by Lori Foster
Kennedy took the laptop from her and settled back on the couch. Photos of men, and a few women, both facing forward and in profile, filled the screen. “How did you get these?” They looked like official police photos.
Madison smiled but didn’t answer. “Click on each image to enlarge it.” With a pat to Kennedy’s hand, she stood. “I could use a cup of coffee and maybe a few cookies. You?”
“Sounds good. You want me to make it?” She now felt fairly comfortable in Reyes’s home. A dangerous thing, that. A part of her knew she should be expending every ounce of free time trying to figure out how to leave; instead, every day she became more settled.
“No, you look through those. I’ll be right back.”
An hour later, with a looming headache and eyestrain, Kennedy admitted defeat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize any of them.” Which only meant there were too many horrible people in the world.
“That’s okay. It was worth a shot.”
Another hour passed while they talked and strategized. Kennedy liked Madison. The woman was far too pretty with her fawn-colored hair and wide hazel eyes that matched Reyes’s. She had to be six feet tall, slender but toned, and though she had a fragile femininity about her, Kennedy believed she could do serious damage.
Never would she underestimate any of the McKenzies.
When the doorbell rang, Kennedy nearly leaped off her seat.
“Oops.” Madison glanced up at the nearest monitor. “I was enjoying our visit so much, I didn’t even notice someone approaching.”
Far less cavalier, Kennedy’s heart lodged in her throat, making her rasp when she asked, “Who do you think it is?”
“Oh, look. He’s staring right into the security camera. Isn’t that clever of him?”
Kennedy gaped at her.
“It’s hidden, you know, but he spotted it.” Finally realizing that Kennedy was frozen beside her, Madison smiled. “No worries. It’s just Detective Albertson. What a surprise.”
“You know him?” Kennedy started to relax.
“We’ve never met. He’s been keeping tabs on my family, so I’ve been keeping tabs on him.”
As she headed for the door, Kennedy panicked. “Wait! Should you open that?”
Gently, and with understanding, Madison said, “It’ll be okay, I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She wouldn’t let... Good grief. Was everyone in the McKenzie family so cocksure of themselves? Of course, she believed Madison was capable, but the man was big, muscular, and he just might have his own set of skills.
Launching from her seat, Kennedy quickly backed up to the kitchen entry, which also put her in line with the hall. If she had to make a run for it, she’d go to the guest room she used, lock the door and dig out her weapons. In fact, maybe she should do that now.
Too late.
Madison swung open the door to reveal a... Wow. Seeing him for real instead of through the camera, the guy looked like a male model. Not as tall as Reyes and Cade, but then who was? He was still six-two, with broad shoulders beneath an expensive suit.
Sandy-brown hair, with gold streaks that made it a few shades lighter than Madison’s, and dark-as-sin eyes, made him a devastatingly handsome man.
Madison smiled. “Hello, Detective Albertson. How nice to see you.”
The detective had been staring at Madison in a surprised yet absorbed way—until her words registered. Then he straightened, on alert. “We haven’t met.”
“No,” Madison confirmed. “We haven’t.”
He looked past her into the house, locked on to Kennedy for a heart-stopping moment, then gave his attention back to Madison. “Miss Madison McKenzie.”
Madison actually seemed pleased that he’d said her name. “That’s Ms., if you don’t mind.”
He acknowledged that with a nod. “I wanted to speak to your brother.”
“Which one?”
“The one who lives here?”
She laughed. Kennedy couldn’t credit it.
And, damn it, she was still tempted to run.
“Unfortunately, Detective, he’s away at the moment. Would you like to come in?”
Kennedy almost choked. She didn’t want a stranger in the house!
Sensing her unease, Madison glanced back. “It’s okay. Detective Albertson is a very good, honest cop. Isn’t that right, Detective?”
Confused by the familiar way she addressed him, he ran a hand over his mouth. “You’ve been studying up on me.”
“Tit for tat, you know.”
Flirting? Was Madison actually flirting with the man? They were all certifiable...but also proficient, damn it. She trusted that Madison knew what she was doing. Sort of.
Maybe.
Still undecided, Albertson hesitated, then finally nodded and stepped in. “Thank you.”
“Coffee?” Madison asked as she headed to the couch and casually closed her laptop.
Not missing a thing, the detective’s suspicious gaze zeroed in on the device. “Sure, thanks.”
Madison looked to Kennedy. “Would you mind?”
“Oh.” Shaking herself, Kennedy said, “Sure,” and hurried away. She needed a minute to herself, and this would help. As she poured the coffee, she tried to think.
Reyes would be furious, she didn’t doubt that. Would he be mad at her, or just his sister?
Didn’t matter. Reyes was the one she trusted—his sister, she barely knew. So she used her phone to quickly send a text to Reyes.
your sis just let in Detective Albertson. They R talking
& it seems ok but thought you should know
Immediately she got a reply: On my way. She was about to put the phone in her pocket when another text came in: Stay behind Madison.
Obviously, he believed his sister could protect her. For the moment, that was good enough for her.
