Don't Trust A Killer

  Kace raked his gaze over the jackass. “Maybe with the jacket and the helmet…Maybe it was you.” He pursed his lips. “You sure as hell hate me enough, don’t you?”

  “What?” Grayson barked. “What are you—”

  “I’m saying that you hate me. You hate so much that you’d do just about anything to get me locked away, wouldn’t you? Even kill. Kill women who were your informants. Kill women you were using in your quest to take me down. Kill the one man who saw you in the act…because you were afraid he’d let your secret out.”

  “You’re insane.” Grayson shook his head. “I’m an FBI agent, I’m—”

  “Where were you when the poor bastard was being torched?” Kace reached out and slid his fingers down Bree’s arm. “Because I have someone who can vouch for me. Can you do the same?”

  Grayson’s furious stare narrowed on Bree’s face. “Can you vouch for him? Every single moment? Can you swear he didn’t leave your sight?”

  “Sure, she can,” Remy cut in. “They were fucking. Why the hell do you think they’re standing so close to each other now? They’re lovers. You can see that shit.”

  Bree went statue-still beside Kace.

  Kace turned his head to stare at Remy. “Fatal mistake.”

  Remy blinked. “Boss?”

  But then Grayson blasted, “You weren’t supposed to fuck him, Bree. The job was to get close, not to become a freaking whore who—”

  He didn’t get to finish because Kace had lunged toward him. Kace didn’t put his hands on the jerk. He knew how to play the game. Didn’t touch him at all. But Kace smiled, and he knew it would be a chilling sight. “You don’t talk to her that way. You aren’t her boss any longer. You’re nothing to her.”

  Fury hardened Grayson’s face.

  “You are nothing,” Kace continued in a cold, lethal tone. “And you’ll see that…because I’m going to take away everything that you care about. You’ll be in the street, begging, before I’m done with you.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Kace just laughed.

  “You’re laughing,” spittle flew from Grayson’s lips, “while a man just burned behind your club.”

  “I’m laughing…because I can’t wait to destroy you.”

  “Oh, yeah? You think you’re so big and bad? Do it.”

  “Don’t.” Bree grabbed Kace’s arm. “He’s trying to make you take a swing. He wants you to attack. It’s the same shit you did to him at the station.”

  Kace already knew that. “I don’t make mistakes.” A definite warning to Grayson. And to Remy. Remy’s mouth was too damn big. Someone was going to shut him up.

  “You’re choosing the wrong side, Bree.” Grayson’s words were a fierce snarl. “You’re supposed to put the criminals away, not fuck them.”

  The guy was trying to antagonize him. Trying to push Kace into making a mistake.

  It would be so easy to punch the fellow.

  Kace opened his mouth, ready to tell the jackass where to—

  “He was a much better fuck than you,” Bree said calmly.

  Oh, damn. Kace’s gaze swung to her.

  Bree lifted one brow as she stared at Grayson as if he were a piece of shit that had gotten stuck to her shoe. “Kace didn’t torch this place. He didn’t kill the vic. He’s done nothing wrong the whole time I’ve been with him, and, yes, I’ve fucked him. Several times. And I plan to do it again. So how about you maybe stop the sex shaming and actually find the real killer? Does that sound good to you? Oh, wait, it doesn’t matter if it does or not. You’re not on the case. You’re suspended. Since you are, get the hell away from my crime scene.”

  Shit. Shit. That woman was amazing.

  Without another word, Grayson turned on his heel and stalked away.

  “Dismissed,” Remy muttered, and he sounded impressed.

  “I’m going to get more details from Dominic and Karin.” Bree started to rush past Kace.

  He held tight to her. “You are insanely sexy and beautiful.”

  She blinked. “You realize, of course, my career is probably about to be torpedoed because I just told—”

  “Your career won’t suffer at all.”

  A broken laugh. “I don’t care. You aren’t the man he thinks.”

  And you’re a woman I could love.

  Oh, no. That thought shouldn’t have been there.

  “I took this job because I wanted to protect people. Because I wanted to make a difference.” Bree nodded. “That’s what I’m going to do.”

