Madam Temptress

by Meghan March

  Cavender’s head bobs, and I sense there’s a good possibility he already knows exactly what club I’m talking about. Especially since he doesn’t ask for clarification.

  “Did she give you any reason to think she might have been in trouble or that she was fearing for her safety?”

  I shake my head, and it’s not a lie. Desiree wasn’t in trouble. She wasn’t afraid.

  What happened to her had nothing to do with her. It was because the sick motherfucker couldn’t get to me. Which isn’t fucking fair. Guilt cinches around my lungs like barbed wire, and Cavender’s next question just twists it tighter.

  “Do you have any idea who may have wanted her dead? Or even who might have killed her?”

  I pin Cavender with a glare. “If I had a name to give you that you could use to track down Desiree’s killer, I would give it to you. Gladly. Immediately. But please believe me when I say I don’t have one. In fact, while you’re wasting your time with me, the killer could be getting away. Do you want that? Do you want them to get away with this?” My voice rises with the raw emotions hitting me again.

  “So, no guesses then? Nothing?”

  I almost breathe a sigh of relief that Cavender didn’t pick apart the way I answered his prior question.

  Fields jumps in to take this one. “As Ms. Maison said, she’d give you a name if she had one. Do you have any other questions she could possibly answer to help with your investigation? If not, Ms. Maison has appointments this afternoon to get to.”

  Cavender gives the lawyer a hard stare before turning his attention back to me. “You’ve had a lot going on lately, Ms. Maison. Someone gets killed in your condo building. You move out the next day. Then there’s the break-in where someone wrote on your wall with blood, explicitly saying they’re coming to get you. Which, by the way, the lab matched the DNA found to yet another ongoing homicide investigation.”

  I jerk back in my seat, my mind immediately going to Laura Brandon. Her throat was slit the same night my condo was broken into, and Moses and the guys reasoned out what they thought happened to her.

  “Which other homicide investigation?” I ask Cavender, deliberately playing dumb.

  “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to give you more information on that case, unless for some reason you think you have a connection to a third dead body.”

  Cavender is fishing, but I’m not taking the bait.

  “She doesn’t have any information, Detective. Ms. Maison is self-employed and runs a very successful and completely legal business which should be of no interest to your department in any way. She agreed to come in to talk with you on her own very valuable time, and if you don’t have any further questions that are relevant to this investigation, then we’ll be on our way so Ms. Maison can return to work,” Fields says, sounding so polite as he delivers the equivalent of a fuck you to the cop.

  “Just one more thing,” Cavender says, reaching into a manila envelope. He pulls out what looks like an evidence bag and tosses it on the table. “Recognize this?”

  It’s a knife crusted with dried blood. Desiree’s blood. I jerk back in my seat as the knife slides to a stop in front of me.

  “That was uncalled for, Detective,” Fields says, his tone sharp as he reprimands the cop.

  But there’s no need. I understand exactly why the detective is playing this game.

  “Is that . . . is that what killed Desiree?” I ask with a very real tremor in my voice.

  “One of the murder weapons. The only one we’ve been able to find so far. Why? Have you seen it before?”

  I shake my head because I can’t find my voice to lie.

  I have seen the knife before. I gave it to Desiree for protection. And it’s a duplicate of the one I used to kill Ortiz in the elevator in my building.

  Twenty-Four

  Moses

  As soon as Magnolia is in the Maybach and on the way to Mount’s, I want to race after her and beat her there, but I can’t.

  We have to take another route and wind back and forth around the city, so we can watch for a tail. A tail I want to kill because he’s the reason my woman was in the police station in the first place.

  Antonio Reyes is going down, and I’m going to be the one to take him out. He’ll pay for every bit of fear he’s instilled in Magnolia. No one does that to my woman and gets away with it.

  When we finally reach Mount’s a half hour later, Jules and I are out of the SUV as fast as we can move. V steps out of the garage. Apparently, he’s been waiting for us. I hand the keys off to him with only one thing on my mind.

  “Where is she?”

  He jerks his head toward the garage we exited through on the way to the station.

  With the driving need to see Magnolia with my own two eyes and make sure she’s okay after the interview with the cop, I charge through the garage and yank open the door that leads inside. The twisting and winding hallways are like a fucking labyrinth, and it takes me three wrong turns to find my way back to our suite.

  “Mags?” I call her name as I push open the door. “You here, mama?”

  “In here.”

  I follow her ragged voice into the bedroom and stop short as soon as I pass through the doorway. Magnolia is on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tight around them.

  Rushing to her, I drop onto the carpet and pull her into my arms. “What’s wrong, baby? You okay?”

  Her whole body vibrates as she shakes her head. “I’m working on it. But . . .”

  “What happened?” I demand, wishing I could wrap my hands around Cavender’s throat and squeeze for whatever he did or said that put Magnolia into this state. I tamp down the rage, though, because taking care of her comes first.

  “The murder weapon . . .” Another shudder goes through her as she searches for words.

