Don't Trust A Killer

  “You’re talking about a kid—”

  “He was never a kid. He was a killer. Still is.”

  Her breath came too quickly. “We’re tearing his life apart. There is no evidence that he’s murdered anyone.”

  Grayson stepped closer to her. “You and Kace are tight now, aren’t you? He moved you in to his house?”

  “Because you trashed my room.” The fury still flared in her.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Ask him about Sheldon. You think you know Kace so well now. Stare into his eyes and ask him about Sheldon Taggert. See what he says to you. Then you come back to me, and tell me if you believe his lies.”

  “I will.”

  Their angry gazes held.

  Karin shuffled toward them. “Um, I think we all need to take a breath here. I mean, we’re on the same team, right?”

  Grayson’s eyes glittered. “Bree is blinded by her chief suspect. She can’t see him for what he really is.”

  She could see just fine. Twenty, twenty. “Why are you so convinced he’s the bad guy? Why can’t you consider that maybe Kace was framed?”

  “Because he told me that he was going to kill Sheldon Taggert! He told me, and I fucking didn’t believe him.”

  What?

  Grayson turned away, marching angrily toward the far wall. “Shit.”

  Karin and Bree exchanged a confused glance.

  “I think you need to tell us more, boss,” Karin said, her voice curt. “Like, now.”

  He whirled back toward them. “I started here in the NOPD, okay? I grew up on these streets. Born and bred here.” He exhaled and straightened his shoulders. “I was one of the uniforms working the Brittney Lang case. The day that Quick was found not guilty, I was there. I saw the way he glared at Sheldon all through the trial. I saw the hate in his eyes. And when the prick was found not guilty, I was one of the officers assigned to protect him as Kace walked through the crowd of reporters.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The last thing Kace said to me…the last thing…was that Sheldon Taggert would pay.” His hand dropped. “Every bit of intel I’ve ever gotten on Kace Quick says that the man is a greedy, controlling bastard. He doesn’t share—not with anyone. Sheldon was screwing Brittney. So Kace killed her. He killed her because she’d cheated on him. She’d betrayed him. Even as a young punk, Kace couldn’t handle betrayal. Then he waited, and one year to the date of her death, he killed the bastard who’d fucked her.”

  Karin frowned, her brows pulling low. “Or maybe Kace killed the man who’d murdered his girlfriend.”

  “Or maybe Kace didn’t kill anyone!” Bree snapped.

  But they just stared at her as if she was insane.

  Grayson’s lips twisted. “The NOPD thinks he’s buried more bodies than they can count. Like I told you, he doesn’t handle betrayal well.”

  “I betrayed him. I went in under a lie to do nothing more than deceive him. And I’m standing right here. Alive and well.”

  Grayson’s lips parted, but then he seemed to catch himself. He hesitated a moment, then, voice curt, asked, “Karin, give us a minute, will you?”

  “Uh…” Her stare swept toward Bree.

  “A minute, Karin.” Now Grayson wasn’t asking. He was ordering.

  “Fine.” Karin pointed at him. “But you’d better not drop any more bombshells while I’m gone. Because finding out that you have a history with our chief suspect is something you should have disclosed to the team sooner.” Her high heels tapped on the floor as she headed for the door. “I’m going to find Dominic and bring him up to speed.”

  The door closed behind her with a click.

  Grayson’s jaw was clenched as he gritted, “You spent the night with him.”

  “Wasn’t that the plan? You destroyed my room, I became the victim, I stayed with—”

  “I mean you slept with him. Didn’t you? In his bed?” He advanced on her.

  Yes. But instead of answering, she evaded with, “Did you want me to do that? Because you sure threw me at him.”

  “I want you close to him. But I don’t want you becoming one of his victims.”

  Now she laughed. “I can handle myself. I’m FBI, remember?”

  “That’s what I told Dominic. But he reminded me…we’re sending you in alone. And Kace can kill you as fast as he can kiss you. Especially if you’re trusting him. If you’re falling for him. You won’t see the threat coming, not until it’s too late.”