  She shouldn’t be with someone like him. He would never deserve her.

  “I’m going to be here for a while. There will be lots of questions. You’ll probably want to get that lawyer of yours on stand-by.” She squared her shoulders.

  He kissed her. Leaned in close and kissed her right there on the street. Screw whoever was watching. He was staking a claim and letting the whole world know.

  She is mine. I’m hers. You go after her, I wreck you.

  He held the kiss, let it linger, and then he pulled back and watched her walk away.

  Remy gave a low whistle. “I didn’t realize…like that, is it?”

  Kace didn’t speak.

  “I…I thought you were using her. Throwing her up as bait for the killer.”

  “Bree isn’t bait.”

  Cocking his head, Remy studied Kace. “Then what is she?”

  Everything.

  ***

  “What just happened over there, Bree?” Dominic asked her, his voice low. “Because Grayson sure looked pissed.”

  Yes, he had. “I’m plenty pissed myself. I thought Grayson was suspended.”

  “He is.” Dominic sidled closer. “Karin told him to get his ass away from her crime scene.”

  She was really liking Karin more and more.

  “Your, ah, your boyfriend…you sure he was with you—”

  “Kace didn’t leave the house.” She’d only slept for about twenty minutes before her nightmare had woken her. That wouldn’t have given him enough time to leave and commit the horrible murder.

  “Then you did your job.” Dominic nodded. “We sent you in to find proof of his innocence or guilt. He’s not our guy, you’ve got proof, and now we can—”

  “Now we can see what mistakes this bastard made.” She took a pair of gloves from the crime scene techs. “I want to survey the kill area.” Bree glanced over her shoulder and saw Kace still huddled tight with Remy. Remy’s lip was busted, and his jaw sported some serious bruises. She would be asking more about that later. Sparring, my ass. Bree made her way through Fantasy, her gaze sweeping the place. Not much damage inside. The fire had been contained at the rear of the building. She headed to the back. The vic was still there.

  Jesus.

  She flinched and jerked her gaze away, even as nausea rolled through her stomach. The horrible smell of burnt flesh filled her nose—

  “Don’t gag,” a woman barked at her. She looked down to see a beautiful, African American woman kneeling near the remains. “If you contaminate my crime scene, I’ll be pissed.”

  Bree kept her breathing shallow. No deep breaths. Don’t inhale this.

  “You’ll never forget the smell.” The woman’s gaze softened with sorrow. “You’ll wish you could. But it’ll just be something that stays with you forever.” A sigh. “Poor bastard. He was still wearing his dog tags. They melted to—” She broke off, shaking her head. “I’m the coroner, Dr. Angela Craword. I’ll be running a full autopsy, and I’ll get you my report ASAP.” She pointed behind her. “Fire marshal is already here, too. But you can tell by those marks on the building, our killer was slinging accelerant as fast as he could.”

  Because he’d wanted his victim to go down in flames.

  Why?

  “What in the hell?” Angela leaned forward. “He’s holding something in his hands. Something…it’s not burned.”

  The vic’s charred right hand was clenched tightly around something.

 
“Money?” Angela questioned. “Why is he gripping—”

  “You want a homeless man to come close, you tempt him with money.” Bree braced her legs apart. She knew why the guy was gripping money even in death. “There are going to be fingerprints on that money.”

  Angela glanced up at her. “Probably hundreds of prints.”

  True, but… “A hundred prints or five prints…whatever is on there, this is a start. It’s a real lead for us.” Because even if the perp had been wearing gloves, he might have been carrying the money around for a while. If that was the case, the guy could easily have touched the cash at some point without his gloves.

  Hell, yes, yes.

  Angela’s lips pulled down. “Too bad this fellow had to die for the lead.”

  Yes, it was.

  ***

  Kace Quick was a fucking bastard. Grayson paced around the confines of his apartment. He was on the top floor of an old, converted antebellum home in the Garden District, a home not too far away from Kace’s place. He’d picked the location deliberately, wanting a space that would allow him to keep watch on his prey.

  Grayson stormed into the bathroom. Ash covered him, and he needed to get that crap off. He stripped, then climbed under the hot spray of the shower. As the water thundered down on him, the fury he felt just grew.

