Trap 'N' Trace

by Tee O'Fallon

  Dayne frowned. “So the killer stole them.”

  “Looks like. But we’ll do a search of her emails, see if that gets us anywhere.”

  “And her cell phone?”

  “County tech guys are doing a dump on it. We’ll interview everyone she spoke with during the days preceding her death. Today, I’ll serve a subpoena on the carrier for toll and text records for the last twelve months. If we have to, we’ll interview everyone in her list of contacts.”

  “What about a mapping app on the phone?” It wouldn’t tell them every location where Becca had been, but it might give them something else to go on. Right now, the only possible lead lay in Kat’s ability to give them a decent sketch.

  “I’ll add that to the list,” the detective grumbled. “But we don’t have unlimited resources.”

  Through the cracked door, Dayne heard Kat calling for Angus. He’d expected her to sleep later.

  “I know that. Which is why I’ll be taking over your department’s protection duties.”

  A pause, then, “She said she was hiring her own security company.”

  “She is, but they’ll be supplemental. They can’t protect her as well as I can.”

  “On that we agree,” Paulson said.

  “We’ll be at the station by eleven to meet with the sketch artist.”

  “Later.”

  When the dryer buzzed, he grabbed his clothes and returned to the bedroom. He stepped into his pants then turned to find Kat standing in the open doorway. Her eyes widened as she took in his bare abs. A blush crept to her cheeks. Pink looks good on her.

  “I’m sorry, I—” The blush deepened, and he quickly zipped up his pants and fastened the button. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Smooth recovery. For a woman in her thirties, Kat had more poise and grace than most people twice her age.

  “You didn’t,” he reassured her with a slight smile, amused and stupidly pleased at how his semi nakedness affected her. “I’ve been up for a couple hours.”

  “Well, I, uh…” She put her hand to her throat, reminding him of a prim and proper schoolteacher and calling his attention to the marks on her neck. Even the gray sweater and slacks she wore were conservative, but he’d bet a bucket of bullets the outfit was expensive. “I was looking for Angus to take him outside before he has an accident. Nine-week-old puppies can’t hold it for very long.”

  “He’s good.” Dayne opened the door wider so Kat could see Angus happily snoring away. Remy’s tail thumped again, this time for Kat’s benefit. “I already took the dogs out and fed them.”

  Her brows rose. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. Angus can be quite a handful.”

  “Remy keeps him in line.” The puppy’s eyes remained closed as he continued making little puppy snores. “He does whatever she tells him to do.”

  “She really is maternal, isn’t she?” Kat tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the gold stud at her lobe.

  “How’s your shoulder?” If he detected the barest hint that her answer was evasive, he’d drag her to the hospital whether she liked it or not.

  “Better. It still aches but I took something for the pain.”

  Her eyes remained solidly fixed on his. No shifting up and to the right, a typical indication of deceit. “Good, but there’s something else we need to discuss.”

  “Your attire?” Her lips twitched, then she made a point of checking out his abs again. “What there is of it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “My clothes were dirty enough to stand up all by themselves. I walked the property, and we need to talk about your security system, specifically the virtual lack thereof. All you’ve got is a locked gate, but anyone can climb over the fence. A ten-year-old could disarm the alarm.” As he’d done many times to similar systems when he’d been a kid living on the street. “The gate is bad enough. Your house is a castle—literally—but it’s a break-in waiting to happen. The security system at the Haven isn’t much better,” he added. “In fact, it’s the same rinky-dink version you’ve got here.”

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, as if holding back the annoyance she wanted to unleash in his face.

  “You need to upgrade the security here, especially the cameras. There aren’t enough of them, and the ones you have look old enough to take Polaroids. The wiring can be cut from the outside, and the entire system looks as if it was installed forty years ago.” She fidgeted with the thin gold chain around her neck, twisting it with her finger and refusing to look him in the eye. “Exactly how old is the system?”

