Don't Trust A Killer

by Cynthia Eden

  “You aren’t going to get away, Bree. I’ll finish you myself. You think I can’t? You think I won’t? You think—”

  “Get…away…from her…” A rough shout.

  Grayson’s shout.

  And then Abby was letting Bree go. The silk was still tight around her neck, but Bree found herself slumping over Franco’s prone body. She sucked in desperate gulps of air even as she rolled her body, twisting so that she could see what was happening and breaking free of the silk.

  Abby and Grayson were facing off. His hand was on his side, and he staggered forward.

  Abby jerked up her gun, yanking it from her waistband. “I don’t need you any longer, Grayson.”

  “Put…the gun…d-down.”

  Bree rubbed her wrists and the rope that bound them against the side of the mausoleum. Could she saw through the rope this way? Would it cut loose? Was the brick sharp enough?

  “I’m not putting the gun down.” Abby aimed the gun at Grayson’s chest. “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “I…helped you.”

  “No, you just took the bullshit stories I gave you. You were more than ready to frame Kace even without me. I simply told you what you wanted to hear, and you never questioned me. Hell, even when I told you that I’d nearly run down Bree—you didn’t balk. I think you were going to try and cover for me.” Laughter. “But I don’t need you covering for me. See, I have a plan in place. I’m just going to say that you did it all. You stole my car. You went after Bree when she wouldn’t help you lock up Kace. And in your fury, you killed her. Franco found you here in the cemetery. He shot you because the brave man was trying to save Bree, but it was too late—”

  “Dead men can’t shoot anyone,” Bree threw at her.

  Abby’s hand jerked. “He’s not dead.”

  “Yes, he is,” Bree told her as she kept struggling to cut through the rope around her wrists. “He hit his head on the tomb when he fell. Didn’t you hear the sound of his skull cracking? He’s not unconscious, Abby. He’s dead. Don’t believe me? Look for yourself.” The rope around her wrists gave way. “Look for—”

  Abby swung toward Bree.

  Grayson attacked. He slammed his body into Abby’s, but she fired. The bullet thundered in the night.

  Now that her hands were free, she clawed at the ropes around her feet. The knots started to loosen. She was almost out and—Yes! The ropes sagged around her ankles as Bree surged to her feet. Hell, yes.

  Abby was upright, towering over Grayson as she aimed her gun.

  Before she could fire again, Bree was on the other woman. Rope still dangled from Bree’s wrists, and she threw her arms over Abby’s head. Bree locked the loose rope around Abby’s neck, and she jerked as hard as she could.

  Abby gave a desperate gurgle as her hands flew up. The gun dropped to the ground, and Abby clawed at Bree’s hands.

  “Oh, hell, no,” Bree growled at her. “I’m not letting your ass go. Abby Johnson, you’re under arrest.”

  Abby twisted her body and kicked out at Bree.

  Bree dodged the kick and then shoved Abby forward, ramming the woman toward Marie Laveau’s tomb. Abby’s shoulder hit the side of the tomb, but then she shoved back against Bree, succeeding in getting the rope off her neck.

  Bree punched Abby. Twice. Busted her lip. Sent her head whipping to the side. Then she went in for a third punch—

  A gunshot blasted.

  Bree and Abby both froze for an instant. One instant. Then Bree’s head whipped to the left.

  Franco was on his feet, a gun gripped in his hand. He stared at Bree, the faint candlelight showing the shock on his face before he looked down. His lips parted as if he’d speak.

  Instead, his knees gave way, and Franco slumped to the ground.

  And Bree could see Kace. Kace, who’d been standing behind Franco. Kace, who’d just fired his gun and saved her ass. A wide smile split Bree’s lips even as Abby let out a guttural scream.

  Fuck that. Bree punched Abby in the stomach, and the other woman balled over, crying. “Told you,” she snarled. “You’re under arrest.” And I think your boyfriend is dead.

  All of the struggle seemed to leave Abby in a rush. Her body slumped as sobs shook her. Bree wasn’t about to let her guard down. She knew Abby could be acting. The woman was a cold-blooded killer. A manipulator to her core.

