Ace of Spades (Aces & Eights Book 3)

by Sandra Owens

  When her tears ran dry, she turned off the faucet, then grabbed the towel she’d draped over the hook right outside the door. After drying off, she slipped on her clothes. And lo and behold, a very moody-looking FBI agent was waiting for her when she walked to the lockers. Ignoring him, she retrieved her badge and gun.

  “We need to talk.”

  “If you say so.” She was tempted to walk away, but Nate would just follow her. And yes, she was acting bitchy, could hear the petulance in her voice. That was so unlike her, but she couldn’t seem to care. Dressed in his usual black jeans and black T-shirt, he stood in front of her with his fingers stuffed into his front pockets. She loved men’s arms, his in particular, and against her will, her eyes lingered on his forearms, the ones that had held her with such tenderness last night.

  “Not here.”

  She jerked her gaze up to his. “Fine. Text me when and where.”

  “Taylor.” He put his hand on her shoulder.

  Any other time, she’d love his hand on her, but right now it felt condescending, as if she were someone he was trying to calm down. She stepped out of his reach. “Yes?”

  He sighed, regret, maybe even sadness, in his eyes. “Nothing. When you’re ready to listen, we’ll talk.” He walked a few feet away, then paused. “You missed the team meeting this morning. That’s your one pass.”

  “I thought I was off the case.”

  “If you’d been at the meeting, you might have learned different.”

  When he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. “I’m still a team member?” He stared down at her hand, then lifted his gaze to hers. It was at that exact moment—when those same eyes that had darkened with desire for her last night turned cold—that she felt like she’d lost her best friend.

  “Like I said, let me know when you’re ready to listen.”

  “What? You want me to crawl back, begging forgiveness?” Her mouth needed to shut up.

  “No.” He tapped her forehead. “I want you to use that brain I know you have and look at the situation objectively. I get that you’re mad. I probably would be, too, in your place, but with that Polaroid, the game changed.”

  “I know that, but—”

  “This isn’t the place for this conversation,” he said when two men walked up to the lockers. “Come with me.”

  Back at the office, she followed him into the conference room. “Look, I’m sorry I missed the meeting, but I really did think I was off the team. That’s what you said last night.”

  He closed the door, then gestured for her to sit. She felt like a kid who had been called to the principal’s office, and maybe she had a lecture coming, but it still rankled. There was no hint of warmth in his eyes as he sat across from her. It was as if last night had never happened, that they hadn’t laughed together, shared passionate kisses, hadn’t made love, hadn’t explored each other’s bodies for hours.

  If she hadn’t gotten her crying done in the shower, she’d probably burst into tears right now because his indifference hurt. But she refused to let him see her wounds. He wouldn’t see one damn tear leak from her eyes.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Nate hated how Taylor had closed in on herself, hated even more that he was the cause. Her face was a blank page, not a hint of emotion showing. But she’d let the situation affect her judgment, and he couldn’t allow that to pass. This would have been easier to deal with before last night. Now all he wanted to do was drag her onto his lap and hold her close, giving her whatever she wanted.

  There was a wall between them that had never existed before, and that was his greatest regret. He’d lost his best friend. Although too late in coming where she was concerned, lesson learned. Never let his desires come before the job. She was a fellow agent, and he should have never given into temptation. It might be different if something could come of it, but he had nothing to offer her, even though the idea of a life with her sent a longing through his heart that he was having trouble ignoring.

  “Tell me something,” he said. “And be honest. If you were the lead on an investigation and you learned one of your team . . . let’s say Rand. If Rand had a connection with the bad guy, but you didn’t know who your suspect was, didn’t know if he knew where Rand lived, the places he went, who his family was, or what your bad guy’s intentions were, what would you do?” He held up a hand. “Before you answer, add to that mix that the case, for whatever reasons, turned personal for Rand, which would mean that you couldn’t predict his behavior. Now you can answer.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Are you implying that I won’t do my job? That I can’t be trusted?”

  “We’re not talking about you yet.” He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, which was in much need of a shave. With everything that had happened since Rothmire had called with the news of another body, he hadn’t even made it home to shower and change the clothes he’d been wearing since yesterday. He resisted the urge to sniff under his arms.

  “Answer the question, Taylor,” he softly said. There was no reason to remind her to be honest. He knew she would be, and hopefully, her answer would sink in and the proverbial light bulb would go off.

  She made circles on the table with her finger. He waited her out, letting her work his hypothetical question from all the angles. Taylor Collins was one of the smartest people he knew, and if she could separate her emotions from her brain, she’d realize he had no choice in his decision.

  Finally, she sat up straight, looked him in the eyes, and said, “I’d put him at a desk, out of sight. Is that what you plan to do with me?”

  “Yes. You’ll still be involved with the investigation, but behind the scenes.” He let out a relieved breath, thankful that they’d successfully jumped the first hurdle.

  “I’m not happy, but I understand. It’s better than being taken totally off the case, I guess.”