  “I appreciate your concern, really, and I’m not trying to be difficult. Despite what you may think, I do understand the dangers.” She rolled her shoulders back. “But if you install cameras everywhere, I’ll feel like eyes are on me all the time, even more than I do already, and I don’t want that. This is the only private place I have left in the world. I can’t lose that. I just can’t.”

  Whoa. Hot emotion flashed in her eyes. Fear.

  Last night, when she’d been explaining why there wasn’t more hired help on the premises, he’d detected she was holding something back. Now he was dead sure of it.

  “Okay. No more cameras,” he said softly. He didn’t like seeing her this way—upset and frightened. The opposite of how security systems were supposed to make a person feel. “All I’m saying is that anyone can walk right into the Haven with a gun or scale the fence and break in here. Right now, the only things stopping that from happening are me and the cop outside.”

  She waved her hand in the air. “Do you think I should hire guards to frisk everyone who comes here?”

  He really wasn’t handling this well. “Actually,” he added quickly, sorely needing to diffuse things and really, really wanting to erase the look of stark desperation on her face, “I was thinking of snipers with .50 caliber machine guns mounted on the turrets and electrical fencing surrounding the perimeter.” Kat’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Okay, maybe that’s a little overkill. At a minimum, I’d suggest a moat stocked with man-eating alligators or flesh-eating piranhas. My personal favorite.”

  “Ha. Ha.” A smile played at her lips. Lips glossed shimmery pink. “Very funny. Who knew FBI agents have a sense of humor?”

  He breathed an inward sigh of relief. “At times, I’m funnier than a stand-up comedian.” A little part of his brain was happy as shit that he’d made her smile.

  “A stand-up comedian?” She arched a brow. “I seriously doubt that.”

  “Don’t. I have hidden talents.”

  Her eyes flared a fraction wider. Yeah, that didn’t come out the way I intended.

  The doorbell gonged at the same time his cell phone dinged with an incoming text. Remy barked then leaped over Angus and shot past them into the kitchen. Angus lifted his head, his sleepy eyes staring after Remy.

  Raised voices—female voices—shrieked. Dayne hauled ass after his dog.

  Sonofabitch. The outside duty officer was supposed to notify him before anyone approached the house. A lot of good it did after.

  “Remy, bleiben!” His dog skidded to a stop, her body still tense and ready for action.

  Dayne took in the wide-eyed expressions of five people cowering in the foyer. Behind them stood the duty officer. All wore identical looks of shock on their faces because here he was in Kat’s house, wearing nothing but his pants.

  Just what he needed. Their thoughts might as well have been written on the wall.

  Now it was his turn to blush.

  …

  Kat rushed after Dayne and Remy, her heart pounding like a snare drum at the Met. Behind her, Angus scampered to catch up.

  Cowering in front of the open door were her personal staff and two of the Haven’s full-time employees. The police officer stood behind them on the front stoop. In all, six sets of human eyes were lock
ed on Dayne, although none said a word. They didn’t have to. The implication was clear: They’d been having sex.

  “Everything all right?” The cop looked at Dayne.

  “We’re fine,” he snapped, and was he…blushing? “Remy, hier.”

  The shepherd obediently sat at his side. The young officer turned, but not before she caught the smirk on his face.

  Awk-ward. As much as she wanted to, courtesy dictated she not roll her eyes. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Kevin,” she said to the Haven’s assistant manager, “would you please close the door?” She waited until the door clicked shut. “I asked you all to come in early today because a lot’s happened that you need to be aware of. First, I’d like to introduce you to Special Agent Andrews. He’s with the FBI.”

  Walter grunted, narrowing his dark eyes on Dayne. The look of disapproval on the grizzled man’s face was easy to read. Her groundskeeper was old school and a stickler for propriety.

  “Seriously?” Kevin’s blond brows shot straight to his hairline. “And what’s with the cop outside? And the police tape blocking off the back rooms at the Haven?”