  “Check on the girl, Kace,” Bree said, her words tumbling out quickly. “Make sure she’s okay.” The girl on the ground hadn’t moved the whole time. “And Grayson—I think he was shot twice. He needs help!”

  Kace bent near the girl. Put his hands to her throat.

  “Bree!” A bellow. A familiar one. Dominic burst from the darkness, with uniformed cops right behind him. He took one look at the scene—and saw Kace with his gun and his body close to the unconscious girl. Dominic whipped up his weapon, aiming it at Kace.

  “No!” Bree let Abby go and lunged toward Kace. She put her body in front of him. “He saved me! Kace isn’t the killer! He. Saved. Me.”

  Dominic didn’t lower his gun.

  “Abby did it. Abby Johnson and Franco Wyels. They were behind all of the murders. They confessed everything.” She realized that her voice sounded a little broken. Probably because she’d been freaking strangled. “Get her cuffed. I don’t even know if Franco is still alive.”

  “He’s not.” Kace’s flat voice. “I killed him.”

  Her gaze darted to the ground. To Franco. His mouth hung open, and his body lay slumped on its side.

  “The girl’s alive,” Kace added. “Haven’t bothered to check on Grayson.”

  The uniforms had closed in on Abby. “Franco was supposed to have it all. It’s his turn!” Abby’s head whipped up as she glared at Bree and Kace. “His turn!”

  “It’s your turn to get your ass thrown in jail,” Bree rasped back.

  Abby tried to lunge for her, but the cops hauled her back.

  Dominic had finally lowered his gun. Karin rushed from the side of a tomb and joined the team working on Grayson. “Still alive!” Karin called out. “But we need an ambulance. He’s losing too much blood.”

  Bree hurried to kneel beside him. She put her hands over Grayson’s wounds, applying pressure. “He helped me,” she said, hating the blood that poured through her fingers. “If he hadn’t appeared and distracted Abby, she would have choked me to death.”

  The scene was chaos. Uniforms. Agents. Crime techs. A thousand lights soon lit up the place even as Grayson and the injured girl were rushed away in screaming ambulances.

  Blood stained Bree’s hands. Her throat ached. And when she looked to the right, Franco’s body was still sprawled on the ground.

  Kace hadn’t said much since the others had arrived, but he’d stayed close to her. As the madness reigned around them, his hand lifted, and he brushed back a lock of her hair. “God, baby, I wish I’d gotten here sooner.”

  She leaned into his touch. “I didn’t even realize Franco was still a threat. I managed to knock him out earlier. He hit the side of a tomb really hard. I didn’t know he’d gotten back up. Didn’t know he’d grabbed the gun.” She swallowed and felt the burn in her throat. “They would have killed me. If you hadn’t come—”

  His lips brushed over hers. “No, baby, I’m not so sure of that. I think you might have just fucking killed them both.”

  But it hadn’t come to that.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was so low. So rough.

  She wanted to grab tight to him, but she’d didn’t want to touch him with blood on her hands. Her fingers balled into fists. “Sorry?”

  “Franco was right beside me the whole time. I didn’t see him for what he was.”

  “Kace—”

  “I can’t lose you, Bree. You matter to me, more than anything else.”

  Her heart was racing so fast and hard in her chest. His lips pressed to hers once more.

  “Bree!” Dominic called.

  There were questions to be answered. D
ozens and dozens of questions. But she didn’t want to leave Kace.

  “Come to me when it’s all over. Come to me when you want to crash. I’ll be waiting on you.” Kace stared into her eyes. “I love you, Bree Harlow.”

  What? “Y-you don’t get to make a confession like that at a crime scene.”

  He smiled. “Of course, I do.”

  “Kace…”

  “The cops are gonna want to haul me downtown so I can answer their endless questions. I’ll play their game. Then they’ll let me go.” His words were low, only for her. “When you’re done with your job, you’ll come to me. I’ll tell you my secrets. You’ll tell me yours. Then you’ll have to decide…can you stay with me, knowing all that I’ve done? Or will you turn me in?”

  Before she could answer, he pressed another kiss to her lips. “Either way, Bree, I’ll fucking love you until I die.”

  “Bree!” Dominic yelled.

  Kace turned away. Started to walk through the crowd. He didn’t get far, though. As he’d predicted, the cops and agents closed in.