  The mention of the murder weapon unleashes a mental picture I don’t want to see again. I can still smell the coppery tang of blood as I walked into the room where we found Desiree’s lifeless, dismembered body. I push the vision out of my head, forcing myself to focus on Magnolia.

  “It’s okay, mama. You’re okay. Whatever the fucking detective did or showed you, none of it can get you. You’re here with me. I’ve got you now. Forever. I’m not letting anyone hurt you again.”

  She lifts her watery gaze to mine, and unshed tears turn her whiskey eyes even glassier. “He used Desiree’s stiletto to kill her. I gave her that knife.”

  The crushing guilt she must feel almost smashes us both into the carpet. “Fuck. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you don’t understand. I have one exactly like it. I used it to kill the guy in the elevator. Do you think he knew? Is that why he did what he did to her?” Magnolia holds back a sob as she says it, and I tighten my arms around her.

  “Oh, baby. Hush. Fuck. No. He couldn’t know that. No fucking way. The cops haven’t made anything to do with his brother’s death public.”

  “Are you sure?” Her question carries a ragged edge.

  “I’m sure, mama. If she had it out, it might’ve just been a weapon of opportunity. I don’t think he knew.”

  She blinks back the tears gathering in her eyes, and I want to kill the fuckers for putting them there. All of them. Reyes, Ortiz, and Cavender. Seeing a woman who is strong, capable, and formidable, curled up practically in a ball on the floor, guts me. And then she hits me with something else that’s heavy on her mind.

  “But aren’t they going to think the same person killed both of them?”

  Fuck. That’s not something I put together. Shit.

  “Hey, hey. No. Let’s not worry about that. You didn’t kill Desiree, and the cops know that. What happened to her wasn’t something a woman would do. Trust me, mama. They have to know that. Fuck it, if anything, they’ll think whoever killed Desiree killed Ricardo first.”

  She blinks again. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “One hundred percent.”

  But even
as I say it, a possibility comes to life in my head. What if they do try to tie the murders together? What if they get lazy and pin it all on Magnolia?

  “Where is your knife?” I ask.

  Her gaze turns sharp. “Why?”

  “Because that’s something we gotta get rid of. No evidence, mama. We toss it so there’s never a concern.”

  “I should’ve done that already,” she says, tapping her head in frustration against my shoulder. “God, I know better than this shit. Why didn’t I get rid of it?”

  I think of the way I found her that night, stitching up her own side where he cut her. “You were a little busy. But if you tell me where it is, I’ll make it disappear. It’s what I’m good at.”

  “It’s in my house in the Quarter, in the safe in my closet. It’s clean. No blood, no prints. I made sure of that, at least. I was going to toss it, but . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Now, let’s get you up. You need a shower. Get the police station grime off you. You’ll feel better.”

  I rise and pull her with me, and she locks her arms around me.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  Staring down at her dark hair, I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You don’t need to thank me for anything.”

  “Yeah, I do,” she says with a hiccup, gazing up at me. “I don’t know what would be happening right now if you weren’t here. I’d be handling this shit myself because I’m no good at asking for help. But I’m really, really glad I’m not alone right now, Moses.”

  I tighten my hold around her. “You’re never gonna be alone again, mama. Whatever comes, we handle it together. That’s how it works from here on out. We’re a team, and I’m not letting anything happen to you. I waited too damn long for my second chance to risk throwing it all away.”

  She lays her cheek against my chest, and we stand there for a moment, saying nothing. When she finally pulls back, I catch a single tear on the pad of my thumb.

  “What’s next?” she asks.

  “I’ll go check on Trey’s progress and hope he’s got an address for our guy, and then we’ll put together a plan to take him out. I’m sick of him being two steps ahead of us. It’s time we catch the fuck up.”

  Twenty-Five

  Magnolia

  After my shower, Moses goes in search of Trey, but I stay in the room, the vision of the blood-encrusted stiletto seared into my head.

  Once my hair is dry, I venture out to the living room, feeling at a loss for what to do with myself. With my girls away and business on hold, there’s not much for me to work on. I can’t remember the last time I had this much free time on my hands. The hustle I’m so used to has come to a complete standstill because of the asshole who attacked me in the elevator.

  I wander to the chess board, trailing my fingers over the pieces. Other women might wonder how different their life would have been if they’d gone with Moses or if Moses had stayed, but I don’t waste any time on that.

  There’s no going back.

  You get one chance to make a decision, and then you have to live with the consequences of it.

  But what I said to Moses earlier is completely true. I don’t know how I’d be handling this without him. I’m a strong woman. That’s a fact. But I’m also smart enough to realize this could have gone a hell of a lot differently if Moses’s timing to return to me had been off by just a day or two.

  A knock at the door distracts me from my thoughts, and I’m grateful for it. Melancholy ain’t my thing.

  I cross the room and pull the door open to find Keira. Her expression radiates empathy.

  “Are you okay?”

  Shrugging, I answer, “Okay enough.”

  Keira throws her arms around my shoulders and hugs me, and I accept the comfort she offers. Right now, I’ll take what relief I can get.

  “I hate that you’re going through this. I want it over.”

