Kill Without Shame

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Did you see anyone next door?” he asked.

  Carl flattened his lips, clearly wanting to tell Lucas to go to hell. But he’d been spooked enough by the threat of being accused as a potential murderer to force himself to respond.

  “You,” he muttered.

  “Anyone else?”

  Carl gave a lift of one shoulder. “There was a man sitting in a car out front.”

  That had to have been Max. If there’d been anyone else his friend would have noticed.

  “What about the backyard?”

  Carl’s brow furrowed as he tried to shift through his fuzzy brain for the memory.

  “I saw a black SUV parked at the end of the alley,” he at last admitted.

  “Did you recognize the driver?”

  The man gave a shake of his head. “I didn’t pay attention. I’ve seen it there a few times, so I assumed it was a friend of Mia’s.”

  “Ms. Ramon,” Lucas snapped, as infuriated by the sound of Mia’s name on the pervert’s lips as he was by the knowledge that the SUV had been lurking behind Mia’s house more than once.

  “Fine,” Carl conceded with a resentful glare. “Ms. Ramon.”

  Lucas tempered his burst of fury. He wasn’t done with his questions. Which meant he couldn’t break the man’s jaw.

  Not yet.

  “How long was it there this morning?”

  “It was there when I woke up.”

  “What time?” Lucas pressed.

  “Five.” Carl hesitated before giving a shrug. “Maybe five thirty.”

  “Did you see it leave?”

  “No, but when I heard the cops coming I looked out and it was gone.”

  “You never saw anyone in the backyard?”

  “Nope.”

  Of course he hadn’t. Lucas swallowed a curse. Nothing could be easy. At least not when it came to discovering who was trying to hurt Mia.

  Still keeping his gun pointed at Carl, he pulled out one of the business cards he kept in his jacket pocket. “If you see anyone, I want you to call me immediately,” he ordered, shoving the card in the man’s unwilling hand.

  “Why should I get involved?” he muttered.

  Lucas grimaced. Yeah. The man was a real winner.

  “Because I’ll give you a hundred bucks for any information that helps me track down the driver of the black SUV,” he growled.

  Greed sparked in the man’s bloodshot eyes, assuring Lucas he would be getting a call if the SUV made an appearance.

  “Okay.”

  Lucas took a step closer, ignoring the man’s pungent scent. “I’ll also give you a warning,” he said, his voice hard. “The card I just gave you is from my new business, ARES Security. We’re a group of highly trained, well-financed soldiers who enjoy hunting down bad guys.”

  Carl licked his lips, his expression wary. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “I took precautions in the very unlikely event that Mia returns to this house,” he smoothly lied. Mia was never coming back, but the man didn’t know that. “I’ve placed a number of hidden cameras around the neighborhood. Cameras so small you would never find them.”

  Carl’s gaze darted toward the light posts at the front of the house and then the large tree at the side of Mia’s house. “That can’t be legal,” he said, his face draining to a strange shade of ash.

  No need to ask if he believed Lucas’s threat.

  Lucas chuckled. “As I said, I’m a St. Clair.”

  “I still don’t know what this has to do with me.”

  “If I catch sight of you creeping around the area, peeking into windows that don’t belong to you, I promise you’ll be very, very sorry.” Lucas deliberately pointed the gun between the man’s eyes. “Got it?”

  Sweat dripped from the man’s face as he hastily nodded his head. “Got it.”

  “Good boy.”

  Convinced he’d done everything in his power to protect the women who lived in the neighborhood, Lucas turned to jog back toward his car.

  He wanted to be at the penthouse when Mia returned. The funeral was going to be rough on her. Probably rougher than she expected. He needed to be there to comfort her.

  Reaching the end of the alley, he narrowed his gaze as he caught sight of a shadowed figure leaning against his car. Just for a second he considered circling around the building so he could sneak up from behind.