  I’ll fucking love you until I die.

  He hadn’t asked her if she loved him. He hadn’t asked her how she felt at all. If he had, she would have told him…

  I’ll fucking love you until I die, Kace Quick.

  ***

  “Kace!” Remy shouted his name as Kace was led out of the cemetery. Reporters had already gathered. Hardly a surprise. After all, not one killer, but two had been found that night.

  Franco. Freaking Franco. A betrayer who’d been right under Kace’s nose, just as Abby had been. He should have seen the truth sooner. But he’d been distracted by other things. He’d failed. And that failure had almost cost Bree her life.

  “Kace, what happened in there?” Remy asked as Kace was pushed toward a patrol car. “Why are they arresting you?”

  Kace smiled at him. “Because I killed a man.”

  Remy’s jaw dropped.

  “Shot him, and if I had to do it all over again, I’d do the same fucking thing.” He slid into the back of the vehicle. The cops were being ever-so-courteous. Mostly because those two were on his payroll. Not that he’d give away that detail to anyone.

  “Don’t confess,” Remy muttered. “Jesus, man, I’ll get your lawyer. She’ll meet you—”

  “Confessing is easy on this one.” He rolled back his shoulders as he relaxed into the seat. “Sometimes, you kill and you become the hero.”

  Remy’s eyes went wide.

  The cop slammed the back door before Kace could say anything else. That was okay. He didn’t have much else to say to Remy.

  He’d killed a man. Hadn’t hesitated. But this time, the Press wouldn’t paint him as the sick killer. Franco and Abby—they’d been the ones strangling the women in New Orleans. He’d just stopped a rabid monster when he’d shot Franco.

  The patrol car’s blue lights flashed on as the siren wailed.

  Sometimes, you kill and you become the hero.

  His own words slipped through his mind as the car drove away, and unease slithered through Kace. He glanced back. Saw the entrance to the cemetery. Bree was still inside.

  He’d killed to protect her. He would do it, over and over again if necessary.

  And Bree had stared at him like he was a hero. Then she’d put herself in front of him. Protected him from Dominic.

  Sometimes, you kill…

  He thought of Bree’s past. Of the nightmares that haunted her.

  And you become the hero.

  ***

  “Did you give Franco a warning before you fired?” Dominic stared straight at Kace as he threw out the question.

  Kace didn’t know how many hours had passed. Didn’t really care, either. He’d been at the station, Deidre had been raising her usual lawyerly hell, and Bree…

  He hadn’t seen her.

  She’s okay. She’s alive. She’s safe.

  And she would come to him. He knew it.

  “My client didn’t have time to yell out a warning,” Deidre’s voice dripped ice. “The attacker—a serial killer—was preparing to shoot at a federal agent. He did the only thing that he could. He took out his gun, and he fired it. It’s a lucky thing that Kace Quick is such a fine shot. He saved not just Bree Harlow, but Grayson Wesley, and that young girl, Maureen West. If he hadn’t stopped Franco, they could have all died.”

  Kace kept his relaxed pose.

  Dominic’s considering gaze swept over him. “Maybe you fired because you didn’t want Franco to have the chance to tell the world about your involvement in the crimes. Maybe you were—”

  “How dare you accuse my client—” Deidre began as she jumped to her feet.

  Kace sighed. This was getting old. “I know you found the evidence at Abby’s house. And now that Franco’s on a slab some place…” Kace shrugged. “I’m betting that Abby is telling the world her story. She and Franco have been a couple for years. I just didn’t realize that they were the couple that killed together.”

  Dominic’s lips flattened. Karin stood behind him. Watching. Waiting. Judging.

  Kace offered a thin smile before saying, “I’m not tied to any of the murders they committed. I shot Franco to stop him from hurting Bree, plain and simple. I wasn’t trying to save anyone else. It was just about her.” He hadn’t even seen the others there. He’d only seen her. “If I’d realized what he was sooner, what he and Abby were doing, I would have stopped them.”

  “You would have killed them, you mean,” Dominic clarified as his brows lowered.

  “Is that what I mean?” Yes, it was.