  He hated that defeated voice. She wouldn’t be any good to them if she didn’t believe that she was a valuable member of the team, so he needed to restore her confidence in herself. But first, he had some more heavy shit to drop on her.

  “It’s likely that our killer knows who you are. And if so, he might know about Rosie and the girls.”

  Her face paled. “Oh, God. I should have considered that.”

  “Yes, you should have. That’s why you need to step back and regroup.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You have to stop seeing your mother in each of these dead women. It’s clouding your vision.”

  She covered her face with her hands. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Look at me, Taylor.” When she raised her eyes to his, he said, “No, you’re not. What you are going to do is your job. I want you to work with Court on searching for similar murders. Also, I want you to work closely with Pauline on keeping her profile updated as we get new information. I was going to call her this morning with what we learned last night but haven’t had a chance. You need to do that as soon as we’re finished here.”

  “What about Rosie and the girls? We can’t leave them unprotected.”

  “We’re not. Josh is sitting in front of their house right now. But I think we should send them on a vacation so we don’t have to worry about them. We have a safe house in Jersey that’s only a few blocks from the beach. The girls would love it there. You on board with that?”

  “What about school?” She shook her head. “Don’t answer. That was a stupid question. Their lives are more important than anything else.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to them, Taylor. That’s one thing I can promise you.” The gratitude shining in her eyes, as if he were some kind of hero, made him uneasy. He wasn’t anyone’s hero. Not his brothers’, as he hadn’t been able to protect them from their father’s fists and worse, and not hers. Not when he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

  “Thank you. I’d die if they were hurt.”

  “I know. So you’re on board with sending them away until this is over?”

  “Absolutel
y. I’ll go see Rosie as soon as we’re done here.” Her eyes shifted away, then landed back on him. “I was out of line, but it won’t happen again. As for my new assignment, you know I’ll give it my all.”

  “I do know that. There’s one other thing you’re not going to like. You don’t go anywhere without a partner.” When she opened her mouth, he was sure intending to protest, he shook his head. “That’s not negotiable. This is no reflection on you or your abilities. We don’t know what this clown is capable of or what he has planned. I’d put the same rule in place if it was any other member of the team.”

  “Okay. Just do me a favor and catch this bastard fast so I can get out of jail.”

  “That’s the plan. Let me know what Pauline has to say after you talk to her.” He pushed away from the table.

  “Nate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What about us?”

  “There is no us.” He walked out, unable to stay and see her reaction to his words. Nor did he want her to see the regret on his face.

  “I want you to dig into Taylor’s mother’s murder,” Nate told Court. He’d called Court and Alex to meet him at his condo so they could talk privately. “The file is thin, but work on running down any of the cops or detectives involved and see what they can add to it. Get Rand to help you. Alex, I want you to personally interview anyone they think might have information.”

  Court frowned. “So, these killings really do connect to Taylor and her mother?”

  “I think the Polaroid is evidence of a connection of some sort. The question is exactly how? Did he accidently drop the photo, or did he want us to find it? And if the latter, why? Did he kill her mother, or did he somehow come into possession of the photo? Does he know who Taylor is? It all seems like too much of a coincidence. Too many fucking questions that we need answers to ASAP.”

  “We’re going to keep someone on her at all times, right?” Alex said.

  “Yeah, and we’re sending Rosie and the girls to a safe house in New Jersey. Taylor’s not happy about either of those things, but she understands.”

  “You think this dude might come after her?” Court said.

  “Who knows, but I have a bad feeling about this one.”

  “Why don’t you just move in with her, or better yet, bring her here?” Alex leaned back in his chair, giving Nate a thoughtful look. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like that.”

  “For the last time, there is nothing going on between Taylor and me.”

  Alex snorted. “Right, but your nose is growing, Pinocchio.”

  “I’m going to miss you, baby brother, when he kills you,” Court said, laughing.

  “Nah, he loves me too much to put a hurt on me.”

  “Don’t count on it.” Nate put his foot on Alex’s chair, pushing him away from the table. “Go do something productive, both of you.” His brothers exchanged a look that he didn’t like, much less trust. “Whatever’s about to come out of your mouths, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Why are you being so hardheaded about Taylor?”

  “Alex, shut it. We’re not talking about this.” He’d never told his brothers that he feared being like their father, and he wasn’t about to start now.

  “We just want to see you happy, brother,” Court said.

  “I am happy.”

  Alex stood, staring down at him. “Liar.”

  He didn’t like the worry in either of his brothers’ eyes, didn’t want their pity. Just because they were married and ridiculously happy didn’t mean he should run out and find a wife. But he had been happy for the few short hours he’d spent with Taylor. He’d had a taste of what it would be like to be with someone special, and that had been a mistake. Because now he wanted more.

  There is no us. Those words reverberated in Taylor’s mind like a broken record. Their friendship was broken, and she didn’t know how to fix it. That hurt as much as knowing that he’d never fall in love with her.