  “You and me both, girl. You and me both.” I give her a hard squeeze before she pulls back.

  “So, what now?”

  I release a long breath. “Hell if I know. I don’t even know what to do with myself right this minute. Can’t say I’ve ever been in this situation before.”

  Knowingly, she gives me a rueful smile. “Lockdown is no fun. Trust me, this is something I’m all too familiar with.”

  I think of the man my best friend is married to, how it came to be, and again hope I made the right moves where that was concerned.

  Keira must read something on my face because her features sharpen. “I wouldn’t trade this for the world, Mags. So stop with whatever you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, you read minds now, Ke-ke?”

  She rolls her eyes. “When it comes to you, sometimes I can. I was actually coming to ask if you’d do me a favor.”

  “Name it,” I say without hesitation. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Keira. That’s the plain and simple truth.

  “Rory’s nanny is off tonight, and Lachlan and I have to—”

  “Yes,” I reply, not even letting her finish. “I’ll watch your baby girl anytime you need.”

  She sucks her bottom lip in her mouth for a beat. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Just grab me when you need me.”

  Her head tips to the side, and she grimaces. “What about Moses? Do you think he’ll be cool playing babysitter?”

  I recall what I said to him about wanting a baby and how his face lit up. “He’ll be just fine. Probably good practice for him.”

  Keira’s eyes bug out. “Oh my God. Are you . . . are you pregnant?”

  The laughter spilling from my lips is totally due to the shell-shocked look on my best friend’s face.

  “No. Not yet, anyway. But I’m pretty sure that’s where we’re headed next.”

  Keira throws herself at me again, and this time her arms lock around me like a vise. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all freaking year! I’m so happy for you, Mags.”

  I squeeze her hard, feeling the love pour off her. Keira is one of a kind and absolutely too good for me. “Thank you, babe. I appreciate it.”

  She releases me once more and her eyes glisten as she gapes at me. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy,” she says, and I believe her.

  “I’m working on it, Ke-ke. I promise.”

  For the first time, I believe myself too.

  A buzz comes from Keira’s pocket, and she pulls out her phone. “Crap. I’m supposed to be on a conference call right now. I’ll be back shortly. Thank you so much for agreeing to watch Rory tonight.”

  “Anything for you. You know that.”

  She blows me a kiss and backs out of the room, leaving me alone again with my thoughts.

  When Moses returns an hour later, the first thing I notice is the frustration on his stony face as he closes the door behind him.

  “Mama?”

  “Right here,” I say from the chair in front of the empty fireplace.

  He turns toward me, a smile replacing the strain on his features. “Didn’t see you there. You doing okay?”

  I rise as he closes the distance between us. “Are you okay? I saw your expression when you came in. Trey couldn’t find an address, could he?”

  The smile Moses had pasted on fades as he shakes his head. “No. This bastard knows how to hide, even from all Trey’s tricks.”

  “Has that ever happened before?”

  “We’re usually the ones wiping all the information about people, so we know where to look for things that usually get missed. But this guy . . . he’s smart. It’s pissing me the fuck off.”

  Moses reaches up to grip the back of his neck, and I step into the heat radiating off his body and lay my palms against his solid chest.

  I try to give him what he’s been giving me—reassurance, support, and hope. “We’ll end this, one way or another. What about Mount? Any leads from his side of things?”

  Moses’s arm wraps around my body, anchoring me against him lik
e he doesn’t want to give me the opportunity to step away. I’m okay with that, especially because I have no plans to retreat. I don’t need space. Not from him. Not anymore.

  “Nothing yet, but he’s got eyes all over the city watching.”

  “We will find him,” I say with conviction. “He’s going to pay for what he’s done.”

  Moses leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Damn right. But until then, Trey won’t stop digging, and I’m just . . .” He trails off, and it hits me that he’s probably as unfamiliar with inactivity as I am.

  I fill in the silence. “We’re babysitting Rory tonight.”

  Moses jerks back and peers down at me. “Babysitting? Can’t say that’s something I’ve ever done before.”

  “I suppose it’s about time we both learn.” A sense of peace comes over me when I add, “Together.”

  Twenty-Six

  Moses

  “Anything happens to her while you’re in charge, and I. Kill. You. No questions.” Mount’s tone is even, but he means every word he says, based on the way he stares at the little auburn-haired girl clinging to her mama’s neck.

  “I get it. She’s your world,” I say. Honestly, someone would have to go through me and Magnolia to get to Rory tonight anyway.

  Mount’s dark gaze lifts to spear mine. “You don’t get it. Until you’ve held your own child, you won’t.”

  He’s right, so I don’t argue.

  “Nothing will happen to her. You have my word.”

  Mount’s jaw is stiff as he gauges me, but finally he nods. “We’ll be back in three hours. V will be posted outside the door of whatever room you’re in at all times.”

  It’s gotta be rough leaving his whole world in the care of someone like me, so I don’t press him. “Got it.”

  “Are you done trying to scare the hell out of the people who are doing us a favor?” Mount’s wife asks as she comes toward him.