  Then the figure turned and Lucas instantly recognized the large, heavily muscled man with dark caramel skin and golden eyes.

  Moving forward, he smiled at his fellow ARES partner. “Teagan.”

  The younger man glanced toward the gun that Lucas still clutched in his hands. “Terrorizing the natives, St. Clair?”

  “Me?” Lucas deliberately took in his companion’s skull-shaved head and the tattoos that were revealed by the short-sleeved T-shirt tucked into his camo pants. “You look like a reject from a Vin Diesel movie.”

  Teagan heaved a faux sigh. “Men your age really should be wearing glasses.”

  Lucas chuckled, holstering his gun. “What are you doing here?”

  “I think I have some intel that might help.”

  Lucas felt a surge of hope. If Teagan had driven all the way to Shreveport, it had to be important.

  “What is it?”

  Teagan nodded toward the restored Camaro parked near the exit of the lot.

  “It’s on my computer.”

  Lucas considered using Mia’s office. He assumed most of the workers would be at Tony’s funeral, so the chances of being interrupted were slim. But he couldn’t shake the urge to return to the penthouse in case Mia needed him.

  “Follow me,” he abruptly commanded.

  Without demanding unnecessary explanations, Teagan gave a nod and quickly crossed the lot and slipped into the Camaro. Lucas took a minute to instinctively glance around and make sure no one was watching before he slid into his own car and headed across town.

  The Sunday traffic was light, and within half an hour, Lucas was opening the door to the penthouse to lead Teagan inside.

  The younger man released a soft whistle as he crossed the living room to place his computer on a low coffee table.

  “Nice,” he murmured, settling on the edge of a gray sofa as he waited for his machine to boot up. “Did you have to dip into that trust fund to pay the rent?”

  “It’s mine, or at least it will be once the paperwork is done,” he said, taking a seat next to his friend. The real estate agent hadn’t been happy to be wakened in the middle of the night. At least she hadn’t been happy until she realized Lucas was willing to pay full asking price in cash. “And no, I didn’t use my damned trust fund.”

  Teagan stiffened, his expression suddenly unreadable. “You’re moving to Shreveport?”

  Lucas frowned at his friend’s unexpected reaction. He assumed his partners would be happy as hell he’d found his true love.

  Then realization slowly eased his confusion. Teagan was worried he was going to break up the team. The knowledge warmed his heart.

  No one besides Mia had ever cared whether he was around or not.

  “I intend to bring Mia to Houston, but I’ll have to spend at least some time here,” he told his friend. “I doubt Mia will agree to sell her company, which means she’ll want to come back to check on things on a regular basis.”

  Teagan’s expression softened, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “So it’s like that,” he murmured.

  Lucas glanced around the penthouse, easily visualizing Mia standing near one of the glass walls as she savored the sunset. Or curled in one of the overstuffed chairs as she fell asleep watching TV.

  A profound emotion clenched his heart.

  “I hope so,” he said, forced to stop and clear the lump from his throat. Feeling unnerved by the sheer strength of his need, he concentrated his attention on Teagan as he leaned forward and tapped on the keyboard. “What did you find?”

  Teagan turned his head to meet Lucas’s curious gaze. �
�Max said that you hadn’t managed to locate any of Tony’s associates.”

  “As far as I can tell he was a complete loner,” Lucas said with a shake of his head. “No friends. No lovers. Not even a booty call.”

  Teagan returned to tapping on the keyboard. “That got me thinking.”

  “Miracles do happen,” he teased.

  Teagan reached out to smack Lucas on the back of the head without ever allowing his gaze to stray from the monitor. “Smart-ass.”

  Lucas smiled. As much as he loved having Mia back in his life, he missed the camaraderie of his friends. “It got you thinking about what?”

  “The money trail.”

  Lucas frowned in confusion. “Max already gave it to me,” he told his friend. He’d spent a few hours going over the financial report while he was waiting for Mia in the hospital. “The cash is going to be hard to trace.”