* * *
“SO.” MADISON COULDN’T help admiring the handsome detective. His sandy-brown hair was a bit too long, curling at the ends in what might have created a boyish look if it wasn’t for his strong jaw and sinfully dark eyes. Such a stunning contrast, that lighter hair with the dark chocolate gaze. With brothers like hers, most men seemed far too ordinary in comparison.
Not so with Crosby. Having never experienced lust at first sight, she sighed.
The good detective shot her a suspicious look, to which she smiled...and yes, that only made him more wary.
It wasn’t only his looks worth noting. Since he’d been checking into them, he had to know that her brothers were very dangerous people. So was she. Yet here he stood, in Reyes’s house, gazing at her with cautious interest—something most men didn’t dare to do.
That dark stare did funny things to her insides. She’d have to get used to the detective in small doses. “If you’re here for a reason, I suggest we get to it.”
Now he smiled. “Suddenly in a rush?”
“Well, since Kennedy surely texted Reyes, and since he’ll race over here just to throw you out—and I do mean throw—yes, it might be wise to find out the reason for your visit.”
That took care of his smile. Annoyance gathered his brows together. They were a few shades darker than his hair and added even more interesting dimensions to his face.
“You’re threatening me with your brother?” he growled.
“Oh, no, I’m happy to finally meet you in person. Remember, I offered you coffee.” Louder, so that Kennedy would hear, she said, “Although I’m starting to wonder if that meant making a new pot, since it’s taking so long.”
Wearing a hot blush, Kennedy finally slunk back. She set the cup on a coaster on the coffee table, then backed a safe distance away.
Clearly she didn’t trust Albertson, which sort of amused Madison. “Crosby—may I call you Crosby?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before contin
uing to Kennedy. “Crosby is fine, I promise. You can trust my judgment. That said, I don’t mind that you contacted Reyes, I promise. No reason to blush.”
Now Kennedy frowned, too. “I think you’re trying to embarrass me.”
“Not at all. I just want us all to be honest.” She turned back to Crosby. “Now, why are you here?”
He rubbed a big-knuckled hand over his mouth. “We’ve arrested a lot of shady men lately—”
“I’m aware.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know that there was one particular man I want, but he wasn’t in the mix. I thought you might know something about that.”
Madison almost clapped her hands. “We’re collaborating? Oh, how fun! Do you have an image?”
“I do. So you know, it’s inside my jacket pocket.”
“Not going for a gun, huh?”
“No, I’m not, so don’t overreact.”
That he understood her capability flattered her. Few men would even acknowledge her talents, much less respect them.
Slowly he withdrew a small, crinkled photo and handed it over.
“Hmm.” Madison studied the black-and-white of a balding guy in slight profile, which showed a scraggly ponytail hanging down his neck. He had a very weak chin, an ugly smile and a few missing teeth. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t look familiar.”
Kennedy gave up her suspicion of Crosby in favor of seeing the photo for herself. Silently, she stared at it. “Are you able to give a name to go with the image?”
Madison watched Kennedy more closely. She saw...maybe not actual recognition, but definitely a flash of something.
As if delivering a curse, Crosby muttered, “Rob Golly.”
Kennedy’s head jerked up. She stared in horror at Crosby, which brought him closer to her in a rush.
“You know him, don’t you?”
“No,” she said, stepping closer to Madison. “No, I don’t.”
Madison touched her arm. “But you’ve heard of him?” Was his a name she’d learned during her time being trafficked?
Or...was the bastard somehow tied to Jodi?
Starting to tremble, Kennedy asked, “Why are you looking for him?”
Crosby noted Kennedy’s unease and he solicitously indicated the chair.
Gripping the photo enough to add new wrinkles to it, Kennedy sank onto the cushion.
Madison chose a spot on the couch and patted the seat beside her.
Ignoring that, Crosby sat at the other end, as far from her as he could get, and retrieved the coffee. He sipped, no doubt using that time to formulate how much he wanted to share.
“You can tell me, you know,” Madison assured him. “I’m completely trustworthy.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “You’re completely...something. Trustworthy isn’t the word I’d use.”
Smart man. “Okay, give. Who is Rob Golly and why do you want him?”
Keeping his gaze on Kennedy, Crosby said, “I’ve been tracking him for a while. Over two years, actually. He’s a known abuser of women, the worst sort of scum you can imagine.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Madison murmured. “I have a very developed imagination.”
Kennedy gaped at her in horrified disbelief. “You’re treating this like a joke.”
Oh, my. Kennedy definitely knew something about the man. “I’m sincerely sorry,” she said, keeping her tone soft. “I never meant to make light of it.”
Kennedy firmed her lips and nodded.
Glancing at Crosby, Madison felt sure that he, too, saw how tightly strung Kennedy had gotten over the man. “Go on.”
He gave a small nod. “Golly moves around a lot, renting old houses where he’d keep women as prisoners. I finally tracked down his last house.”
Kennedy literally held her breath.
Until Crosby added, “But he wasn’t there.”
Covering her mouth with one hand, Kennedy frowned. “What do you mean, he wasn’t there? You had the wrong house?”