  “I see the threat.” She stared straight at Grayson. “It’s you who can’t see beyond the past. You and Kace have a history? Okay. Glad to finally get those details. I’m sure there is a whole lot more you’re not telling me.”

  His eyes turned to slits. His hands fisted.

  The body doesn’t lie.

  Bree fought to keep her emotions in check as she noted, “Because of that past, maybe you’re not seeing clearly right now. Maybe you’re not seeing the truth.”

  “The truth?”

  “That someone else out there is setting up Kace. That someone else wants to destroy him. The perp is hurting these women because he thinks killing them will hurt Kace. He thought they were all involved with Kace. He was wrong.”

  Voice mocking, Grayson said, “Because Kace told you he didn’t sleep with them—”

  “Yes, because he told me that. The last vic developed an obsession with him. I documented the truth by questioning other staff members at Fantasy when I had the chance.”

  He blinked. Narrowed his eyes.

  “Amelia told everyone that she was sleeping with Kace, but she wasn’t. It was just her fantasy. The woman was using, and she went to a rehab clinic, a place that Kace sent her to, but she didn’t get help. She broke out and went onto the streets.” Where the killer found her.

  A faint line appeared between his brows as Grayson finally seemed to consider what she was saying. “So, say Kace was never involved with them. Fine. Then who the hell is he involved with? Who do you think the killer is going to target next?”

  Her lips parted. Me. But she didn’t let that confession slip. Instead, the one word seemed to roll through her mind, again and again.

  Me.

  “Bree?”

  Play this cool. “I’m the one in his house. To outsiders, I look like the one he’s sleeping with.” A plan began to form. “I’m the next victim.”

  “What? Oh, the hell, no, you—”

  “I am the next victim,” she argued back fiercely. “I have to be, don’t you see? I can be the bait. I can draw the killer out. I can prove it’s not Kace when we catch the real perp.”

  Grayson shook his head. “No, no—”

  “It’s already happening. The plan is unfolding, whether you like it or not. I’ve been seen with Kace at Fantasy. I’ve been with him on his motorcycle. I’m another blonde who fits the victim pattern. And I’m staying in Kace’s house. If I’m not on the killer’s radar yet, I will be.” She’d make sure of it. “I’ll stick to Kace like glue. I’ll get the perp’s attention. I’ll make him come after me.”

  “And if Kace is the killer?”

  He’s not. “Then we stop him.”

  ***

  Kace walked into the Fantasy, flipping on the lights. He’d disabled the security system just moments before.

  “You really think moving the FBI agent in your house is the best plan?” Remy demanded.

  After Kace had turned off the security system, Remy had dodged his steps. Now, Remy was right at Kace’s side.

  “I think it’s an epic plan. Destined for full success.” He headed for the main bar area, turning on more lights as he advanced. The lights came on slowly, illuminating the interior. The chairs had been carefully stacked on top of the tables, and his cleaning crew had done their usual top-notch job.

  His gaze slid toward the performance area. The silks dangled from the ceiling. Odd. They should have been secured, not left loose that way. Why did…

  “I get that you like to keep your enemies close and shit,” Remy g
rumbled, “but this is going too—”

  “Why are the silks out? The aerials should have been secured Saturday night.” His gaze rose to the ceiling and—

  Blond hair. Falling just beyond the woman’s jaw. Hanging over her face as she hung from the silks. Dressed in a black leotard. Her arms were twined in the silk. Her legs jutted toward the floor. Her neck—

  The silks twisted around her neck. Over and over.

  She hung from the silks, strangled by them.

  Kace raced forward, fury and fear breaking within him as he roared her name. He grabbed for the silks, yanking them hard, wanting them down.

  “Kace, fuck, man, stop!” Remy grabbed him and jerked him back. “We have to call the cops!”

  Kace drove his fist into Remy’s jaw. Remy staggered back, then slipped, falling on his ass. Kace whirled around and grabbed the silks, he grabbed her dangling feet and he yanked her down, pulling hard over and over again, pulling until—

  Remy tackled him. “What the fuck are you doing, Kace?”