  Sitting back, Teagan turned to face Lucas. “Not necessarily.”

  “No?”

  “As I was saying before I was interrupted, I spent some time on the computer searching through Tony’s social media and e-mails,” Teagan drawled.

  Lucas felt like an idiot. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Tony might have a Facebook page.

  “What did you find?”

  “Nada.” Teagan swiftly squashed his flicker of hope. “I don’t think he spent any time online.”

  “Great,” Lucas muttered.

  “I’m not done,” Teagan chided.

  “Of course not.”

  Teagan narrowed his golden gaze. “Do you want to hear or not?”

  Lucas held up his hand in a gesture of peace. “Yeah, I want to hear.”

  “I finally tried to put myself in Tony’s shoes.” Teagan grimaced. “It wasn’t hard. We both grew up poor and had to fight and claw to make our own way in the world. That sort of existence doesn’t encourage us to embrace our fellow man.”

  Lucas’s teasing smile faded as he studied his friend’s grim expression. His own childhood had been a cold, lonely existence, but it couldn’t compare to what Teagan had endured. If anyone would understand Tony’s troubled life, it was the man sitting next to him.

  “True,” he murmured.

  “We also both spent time in jail.”

  “Petty stuff,” he murmured.

  Teagan shrugged. “Jail is jail, which means to get out you have to convince someone to pay your bail.”

  Lucas considered the various possibilities. He’d never been in jail. Even when he’d been caught at a party with underage drinkers he’d been hauled home instead of to the station with the others.

  No one wanted to make the phone call to Senator St. Clair to say his son was sitting in a cell. Now he tried to remember what his friends had told him when they’d been in trouble.

  “I thought everyone called their mom?” he at last said.

  Teagan shuddered. “Bro, no one calls their mom.”

  Okay. He’d clearly touched a nerve.

  “What about one of his brothers?” he suggested.

  Teagan shook his head. “As far as I can tell not one of them have a damned penny to share between them.”

  Yeah. That sounded about right. The Hughes boys might be hard workers, but they didn’t make more than minimum wage. Plus they’d all started having kids before they were out of high school.

  “So who did he call?” he asked.

  Teagan nodded toward his monitor. “I did some digging and came up with the name of Freedom Bail Agency. It’s a local company.”

  Lucas tried to place the name and failed. “Should that mean something to me?”

  Teagan turned the computer so Lucas could see the screen.

  “No, but each of the bonds was secured by Vicky Fontaine.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mia stepped out of the side of the church and sucked in a deep breath.

  God. She hated funerals. The hushed voices. The cloying scent of flowers. The heavy sadness that wrapped around her like a physical weight.

  They all reminded her of the aching misery that had been her constant companion after her mother’s death.

  Now she halted at the edge of the crowd. People were busy filling their plates from the potluck lunch that’d been set out on long tables in the center of the small clearing.

  Her eyes ached from crying and her entire body was still cramped from having the drugs forced from her stomach, but it was a relief to be able to suck some fresh air into her lungs.

  She took another breath as Burt walked toward her, his blunt face blotched with tears.

  “Thank you for coming, Mia,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I know how much you meant to Tony.”

  She forced a sad smile to her lips, the memory of the carefree days when she and Tony had been kids playing together clenching her heart with a bittersweet emotion.

  “I’m going to miss him.” She glanced around, grimacing at the handful of people who mingled near the food tables. Tony’s family was there, of course. And Mrs. Hughes’s friends from the church. But that was it. Just another reminder of how isolated Tony had become over the years. “He’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.”

  Burt shoved his hands into the pocket of a suit jacket that had clearly been loaned to him by a friend who was two sizes smaller than him.

  “I just wish we knew what happened,” he muttered.

  “The Houston detectives still don’t have any clues?” she cautiously probed.

  The last thing she wanted was to bring up the painful subject of Tony’s murder, but she was desperate to know if the family had heard any new information.