  She didn’t do hookups, had never gone out looking for one night of pleasure. Doing that felt too much like her mother’s life. But being with Nate had seemed so right, as if they were meant to be. She didn’t regret it, not for one minute. Her only regret was that it would never happen again.

  “You’re awfully quiet today,” Rand said as he pulled into Rosie’s garage.

  “Just have a lot of things on my mind. You coming in?”

  “No. I want to talk to Josh, see if he’s noticed anything unusual.”

  “Okay. We won’t be long.” She glanced at the car parked across the street and waved at Josh—assigned to keep an eye on Rosie and the girls—then headed inside. Not being able to go anywhere without an escort was wearing on her already, and it was only the first day. It was also unnerving that there was an agent parked in front of Rosie’s house, but she wasn’t complaining about that. She wasn’t about to risk whoever this creep was getting to her family.

  The plan to secretly get them out of town that Nate and Rothmire had devised was probably more elaborate than necessary, but the girls would probably see it as a grand adventure. It hadn’t been a problem getting approval from the girls’ case worker to take them out of state, since the request had come from the head of the FBI’s Miami field office.

  When she walked into the house, she found Rosie in Bri’s room. “Need any help packing?”

  “No, this is the last of it.” Rosie huffed out an annoyed breath. “Your phone call was very mysterious. What’s going on, and why do we have to go away? And exactly where are we going? All you said was pack their bathing suits.”

  Taylor sat on the edge of the bed. “Is there anything about my mother’s murder you’ve not told me?”

  “What? Why are you asking this now?” Rosie sank onto the mattress, the suitcase between them.

  Taylor probably should have eased into that question, but they didn’t have much time. “Someone’s murdering prostitutes, and at the last crime scene, he left a photo of my mother, taken right after she was killed.”

  When Rosie gasped, Taylor reached across the suitcase, putting her hand over Rosie’s. “We think he knows who I am, and that’s worrisome. I doubt he knows about you and the girls, but we’re not taking any chances. So you’re going to a safe house in New Jersey until this is over. The house is only a few blocks from the beach, thus the bathing suits.”

  “Of course we’ll go. We can’t stay here and take a chance they’ll be harmed. You need to come with us until this is over.”

  In Rosie’s eyes, she was still a little girl needing taking care of. Her foster mother preferred to believe that she sat behind a desk, answering phone calls or some such. Taylor had never disabused her of that notion. Rosie had no idea she knew how to kill a person nine different ways. Actually, more than that.

  “I can’t. I’m a part of the team to catch this creep. I understand your concern, but this is my job, Rosie. You didn’t answer my question.”

  Rosie deflated right before her eyes. “I knew you would say that. Why couldn’t you grow up to be a schoolteacher or something that wasn’t dangerous like this job?”

  Taylor chuckled. “These days, being a schoolteacher isn’t all that safe.” She squeezed Rosie’s hand. “Stop avoiding my question. You know something.”

  “I don’t think it’s anything that will help in your investigation, but there was a man she told me about right before . . . You know, before.” Tears pooled in Rosie’s eyes.

  Raisa Collins and Rosie had been best friends, both prostitutes until the day her mother was killed. On that horrid day, Rosie’s world had changed as much as Taylor’s had. She’d changed her life to raise Raisa’s daughter. As far as Taylor knew, Rosie had never had another man in her bed. If not for this woman, Taylor firmly believed she would have gotten lost in the system.

  She pushed the suitcase behind them, scooting next to her savior. “What did she say, Rosie?”

  “That there was a man who scared her. He was one of her johns, but then he started getting je
alous of the other men. He asked her to marry him, told her he would save her from the life she led.”

  “Did you ever see him?”

  “No. Right before she died, she told him to leave her alone. She said he got angry when she refused to see him anymore.”

  “Did she tell you his name?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  That was unfortunate. A name right now would be handy. Those early years with her mother were fuzzy. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember her mother’s face, although Rosie often said Taylor looked just like Raisa.

  She did remember that they lived in a room in a run-down building. Whenever her mother went out for the night, she made sure the door was locked behind her, always reminding Taylor not to open it for anyone. She couldn’t think of one single time her mother had brought a man home to their room. But the night her mother was killed was a black hole in her mind.

  “We’ve never talked about what happened that night, Rosie. I’ve read the police reports, what little there are of them, but I don’t remember anything.” Had she seen her mother murdered and blocked it out?

  “Oh, chica, it’s best that you don’t know.”

  “Possibly, but with what’s happening, I do need to hear what you saw. There might be something that can help us.” She squeezed Rosie’s hand. “I know it’s hard, but take me through that night.” At her foster mother’s hesitation, she said, “It’s important. Just start from the beginning. Were you working that night?”

  “Yes, we both were. We walked out together. Raisa was seeing one of her regulars. I didn’t have anyone scheduled, so I headed to my usual corner.”

  “Do you know who her regular was and where they met?”

  “I only knew his first name. Paul. There was a little motel where he’d reserve a room, but it was torn down years ago. I don’t see how any of this can help you.”