  “Dayne, this is Kevin Acosta, the Haven’s assistant manager.” Dayne tipped his head in Kevin’s direction. “And Fiona, the Haven’s only other full-time staffer.” Now that Amy was dead. Her throat constricted. She could still barely think it, let alone say it.

  “Fiona,” Dayne acknowledged the younger woman.

  “Emily, you remember Special Agent Andrews from yesterday?”

  “I do.” Her assistant grinned as she took in his bare chest. “Nice to, uh, see you again, Agent Andrews.”

  Dayne’s jaw tightened.

  As much as she willed herself not to, she grinned. Watching this badass federal agent feel the heat was too entertaining not to.

  “This is Walter.” Kat looked nervously from the older man to Dayne. “Walter is my groundskeeper. He’s been with my family for over forty years.” Meaning he’d known her since birth. Since the day her parents died, Walter had insisted on meeting every one of her boyfriends. To vet them on behalf of her parents, he’d proclaimed. Not that Dayne was her date, or anything.

  “Son.” Walter angled his head to look Dayne in the eye. “I sure do hope you have something else to wear besides those pants.”

  “Yes, sir. I do.” She’d thought Dayne’s jaw was tight before. Now, it went harder than the kitchen’s granite counters.

  Walter was testing Dayne’s mettle. To his credit, Dayne held fast, not flinching or looking away. Even she understood that if he did, the old groundskeeper would take it as a sign of weakness. Weak was a word she would never use to describe Dayne.

  “And this is Francine.” She indicated the older woman who’d been a stand-in mother to her for the past twenty years. “My housekeeper and the best chef in the Hudson Valley.”

  True to form, Francine walked right up to Dayne and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Special Agent.” A tiny smile curved her lips as she checked out his abs.

  A corner of Dayne’s mouth lifted. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “Everyone, let’s go into the kitchen and sit down for a few minutes.” Kat’s heart dipped at the prospect of notifying her staff that Amy had been murdered. Again, her throat choked with so much grief that she had to swallow repeatedly.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Dayne said, “I’ll get dressed.”

  “Good idea.” Walter’s eyes narrowed to thin slits.

  “Remy, hier.” Man, and dog, then disappeared down the hallway to his bedroom.

  “Would anyone like coffee?” she asked as the people she now considered her family seated themselves on the counter stools. Given the news she was about to deliver, offering refreshment seemed so…ridiculous. But she needed something to do with her hands.

  As one, they declined and watched her from somber faces. They knew her well enough to understand something bad was coming.

  Kat stood at one end of the counter, uncertain of where to start. Blurting out that one of their own had been murdered seemed abrupt. “Dayne—Special Agent Andrews,” she corrected, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire regarding their relationship, which was strictly professional, “is staying here to protect me.”

  “Protect you from what?” Kevin asked. “Emily called us all yesterday about you finding a dead body but said you were okay. We all saw it on TV last night. But why do you need protection?”

  Kat hesitated. They needed to hear it, all of it, and not just for her protection but for theirs. In case the killer came back. “Last night, someone broke into the Haven.”

  “Oh no.” Francine gasped. “Are the dogs all right?” Francine was a huge dog lover, second only to herself. That was one of the reasons they’d connected in the first place.

  “The dogs are fine,” she reassured them.

  “Did they take anything?” Fiona’s blue eyes widened. “Did they break into the drug cabinet?”

  “No.” Kat rested her hands flat on the counter. “They didn’t take anything. But—” There simply was no protocol for what she had to say. “Amy was murdered.”

  “What?” Emily and Kevin cried, their mouths falling open and their expressions one of disbelief.

  “Oh my goodness.” Francine’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “I don’t believe it.” Fiona began shaking her head.

  Kevin opened his mouth then closed it. His face went pale.

  “What in God’s name happened?” Walter fisted his grizzled hand on the counter.