“Right house, but Golly was nowhere to be found.”
“How do you know it was the right house?” Madison asked.
“All the signs were there. A room in the basement meant to be a cell. A door with too damn many locks on it.” His right hand curled into a fist, and he rasped, “Blood on the floor.”
“That sounds horrid,” Madison whispered, no longer in a flirting mood.
“The worst nightmare a person could imagine.” Crosby sat forward, all his attention on Kennedy. “I had the right place, I know it. But Golly was gone, and so was his last victim.”
Kennedy said nothing, but her eyes went glassy with unshed tears.
Falling back on her training, Madison asked, “Did you check the yard? Sounds like old Golly might have a few bodies buried around the property.”
“Nothing at that house, but at another we found remains.”
Madison didn’t know how much longer Kennedy could hang on. She looked ready to implode, with fear, anger. Any minute now, Reyes would come crashing in and all hell would break loose. She would wait for him outside to warn him to behave, except that would mean leaving Kennedy alone with Crosby, and Reyes would be furious if she did that. If she took Kennedy with her, that would leave Crosby alone in Reyes’s house. Another sin in her brother’s eyes.
What to do?
“Tell me, Detective, when did you join the trafficking task force, and why were you tracking Golly in particular?” In her experience, most men enjoyed bragging. Not her brothers, not to strangers anyway, but for most other men it appeared to be a basic masculine trait.
Crosby surprised her silly by saying, “I’m not on a task force. My interest is personal, and you won’t distract me with your questions.” His smile looked the opposite of friendly, more like an issue of clear challenge. “I’d rather hear about you, your brothers and the head of it all, your father.”
CHAPTER NINE
REYES KEPT HIS foot pressed hard on the gas pedal, weaving in and out of traffic. With every minute that passed, every mile he covered, his blood burned hotter.
How fucking dare his sister let a stranger into his house? She knew better.
After he’d finished sparring with Cade, they’d both gone to their respective suites within their father’s immense mountain mansion to shower and change before meeting upstairs for drinks with Parrish. His father was keenly curious about Kennedy, and more than a little concerned about Reyes’s involvement with her.
He’d denied any involvement, of course.
Neither Cade nor Parrish had bought his denials. The McKenzies were razor-sharp and cut through BS like a hot knife through butter.
Reyes had geared up for the inquisition, especially when he informed Bernard that he’d be bringing Kennedy over to visit Chimera the cat. Then her text had come in, and his only thought had been getting to her.
Cade had made the spur-of-the-moment decision to follow him home, just in case there was real trouble, while Parrish had told Reyes to trust Madison.
Right. Logic told him that the cop likely wasn’t a stranger to his sister, but at the moment he didn’t care.
Finally he turned into the long drive to his home, going so fast that the truck tires kicked up dirt and gravel. He screeched to a halt outside the garage, next to the silver sedan.
Fuming, he jogged up the walk—and the front door opened.
Kennedy said, “I’m sorry I overreacted,” and then launched at him, her arms going tight around his neck.
Just as quickly, he moved her safely behind him and lifted his Glock.
Madison appeared next in the doorway. “I’d really prefer you not shoot the detective. Overall, he’s been very helpful.”
“Get out of the way, Madison.”
She crossed her arms. “No, I don’t think so. You’re running on emotio
n and you know that’s not wise.”
Yeah, he did know it, but feeling Kennedy tremble behind him, he didn’t give a shit.
Then she stepped around in front of him again, whispering, “Please don’t do anything dumb. I’m fine, but I desperately need to talk to you, and I can’t do that until Crosby and Madison are gone.”
Crosby? Now why the hell did that fry his ass? “You know the fucker’s first name?”
“Reyes,” Madison sighed, making the sound long and aggrieved. “Get a grip, will you?”
Behind him, Cade pulled up. The door of his SUV slammed with foreboding.
Madison threw up her hands. “I know Kennedy texted you. I know she was worried.” She came closer, stepping onto the walk, too. “But, Reyes, I promise there’s no reason.”
He was just about convinced when a man came out the door. “Honest to God, I’ve never before had two women trying to protect me.”
“Trying?” Madison repeated. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be eating dirt right now.”
“Maybe I’m not the slouch you think I am.”
Jesus, Joseph and Mary. He’d stepped into bedlam. Lowering the gun to his side, Reyes asked, “Do I need to kill him or not?”
Together, Madison and Kennedy said, “Not.”
“Fine.” He turned and shoved the gun into Kennedy’s hand. Horrified, she accepted it with the same enthusiasm she might give a cockroach.
To Cade, Reyes said, “Back off.”
Cade held up his hands. “No problem. I, at least, trust our sister.”
“Thank you,” Madison stated primly.
In two long strides, Reyes reached the handsome bastard standing just outside his front door. Smiling in evil anticipation, he threw a punch too fast for the other man to duck and clocked him right in the jaw.
Staggering back, cursing, Crosby caught himself and took an aggressive stance. “That’s not necessary, McKenzie.”
“It is if you don’t want me to rip you apart.” He grabbed Crosby’s arm and propelled him off the front porch to the yard.