  Kace had screwed him over at the station. Got him to react when Grayson knew he should have kept his cool in place. The guy had pushed his buttons. After all of Grayson’s careful planning, he’d been so sure—

  He heard the click of a door closing. A faint sound, one that he barely caught over the blast of the shower, but Grayson stiffened.

  What the hell was going on? He yanked off the water, sending it into a fast drip, drip, drip before he shoved back the shower curtain. “Who’s there?” Grayson called.

  Nothing.

  He grabbed a towel and looped it around his waist.

  There was one person who had a key to his place. She should know better than to come right now, though, not after the shit she’d pulled. Water trickled down his chest as he grabbed for the bathroom door.

  He heard the creak of the floor in his bedroom. The wooden floor was always creaking and groaning. A dead giveaway that he had company.

  “Dammit, Abby,” Grayson thundered as he shot into the bedroom. “You shouldn’t be—”

  A hard fist hit him in the jaw, sending Grayson stumbling back. His eyes widened in shock when he got a good look at the man who’d been standing near his bathroom door. Just waiting for him to appear.

  Kace Quick.

  Kace’s blue eyes were icy. “I didn’t like the way you were talking about Bree.”

  Oh, fuck.

  “So, I decided it was time for a little visit.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Grayson tried to run for the door. Seriously, the freaking idiot who only had on a bath towel tried to run. Kace rolled his eyes as he threw out his foot and tripped the fool. Grayson slammed into the floor, hitting with a thud. “Get that dumbass up,” Kace growled.

  Franco rushed to obey. Franco was always good at this kind of work. The fellow showed a true talent for generating fear. As for the other guy that Kace had brought along for this friendly little chat…

  Remy wasn’t looking so good. He was still standing by the bed, his hands loose at his sides.

  Franco grabbed Grayson by the shoulder and yanked him up. The FBI agent—the suspended FBI agent—came up swinging. He drove his fist into Franco’s stomach, but good old Franco didn’t even grunt. The guy could certainly take a punch. But before Grayson could swing again, Kace was there.

  He caught the jerk’s fist in his hand. “I’m not here so you can pound on my crew.”

  Grayson’s head turned. He smiled. “You’re going to jail. You just screwed yourself, buddy. You broke into an FBI agent’s home. You assaulted an FBI agent, you—”

  “You dropped your towel, dumbass. And your dick is tiny.”

  Grayson’s head snapped down as he tried to look at his own dick. Too tiny to find.

  Kace used that moment of inattention to his advantage. He drove his fist at the creep again, slugging him a hard right. Grayson gave a pain-filled grunt.

  “Get his ass in the chair,” Kace ordered.

  Remy finally moved. He grabbed one of Grayson’s arms. Franco grabbed the other. They shoved the guy into a nearby desk chair and held him there.

  “You’re not getting away with this!” Grayson yelled. “You’re not going to—”

  Kace sighed and pulled out a gun. He’d had it hidden beneath the back of his leather jacket.

  Grayson’s eyes doubled in size. He immediately shot a frantic glance at Remy.

  Like help was going to come from that end.

  Voice mild, Kace told him, “I’m going to ask you questions. You’re going to answer me. And if I don’t like what you say, I might just shoot off your tiny dick.”

  Grayson blanched.

  “Right. Here we go.” Kace rolled back his shoulders. “I believe you called for…Abby, was it? When you realized someone was in your bedroom?”

  Grayson pressed his lips together.

  “I think you meant my Abby. Abby Johnson, correct? Because it only makes sense. Someone had to be feeding you information about me. And I’ve learned about your style. You like to manipulate women in order to get what you want. You seduce them, make them promises, and then you use them.” Kace gave a sad shake of his head. “Hardly the behavior of an upstanding FBI agent.”

  “Fuck you!” Grayson shouted as spittle flew from his mouth. He tried to lunge forward, but the grip of the other two men held him in check. “Like you didn’t do the exact same thing with Bree! You knew what she was! You seduced her. You used—”

  Kace had no patience and no fucks to give. “Say Bree’s name again, and I’ll shoot you in the knee.”

