“I can carry that for you if you’d like,” I immediately offered, giving her my most charming grin.
Her smile was tight. “Not hardly.”
I wanted to tell her that I was only kidding, but I doubted she would've taken that well either. I figured I’d give her time to work out her frustrations in the gym, and maybe afterwards, she’d ease up on me a little bit. Just because sleeping together had been a bad idea didn’t mean she had to go all ice princess on me. After all, she'd been the one who, as a teenager, had made fun of characters on TV who couldn't be mature adults after they’d screwed.
And that's all I was asking of her. Mature cordiality. I didn't think that was too much to hope for.
I didn’t know what to expect when we walked into the gym several minutes later, but the main workout room was packed. All the weight lifting equipment was in one half of the room while the other half belonged to exercise bikes, stair masters, tread mills, and classes. Karis took me straight back to the locker rooms, pointed out the men's and then headed into the women's, the glare she sent my way giving me a non-verbal warning. I dropped my own things into an empty locker, then waited for her to join me.
“Use whatever you like,” she said. “If you so much as step a single toe outside, I'll have you cuffed and in jail before you can stick a second one out.”
I nodded and headed over to where the free weights were located. I picked up a pair and chose one of the few empty seats, one that had a clear line of sight of almost the entire room.
Including the stair master Karis was walking toward.
Like almost every other man in the room, my eyes were glued to her as she set the machine and then climbed on. I watched her legs work up and down, her firm ass flexing. I tried not to think about how her body had felt underneath me. How smooth her skin was. The way her breasts fit perfectly in my hands.
I loved watching her exercise. She'd always been athletic, and her body had grown to fit that part of her. She'd had a bit of an awkward phase when she first hit her growth spurt, but I saw none of that now. She was all grace and power.
And I wasn't the only one who noticed. Men – and a couple women – kept looking her way. Some merely gave her an appreciative once over and then returned to whatever they'd been doing, but there were others who seemed as spellbound as I. Many of the women who weren't checking her out flat-out glared.
A burst of pride went through me when I thought that I'd had her, and none of them ever would. It faded as quickly as it came when the following thought reminded me that I didn't have her. She wasn't mine.
“Hey, buddy, you done here?” a large muscle-bound weightlifter asked me.
“Yeah, man, I’m sorry. I must have zoned out for a moment.”
I got up from the bench and let him take over with the weights. It was only then that I noticed a few women had been checking me out too. Normally, I would've taken full advantage of their attention, taking one back to my hotel, or even having a go in the closest private space I could find. Now, however, I barely glanced at any of them.
Karis had moved to a treadmill, and the one next to her was open, so I snagged it before some preppy-looking pretty-boy could. She didn’t seem to notice that I was there; well, either that or she was ignoring me. One was as much a possibility as the other. I only hoped that she hadn't wanted someone else to take the spot next to her. My stomach twisted at the thought of some other man being here, watching her, talking to her. Wanting her. Getting her.
Before I could stop myself from going there, it hit me. I wanted more from her than just her help in my case. I wanted her. I wanted us. It wasn’t just nostalgia, the fond memories of our childhood bleeding over into our present lives. It wasn't even a childhood crush needing closure.
It was her. The woman she'd become as much as the child she'd been. The strength in those light blue-gray eyes. Her dedication to her job and the principles it represented. It was the fact that, no matter what, I knew I could still count on her. She had my back even when she hated what I did.
I knew that I wasn't the person I should be, that my past had turned me into someone different, but Karis was exactly the person she always would have been. Kind. Loyal. Fierce. Hard-working. She was the kind of woman who any man would be lucky to have.
And the thought of any man getting her made me sick to my stomach. I didn't only want the physical part of her. I wanted all of her.
More than that, I wanted to become the sort of man she would want too. The kind of man who might, someday, come close to being the man she deserved. She made me want to become better. Become more.
I just had no clue how to do it.
Or if it would even make a difference.
All I knew was that I had to try.
Chapter Three
Karis
“Coffee?” Benita asked even though she already had three in one of those carrier things.
“Oh, yes, thank you.” I looked up from the stack of paperwork I'd been buried in from the moment I'd arrived.
Benita had been busy this weekend too, and she'd actually managed to accomplish something. Every unsolved file we had was sitting on our desks. The moment I saw them, I'd felt extremely guilty, and it hadn't helped when Benita pulled me aside to let me know that she'd taken care of monitoring Bron's tracker all weekend so that Colman wouldn’t know I'd taken our suspect home with me. All he knew was that we'd changed plans because of a possible threat. He'd been more than happy to let my partner do the leg work.
“Black for you.” She handed me a warm, comforting cup. “And I don’t know how you take yours, Broderick, so I brought some sugar and cream for you to add your own.”
“Black is fine,” Bron said. “And, please, Agent Alverez, you can call me Bron. Everyone else does.” He glanced at me. “Have since I was a kid.”
She chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I guess that’ll work. Hell, you’re practically family now.” She glanced down at his tracking device.
“It’s starting to grow on me,” he said, giving her one of those charming smiles.
“They’re pretty stylish these days,” Benita added. Her chartreuse eyes glinted, and I knew that she could see right through his charm. “So, guys, what do we have so far?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “No mention of Uaine Leconte or any of the aliases Bron knows.”
“Oh, so you’ve decided to admit that you know him now?” Benita looked at both of us with raised eyebrows.
“It’s amazing what you can get when you give someone a little breathing room,” Bron retorted and sipped his coffee.
“Uh-huh,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
I cleared my throat, cheeks flushing. “Benita.” I gave her a sharp look, and she winked at me.
“So, where are we then?” Benita flipped through some of the files on my desk.
“I’ve run every address in every file against the list Arielle gave us and the ones Bron knew. Nothing matches up. Some of them don’t even exist,” I told her.
“How did that happen?” Her frowned. “I mean, I can understand at the local police station, but our databases usually flag fake ones as soon as we enter them. There's no way they should've been in the files as anything other than fake. You sure, Rookie?”
“I’ve gone through them all,” I reiterated.
Bron chimed in. “Someone like Uaine has connections on both sides of the law. It's possible he’s called on some of his contacts to get those fake addresses to stay in the system.”
“Dammit,” she swore. “Some grifter out there calling the shots at the federal level. Locals are bad enough.”
“Oh, come on, Alverez. It’s not like he’s the first criminal to get their hands on corrupt agents,” I argued.
“Yeah, good point,” she reluctantly agreed, and then sighed. “Just pisses me off, that's all.”
“Me too,” I said. “But if we can find Uaine, maybe w
e can find out who's on his payroll too.”
She nodded. “Well, do we know anything else about him that can lead us to him? Did you have someone go by and check his apartment from last time?”
“I asked a couple agents to go by first thing. They were back in less than an hour.” I didn't bother to try to hide my frustration. “Get this. The girl at the desk, the one who wasn’t about to be helpful last time, willingly told them that Uaine was gone, and she didn’t know when he’d be back. They asked if he still rented the place, and she said she couldn’t answer, just that he wasn’t there.”
“Are they still there?” Benita asked.
“I sent them back to watch the apartment, but I'm not too hopeful.” I blew out a breath. “Chances are, if he was thinking about coming back any time soon, he knows they’re there now, so he probably won’t be back until he thinks it’s safe.”
Benita leaned back, a puzzled expression on her face. “Last time, it seemed almost easy to find him.”
“That’s because last time, he wanted to be found,” Bron said quietly. His pleased expression had vanished, replaced by something darker. “Last time, he knew you were coming, and he was waiting for you. He likes to play games like that.”
A chill ran down my spine. “How do you know that?” I chose my words carefully. “Are you in contact with him?”
“No, I haven’t been in contact with him for a while, but if you found him, it’s because he wanted you to find him.” His voice was even. “You talked to Arielle?”
I nodded.
“She may have told him you were looking for him,” he said.
Shit.
Benita snapped her head around to face Bron. “You mean she’s probably still in touch with him?”
“No one is ever fully out of touch with Uaine,” Bron said wryly. “Not even the ones of us who don't want anything to do with him anymore. He keeps tabs on all of us.” He paused, and then added, “Leticia Backman’s murder was probably a message to me.”
“What was the message?” I asked. I didn't like the sound of that at all.
“Most likely that he’s watching me, and he knows what’s going on.” He hesitated before adding, “And to keep my mouth shut.”
“Should we be worried?” I asked.
Bron shook his head. “I’m not worried about Uaine. He’s going to keep his distance while you guys are involved. Doesn't want to risk tipping his hand. Either he’s gone underground because he knows you’ll be looking for him now that you’ve got me – especially after Mrs. Backman's murder – or he’s biding his time until you’re finished with me. That’s when I’ll need to worry about him.”
I wasn't sure what was worse, wondering about how we were going to find Uaine, or worrying about him finding us. “So, again, should we be worried that he’s going to try something?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I'm sure he’s too busy trying to hide right now. Or thinking through another game.”
“If he’s so good at hiding, how do we find him?” Benita snapped. “Forget we’re trying to find him for a second, and imagine you’re trying to find him to do a job with him. How do you find him?”
“Going through my contacts won’t work anymore,” he said after a moment. “By now everyone knows the Feds have me. There’s nothing I can do without letting him know I'm definitely working with you guys. But there is a second option.”
I glanced at Benita, and she gestured for him to continue.
“We draw him out,” Bron finally said.
“Oh, that should be easy!” Benita laughed as she shook her head. “What do we do, put up a billboard that tells him to meet us somewhere?”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to Bron. “How do we draw Uaine out of hiding?”
“Nothing gets his attention like a high society party. It's a combination of two things he can't resist: wealth and prestige.”