  “We don’t know. She may simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Kat,” Walter said quietly, “were you there, too?”

  Unable to speak due to that lump of grief in her throat getting bigger by the second, she nodded.

  Francine’s eyes widened as she pointed. “Are those fingerprints on your neck?”

  Again, she nodded. “I interrupted whoever killed Amy, and they tried to kill me, too.”

  Collective gasps went around the table.

  “Are you all right?” Emily clasped one of Kat’s hands. Francine grabbed the other, squeezing it.

  “I’m fine.” Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Not really. Not at all.

  “Have you spoken with Amy’s husband?” Kevin asked. “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Not right now.” She shook her head. “Emily, would you please cancel all my appointments for the week?”

  Emily nodded, sniffing back a sob. “Of course.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to Amy’s house today. I’ll let everyone know when the wake is, and I’ll close the Haven that day so we can all attend.”

  The kitchen was deathly quiet as her friends absorbed and processed the horrible news. Only the sound of Angus chewing on his squeaky toy interrupted the morbid silence.

  “So now she has twenty-four seven protection,” Dayne said as he joined them in the kitchen, fully dressed. Remy trailed him to the counter. “I’ll be with Kat around the clock. Kat will hire security guards to supplement outside the castle and at the Haven. Two other agents will be arriving this morning to install a new alarm system.”

  “What?” She smacked her hand on the counter. “This is my home, not yours, and you agreed… No. More. Cameras.” On this, she had no intention of budging.

  He loomed over her, stepping into her personal space. “I agreed to no more cameras, but not to keeping a system that can be disarmed from the outside with a paper clip and a plastic straw. And I can see you care about these people. It isn’t just you who needs to be protected.”

  A paper clip? Is it really that easy? What if it was?

  Trust him, the rational side of her brain said. If nothing else, he really did have her—and her friends’— safety at heart. “Fine.”

  “Young man.” Walter focused on Dayne. “Wh
at do you need from us? We’ll do anything to help.”

  “What I need,” Dayne said, “is for you all to be vigilant. Report anything or anyone that seems out of place. Don’t take any chances. The killer was looking for something, but we don’t know what.”

  “Honey, what happened to Amy was…” Francine squeezed her hand again. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

  Dayne tugged a cell phone from his belt. “Excuse me.” He started for the door, as did his K-9. “Remy, blieb,” he said over his shoulder, eliciting a disappointed snort from the dog who now stood motionless.

  Not being fluent in German, Angus trotted into the foyer. When Dayne opened the door, her eyes went wide. Three enormous men stood on the threshold, each of them as tall and as broad as Dayne.

  One of them gave Dayne a bear hug.

  “Yo, bro.” The next man clapped Dayne on the shoulder.

  The third man’s jaw went tight as he scanned the interior of the house. Kat couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about his countenance screamed: keep back. After he and Dayne shook hands, Dayne led them all to the kitchen. She had a mental flash of four giant jungle cats, all power and grace as they stalked their prey.

  “Everyone,” Dayne said, “this is Kade Sampson, Jaime Pataglio, and Markus York. Kade is with Homeland Security, Jaime is with the Port Authority, and Markus is with Secret Service.”

  She’d already guessed they were law enforcement. Like Dayne’s, not only was their physical fitness totally off the charts, but it was in their bearing and demeanor. Confident. Authoritative. Cautious.

  “This is Katrina Vandenburg.” Dayne caught her eye and a spurt of heat shot up the back of her neck.

  Kade extended his hand and smiled, flashing a set of boyish dimples that softened the hard features of his face. The man was beyond handsome, but… No heat.

  “Always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman.” Dark eyes twinkled as Jaime brought her hand to his lips, dropping a chaste kiss on her fingers.

  “Down, boy.” Dayne’s eyes glittered like shards of green ice.

  Jaime held up both hands then knelt to pet Remy and greet Angus. “Hello, little man.”