooker.

  Her lips curled into a pleased-with-herself-smile as she stood, slipping her purse strap over her shoulder. She leaned her mouth next to his ear. “Don’t pout too long. I’m hungry.” With that said, she trailed her fingers across the back of his neck. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re killing me, woman,” he muttered. His neck tingled where she’d touched him and even her lemony scent lingered, as if she’d intentionally left it behind simply to torture him.

  “Who’s killing you?”

  “Just talking to myself.” Nate leaned back in his chair, glancing at Rand Stevens. “Want to go to lunch?” Wouldn’t hurt to have Rand with them. It would keep him from getting into an argument with Taylor.

  “I was coming to ask you the same thing.” He looked around. “Where’s Taylor? Maybe she’d like to join us.”

  “Downstairs, waiting on me.”

  “There’s a new deli I want to try,” Rand said as they headed to the elevator. “Supposed to have kickass hot-pastrami-on-rye sandwiches.”

  “Works for me.” And Taylor loved matzo-ball soup.

  “When are you planning on talking to Linda Harding’s daughters?” Rand asked Taylor after their food was served.

  She lifted her spoon to her mouth and blew on the hot soup. “This afternoon. I doubt they can tell us much, but maybe they noticed something useful.”

  “Want me to go with you?” Nate said.

  “No, but thanks. I think I can get more out of them if it’s just me questioning them.” She pointed her spoon at him. “You can be intimidating.”

  “Do I intimidate you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Not even.”

  “Too bad.” Maybe if he did, he could intimidate her right out of her harebrained idea.

  “I know you’re adamantly against me going undercover.” She pushed her empty soup bowl away. “Let me ask you a question. If it wasn’t me but a different female agent, would you be taking the same stand?”

  Would he? He wanted to tell her yes, but if there was one thing he hated, whether from him or someone else, it was lying. “I don’t know.” That was the most honest answer he could give her.

  “You’re going undercover? I hadn’t heard that,” Rand said.

  “I am. And before you go all protective alpha wolf on me like Nate’s trying to do, Rothmire signed off on it. So if you don’t like the idea, keep it to yourself. I don’t want to hear it.”

  Nate barely managed to suppress a growl.

  Rand glanced between them. “What am I missing here?”

  “Not a thing.” He grabbed the check their waitress had set on the table before Rand or Taylor could. “Ready to go?” Her earlier question was bugging him. Was he treating her differently than he would another female agent? If so, that wasn’t fair to her.

  As he followed Taylor and Rand out of the deli, he decided that he wouldn’t like putting any female in the sights of a serial killer, but he especially didn’t like that it would be Taylor. Since he couldn’t stop her, he’d just have to make sure she stayed safe.

  Taylor had asked Nate to drop her off at her apartment after lunch so she could pick up her car and go question Linda Harding’s daughters. As she pulled into a parking space back at the office after talking to them, she debated turning around and going to Rosie’s. The interview with Mellie and Becky had left her depressed, and the best medicine when she was down was spending time with Rosie and the girls. She turned off the ignition, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.

  Lost girls always broke her heart. No one knew better than she did what it was like to lose a mother, even one who was a prostitute. When the girls had cried, she’d cried right along with them.

  Someone tapped on the window, and she opened her eyes to see Nate staring down at her
. “Stay there,” he said, then jogged around the hood.

  She unlocked the door, and he slid onto the passenger seat. “Something happen while I was gone?”

  “No. I saw you sitting out here and knew you were taking a little time to be sad.”

  Sometimes it was scary how well he knew her. She managed a smile. “It wasn’t an easy interview.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  That was one of the many things she loved about him. He was a good listener. “It was hard, you know? They don’t want to believe their mother’s never coming back.”

  “Something we can both understand.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t learn anything useful, unfortunately. When Linda would leave for the night, they were under orders to stay on the mattress. Because they were afraid of some of the people who called the building home, they obeyed. Mellie said she’d had to twice threaten to use the knife she kept under their pillow.”

  She stared out the window, thinking of how fierce Mellie had looked when she’d said that. “At least they’re safe now.”

  “And you’ll keep tabs on them.”

  “You know I will.” She pulled the key out of the ignition. “Rothmire and I are going to try to track Hector Ramirez down in the morning. See if he’ll admit to knowing Alana Gilmore.”

  “His club usually comes into Aces and Eights on Thursday nights. Will be interesting to see if he shows up with them.”

  “You’ve met him. Do you see him as our bad guy?”

  “Not really, but we certainly can’t rule him out. I’ll be curious as to your impression after you talk to him.”

  “Want to grab some dinner tonight?” She really didn’t want to sit in her tiny apartment alone with her thoughts. She could go over to Rosie’s, but she wouldn’t be good company for the girls tonight. At his hesitation, she said, “Please. I promise not to make you kiss me again.”