  Kace looked up. From this angle, he could see her face.

  That’s not her.

  All of the breath left him in a deep rush of air.

  “We have to call the cops!” Remy snarled. “We’re calling them now!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The body hung in the middle of the silks. Her head was tilted forward, and her blond hair slid against her jaw. Bree stared up at the woman as horror snaked through her. Her team filled the scene, and crime scene techs were collecting evidence like bees in a hive.

  “Marie Argeneaux,” Remy said as he stood beside Bree. “Someone cut her hair shorter, but that’s Marie. Shit. Shit.” He sounded shaken.

  He and Kace had found the victim. As soon as her team had arrived, Grayson had immediately ordered the two men separated. Kace had been escorted to his office, while Remy remained at her side.

  “Tell me again,” Bree directed him. “Everything that happened. Leave nothing out.”

  His cheeks puffed before he gave a hard exhale. “I got a call from Kace. He asked me to meet him here. When I arrived, he was standing outside of Fantasy.”

  She licked her lips. “Can you swear that he hadn’t entered before you arrived?”

  Remy raked a hand through his hair.

  Grayson walked closer to them, moving so that he’d be able to hear the interrogation.

  Remy dropped his hand. “He unlocked the door, turned off the alarm, and…yeah, yeah, that means he hadn’t been inside before I arrived. That’s what it has to mean. And the way he reacted…” His voice trailed away as he looked up at the victim once more. “How long are you going to leave her hanging there? Someone needs to take her down.”

  “She can’t be moved until the crime scene is secured. We have to collect evidence.” Grayson’s words were low.

  “Kace’s DNA will be all over the place. He grabbed the silks, grabbed her legs, tried to get her down.” A rough sigh escaped Remy. “Even slugged me in the jaw when I tried to stop him.”

  She could already see the bruising along his jaw.

  “Like a man possessed,” Remy groused. “Never seen him like that. He was out of control.”

  Bree kept her expression blank. “I need you to tell me everything that happened after Kace turned off the alarm.” The fact that the alarm had needed to be disengaged was an important point. The killer had known the security codes for the place. He’d gotten in and out too easily.

  “We headed to the main bar area. We stopped a moment. Talked.”

  Remy didn’t say more.

  Grayson raised one brow. “About what?”

  Remy’s gaze cut to her. “Bree.”

  Her shoulders stiffened.

  “I told him it was dangerous having a Fed so close, but he didn’t care. That’s the thing about Kace. He never listens to warnings. Always does whatever the hell he wants.”

  “Is he going to be pissed that you’re talking to us?” Grayson wanted to know.

  Remy appeared confused. “Why the hell would he be? I’m not spilling state secrets. We came in, we both discovered the body, and then Kace tried to pull her down.” His hands fisted. “I’m about to do the same damn thing myself. Not right to leave her up there while people are taking pictures and talking around her body.”

  Voice low and calm, Bree explained, “The techs are just doing their jobs so we can catch her killer. If we take her down too soon, evidence can be compromised.”

  Remy grunted. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” She glanced over her shoulder at the vic. “I don’t like it, either.” When she turned back to Remy, she found him watching her with a hooded gaze. She narrowed her eyes on him. “Who realized the victim was Marie? Who made the connection first? You or Kace?”

  Marie. God, she’d seen the woman just nights before. Marie had been the original aerial performer in Fantasy. But Abby had said that Marie had texted in her resignation…

  Did Marie really send that text? Or had it been her killer?

  And the bastard had put her body in the silks, a deliberate act. Using the silks she’d loved as the instrument of her death.

  “Kace made the connection.” Remy rolled back his shoulders. “I tackled him because he wouldn’t stop trying to get her down. When we hit the floor, he looked up, and he could see her face from that angle. He stopped fighting then. He said—” But Remy clamped his lips shut.

  Too late. Grayson perked up, as if he were a shark who’d just scented blood in the water. “What did he say?”