“So, do we convince someone to throw one, or what?” Benita asked, seeming amused by the idea.
“No,” I said. “We look around the elite in the area and see if any of them are throwing any big parties. That should be easy enough.”
“All right. You start digging through magazines,” she said. “I’ll get on the phone and start calling around to see what I can find.”
I groaned as I turned to my computer and began pulling up all of the magazines and newspapers that usually covered the sort of social event Bron was talking about.
“You know, if all else fails, we could convince someone to throw a party for us, just to draw him out,” Bron suggested with a grin. “Just in case there’s not anything coming up.”
I rolled my eyes and kept on working. We knew Uaine was a dangerous person – Bron knew that better than anyone – but he almost seemed to be enjoying himself.
A small part of me almost wanted to hope that I was the reason he was in a good mood, but I knew that wasn't the case. It couldn't be, not after I'd completely blown him off yesterday morning. I needed to consider myself fortunate that he was being pleasant at all.
The day wore on. Bron combed through print magazines and the local paper, brought in courtesy of our own Colman Gau, who seemed to keep his distance as long as Bron was in the office. I got the impression that Colman was going to make sure he could claim ignorance if things went sideways but still be able to get credit if we did well. Typical of my boss. I listened as Benita made call after call, exhausting her contacts with local news media and socialites she’d tapped as informants before. I came up with nothing in my searches.
“Shit-all dead end,” I proclaimed as I tossed my pencil onto the desk.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bron said. He ran his hand through his hair, and judging by the look of it, he'd been repeating that gesture a lot.
Benita hung up her phone, the discouraged expression on her face telling me everything I needed to know. I slid my chair back from my computer screen and looked at Bron.
“What did you find?” I asked.
His face was blank as he read from the paper. “The Backman Estate is holding a memorial ball and estate auction.”
“When is it?” Benita asked.
“Saturday night,” he answered. “The invitation just went up on the Backman website about ten minutes ago. They’re selling everything according to this.”
“That seems a bit quick,” I said.
Benita crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, very quick.”
“Not really,” Bron replied. “Leticia didn't have any family, and when that's the case, attorneys are usually ready to step in and get everything taken care of as quickly as possible.” His face colored and he looked off to the side. “It's my job to know things like this.”
After an awkward moment, Benita spoke, “Leconte will never show his face there. He’ll see that ad and think it’s a trap we set for him. There’s got to be something else.”
I forced myself to look at Bron, to not think about how he'd come to know so much about these things. “You know him better than anyone else here. What do you think?”
He thought for a minute before answering, “It could really go either way. There’s a good chance he’ll see it as a ploy. If it were me, I’d assume the police or FBI would be waiting for me to show, so I'd head the other way. At the same time, this is Uaine we’re talking about. He’s not scared of the authorities. He’s in hiding because he doesn’t want to deal with the hassle, but he likes the game. Loves the game. He might very well come out just to watch us watching him. He knows you have nothing on him and he would enjoy flaunting that knowledge.”
I scowled at my computer. Bron was right. We didn’t have anything solid on the asshole, so what would be the point in attending the function anyway?
Bron tapped his fingers on the desk, clearly processing the options. “In addition to his ego, he wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity for a con, especially if he could get away with it under the Feds noses.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
r /> He met my eyes. “Many wealthy people are eager to get their hands on that estate. If I had to put money on it, I’d say this party would be damn near irresistible to him.”
I looked at Benita. She shrugged. “Count me out, but if you think it’ll work, by all means go.” She grinned at me. “Takes a lot more than a maybe to get this woman in a slinky dress and some heels.”
I watched Bron open his mouth and knew there was some snarky comment just waiting to come out. I kicked his shin, not even bothering to be subtle about it. He winced, but wisely closed his mouth again.
“I think it’s worth a shot,” I said. “I assume it’s going to be at the estate.”
“It is,” he confirmed.
I made my voice light. “Well, then, Mr. Du Murier, will you accompany me to the Backman Estate Saturday night?”
“I would love to, Agent Melendez,” Bron replied with that easy smile.
Benita groaned and shook her head. “I’ll order surveillance for each entrance of the home so you’ll have backup if needed.”
I nodded. “Good idea.”
She inclined her head. “I do have one on occasion. Just be sure to take your radio so you can be in contact if you spot him.”
“Will do.”
She clapped her hands together. “That’s settled then. I’m getting another cup of coffee. Anybody want some?”
“I’m good,” I called as she walked away.
Bron leaned forward across my desk. “I need to get a suit or tux to wear,” he murmured. “Nothing we picked up yesterday will work.”
“Yeah, I don't think I have anything I can wear either.” I grabbed my jacket. As the two of us started toward the door, Benita came out of the break room. “Hey, we’re going to cut out to research the ball and get prepared.”
“You’re not going in uniform?” she teased.
“Well, I thought about wearing my badge around my neck so that I could run Uaine off in case he did show up, but Bron convinced me to go incognito.”