  “The Houston detectives don’t give a shit,” Burt said with a pained twist of his lips. “They think it was a drug deal gone bad. They ain’t gonna waste any tax dollars trying to find who pulled the trigger.”

  She swallowed a sigh of disappointment. “We’re going to discover who did this,” she murmured, laying a comforting hand on his arm. “I promise.”

  Burt shook his head before he was squaring his shoulders and studying her with a worried frown. “I heard you had some sort of accident.”

  She lowered her hand, plastering a fake smile to her lips. In the South, everybody’s business was everybody’s business, but they were usually polite enough to take a hint when someone didn’t want to talk about it.

  “I’m fine.”

  He leaned closer, taking note of her pallor, which wasn’t entirely disguised by her makeup, and the shadows beneath her eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Burt paused, as if trying to decide whether to let it go or to ask the question that was trembling on the tip of his tongue.

  “It wasn’t St. Clair?” he at last demanded in gruff tones.

  Mia blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Burt hunched a shoulder. “I heard he was back in town. He wasn’t responsible for putting you in the hospital, was he?”

  Mia sucked in a shocked breath.

  She knew that many families in the area resented the wealth and power of the St. Clair clan. And that they would love to believe they were inherently evil. But Burt couldn’t possibly think that Lucas would ever hit a woman.

  “Are you two back together?”

  She blushed, her body tingling with the vivid memory of Lucas’s touch.

  “No.” She struggled to pretend an indifference she was far from feeling. “He’s just visiting for a few days.”

  Burt lifted his brows, not buying her act for a minute. “Visiting?”

  She tilted her chin, her cheeks still burning. “Yes.”

  “Hmm.”

  Mia glanced away from Burt’s knowing gaze, relieved to see Mr. Hughes waving a hand from the far side of the clearing.

  She eagerly latched on to the distraction. “I think your father is trying to get your attention.”

  “Damn.” Burt glanced over his shoulder, his big body tensing with an unexpected anger. “That basta
rd.”

  Mia frowned. The Hughes boys had never respected their father. He drank too much, he was lazy, and he’d cheated on their mother a dozen times. But they usually tried to keep their disdain behind closed doors.

  “Is anything wrong?” she asked.

  Burt gave a shake of his head, turning back to meet her worried gaze. “He’s trying to get me to hustle everyone out so he can take Ma home.”

  Mia’s heart clenched. Tony’s father might be a waste of space, but Mrs. Hughes had always been a loving mother who’d done her very best for her boys. Her grief was painful to witness.

  “This is a difficult day for her,” she said in soft tones.

  Burt snorted. “It is, but that’s not why the old man is trying to get this over with.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The cops stopped by this morning to say that we could get into Tony’s condo,” Burt confessed. “Now he can’t wait to go there and start pawning off my brother’s things.”

  Mia couldn’t disguise her reaction. She had a sudden, vivid image of a vulture picking over a dead carcass. It was . . . horrifying.

  “Oh,” she breathed.

  Burt heaved a sigh of resignation. “Nice, huh?”

  With an effort, Mia dismissed the terrible thought. She didn’t have the right to judge Mr. Hughes. Her own father had struggled with his demons.

  “I’m sure he’s just trying to deal with his grief,” she murmured.

  “You always think the best of everyone,” Burt told her. Then, heaving a resigned sigh, he visibly squared his shoulders. “I need to go over there. There’s no way in hell he’s dragging Ma away until she’s ready to go.”

  Mia reached out to grab his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Take care of yourself.”

  Burt gave a slow nod. “You too, Mia.”

  Mia watched as Burt circled the small knot of people to lean down and speak in his father’s ear. The older man flushed, his chin jutting out with stubborn fury.

  No doubt the older man would do exactly what he wanted to do. . . .

  Mia abruptly stiffened. Crap. She’d been so focused on Burt’s frustration with his father that she hadn’t thought through his revelation.