  Deidre grabbed her briefcase. “You have an eye witness. I know that Bree Harlow has already given you her sworn statement, attesting to the fact that my client saved her life. Now, unless there is anything else that we need to cover, we’re done here.”

  Dominic’s lips parted.

  “We’re done,” Karin said softly. “Mr. Quick, thank you for your cooperation.”

  Taking his time, Kace rose from his chair. “Always happy to cooperate with the authorities.”

  Karin’s lips twitched. “I’m sure you are.”

  He headed for the door, but stopped near Karin. “Where is Bree?”

  “Getting checked at the hospital. I insisted on it. There was too much bruising on her neck. Told her either she went willingly or I’d have a patrol team cuff her and take her in.”

  “Thank you.”

  Karin inclined her head. He stepped into the hallway. Deidre was already up ahead, her elegant heels clicking on the tiles. The middle of the night, and she was still dressed to kill.

  “I misjudged you.” Karin’s quiet voice stopped him.

  Kace looked back. “No, you didn’t.”

  Her lips parted, but he was already walking away.

  ***

  The morning sky was blood red as the sun slowly rose to begin its trek across the sky.

  “Ah, you sure this is where you want to be, Agent Harlow?” The uniformed cop nervously edged closer to her.

  She gave him a distracted smile. “I’m sure. Thanks for the ride.”

  She strode toward the gate, and as she approached, it swung open for her. Bree knew that Kace was inside his mansion. Watching. Waiting.

  Good.

  She climbed the steps leading to his home, and the front door opened as soon as she put her foot on the sweeping front porch. He stood in the doorway, clad in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that stretched across his powerful chest. He held out his hand to her, and, not hesitating at all, Bree’s fingers reached for his. Kace pulled her closer, got her to step over the threshold and into his home, and even as the door shut behind her, he was tipping back her head.

  Her lips parted because she was so ready for his kiss—

  “The bruising is bad, Bree.”

  He wasn’t kissing her. His fingers were feathering over her neck.

  “I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

  She pulled her hand free
of his. Put her fingers on his hard jaw and stared into his eyes. “You were there exactly when you needed to be.”

  His blue stare was electric with intensity. “They were going to kill you. I always think I know who is next to me. Always think I check people out, but I missed them. I didn’t see them.”

  “Neither did I. Neither did any of the other agents or the cops. Because they were making you out to be the monster. They were setting you up too well.” She rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his. “But you’re not the monster.”

  For a moment, he kissed her back. His tongue thrust into her mouth as he kissed her with a ravenous need. His arm locked around her waist as Kace hauled her closer to him. She could feel the thick length of his erection pressing against her. She could feel—

  “I killed him, Bree.” He pressed his forehead against hers.

  “I know. You did it for me. You—”

  “Sheldon Taggert was in my bar. And, yeah, I know a nineteen-year-old punk kid isn’t supposed to own a bar, but let’s just say I did a ton of shit then—and since—that maybe I wasn’t supposed to do. The law and I haven’t always been close.” He exhaled. “The bastard was drinking his ass off. Talking about how he killed Brittney. He confessed. On the anniversary of her death, he just flat out said what he’d done.” Kace pulled from her. Turned and stalked down the hallway.

  Bree followed him even as her stomach twisted.

  He entered his study. Headed for his desk. His hands slammed down in the surface as he braced himself, with his back to her. “He had a wreck. The dumb SOB had drunk too much. I’d followed him. I’d followed him because from the minute he walked into my bar that night, I knew I was going to kill him.”

  Bree didn’t speak. She just waited.

  “I saw the crash. I climbed off my motorcycle. I went to him. I could have gotten him out, Bree. I could have done that. I didn’t. Because when I stared at him, I saw her. I found her body, you know. Hell, of course, you know. You’ve read all the files on me.” His head sagged forward. “I looked at him, tangled in the seat belt, trapped, and I saw her. The way she’d been when I found her body. She looked the same to me, at first. Her eyes were closed, her face so beautiful. Like she was just sleeping. Until you looked at her neck. Until you saw the circle of deep bruises around her neck.” He pulled in a shuddering breath and turned toward her. His gaze went straight to Bree’s throat. “Her neck looked just like yours. Same damn bruises. They tried to do the same thing to you.”