  Grayson’s eyes went wild. “Y-you won’t. You won’t do it, you—”

  Kace had to laugh. “You’ve been telling the world that I’m a monster all this time, and now you think I won’t shoot you?” He leaned toward the fellow. “Don’t you get it? I’m not worried about you reporting this little chat. Because if I wanted, I could just snap my fingers and make you vanish. No one would ever find you—there wouldn’t be anything left to find.”

  Grayson’s frantic gaze darted around the room.

  “Bree isn’t your concern, Grayson. She’s mine. So you’ll treat her with the respect she deserves. By the way, it’s a hell of a lot of respect. In case you were wondering.”

  Grayson wasn’t speaking. He was staring at the night stand drawer.

  Inspiration. Kace tucked his gun back into his waist band. He headed for the nightstand drawer. He still had his gloves on, so he opened the drawer without worrying about leaving any finger prints. As he’d suspected, Grayson’s gun was waiting inside. He had to laugh. “Maybe I will let the authorities find your body. Easy enough to make it look as if you shot yourself with your own gun.” He glanced back at his enemy. “A disgraced FBI agent. Not like it would be hard for many people to make the leap and assume you took your own life.”

  “Fucking sonofabitch—”

  “Abby was feeding you intel on me. And before Abby, it was Ciara, right? When Ciara came to me, warning me that the FBI was closing in, it was because you were working her.”

  Grayson gave a jerky nod.

  “Sorry.” Kace inclined his head toward Franco. “I couldn’t hear you.”

  Franco shoved down on Grayson’s shoulder. Hard.

  Grayson bellowed.

  “Oh, feel free to scream. These walls are thick as fuck. No one will hear you. I made sure of that. I don’t leave things to chance.” Not ever. A wave of his hand had Franco easing his attack. “Now, where were we? Ah—Abby.”

  “She’s working with me. I’m—we’re fucking.” His breath heaved in and out. Lines of pain bracketed his mouth.

  Kace just waited.

  “She…gave me name
s of women who might turn on you. Abby and I—we go back to the old days. I knew her when I was young in New Orleans.”

  “She gave you Amelia.” That made sense. It also connected more dots that he didn’t like.

  “She wanted you and she hated you, so it seemed like Amelia would be good to turn on you.” Grayson huffed out a breath. “But then she wound up dead.”

  Now they were getting some place. “Every woman that you tried to use against me…they all were victims of the New Orleans Strangler.”

  Grayson blinked. Over and over. “Wait, wait, no, shit, it’s not—”

  “You know what I see as the connecting piece in all of these murders? I see you. I see a man consumed by hate. A man who couldn’t get the evidence he needed, so he decided to work a frame job. You killed those women. Maybe they were all coming to tell me the truth about you—Ciara certainly wanted to let me know about the Fed on my trail. But then someone stopped her from talking. Someone strangled the life out of her. Out of Amelia. Out of Marie.”

  “It’s not me!” Grayson bellowed. “You can’t possibly think—”

  “I think I’m staring at a dirty Fed. A guy who had access to the witness who saw Marie’s killer—the homeless man who was torched less than two hours ago. Maybe you killed him so he couldn’t tell the world what he knew…about you.”

  “I interviewed him! Sat with the guy for an hour! If I was the man he’d seen, don’t you think he would have said something?”

  “Maybe he did. Maybe he said something in that interview, and you knew you had to get rid of him. Not like you could do it at the station with all of those eyes on you. So, you waited for the perfect opportunity. You told everyone he had shit info to give, and then you offed him.”

  “No.” A frantic shake of Grayson’s head. “No.”

  “And why should I believe you? Bree asked for an alibi, but you didn’t have one, you didn’t—”

  “I was with Abby! Trying to fix the mess she made!”

  Kace didn’t let any emotion show on his face. This was what he’d waited for.

  Sweat slid down Grayson’s cheek. “Abby was freaking in love with you. Did you know that?” Grayson gave another shake of his head, this time in disgust. “The other women… Ciara turned on you for money. Marie was talking because her brother is in jail and she wanted a deal. Amelia—that one was just screwed in the head.”