  Remy’s expression turned mutinous, and she didn’t think he’d reply.

  “A woman is dead,” Grayson snarled. “A woman you knew. You need to cooperate with us. You need to tell us everything—”

  “Kace said, ‘It isn’t her.’ Okay? That’s what he said. He saw her face, said that, and he stopped fighting. ‘It isn’t her.’”

  Bree fought to keep her breathing slow. Her heart was racing out of control, and her hand rose to brush back her hair.

  Someone had cut Marie’s hair.

  Slowly, she made herself turn until she faced Marie. “That’s the leotard I wore on Saturday night.” The hair still fell over Marie’s face. “And her hair has been cut to look just like mine.”

  Grayson swore. He surged forward, and his shoulder brushed against hers.

  “She looks like me,” Bree whispered. Marie had been made to look like Bree.

  She’d come up with a plan to bait the killer. Grayson hadn’t liked it, but he’d been willing to go along with her idea. Only it seemed she’d already caught the perp’s attention…

  But he wasn’t supposed to go after another innocent woman. He was supposed to come after me.

  ***

  “How long are you planning to keep me prisoner in my own office?” Kace demanded.

  The guy standing near his door—an FBI agent named Dominic Grant—blinked owlishly a few times. “Uh, the special agent in charge will be in to see you soon and—”

  Kace rose from his chair and stalked toward the fellow. “I’m cooperating. I found a dead woman, I called the police. I let you all into my club. I’m letting you tear my place apart without so much as a word of complaint.”

  Dominic stiffened and started to sweat in his cheap suit.

  “But it’s been over an hour since you escorted me in here, and I want to talk with someone higher up on the freaking food chain, got me?”

  “Uh, you need to calm—”

  “Get Grayson Wesley in here. Get Bree Harlow in here. Now. Or I will call my lawyer—or five of my lawyers—and you will find yourself in a world of hurt. You don’t get to hold me prisoner in my own building.”

  Dominic was sweating more. He lifted his left hand, wiping his brow, and Kace caught sight of the tattoo on his inner wrist. A rose with thorns twisting around it. What the hell?

  “G-Grayson will be in—”

  A quick knock sounded at the door. Dominic jerked
forward.

  The door opened.

  “Speak of the devil,” Kace muttered as Grayson surged into his office.

  And right after Grayson—

  Bree.

  Kace sucked in a deep breath.

  Bree’s gaze cut to him. Her eyes were so deep and golden. Her blond hair swung against her cheeks. She wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Definitely not clad in the standard and unimaginative FBI uniform of cheap suits. She looked young and beautiful and alive.

  Not caring about their audience, Kace went right to her and hauled her into his arms. She was warm and soft against him. She smelled like lavender. She was alive.

  Because when he’d first seen the victim in the silks…

  “You thought it was me,” she whispered.

  He held her tighter. “For a moment, yeah, I did.” A terrible moment he’d never forget.

  Grayson cleared his throat. Kace ignored the asshole. He had more important things to focus on right then. “I think I went a little crazy.” A truth that didn’t make him comfortable. He’d have to analyze his reaction later. Have to fully understand why the whole world had seemed to go dark around him even as a killing fury had surged through his veins, maddening him.

  Grayson cleared his throat again. “We have questions for you.”

  “Fuck off.” Kace lifted his head so he could stare down at Bree. “You saw her hair.”

  She nodded.

  “It was cut roughly, but it was made to look like your hair.”

  “I know.”

  “She wore your fucking leotard.”

  A shiver. “I…I know.”

  “You have to get away from me, Bree. Get out of New Orleans. Get the FBI to transfer you far away.” Let her go. He made himself step back.

  Grayson cleared his—

  “Are you choking?” Kace demanded as he whirled to confront the guy. “Because if you’re not, stop that shit. I’m talking to Bree and you’re interrupting.”

  Now Dominic made a strangled sound.

  Maybe they were all choking.

  Figured.

  Bree’s hand squeezed Kace’s arm. “We have to ask you some questions.”