Mine to Keep (Mine 2)

“Actually, I found some recently.” Alex sauntered toward him.

The building manager was huddled in the corner, watching nervously.

Skye was still at Trace’s side.

“I went dumpster diving earlier. Not my favorite sport. Well, technically…” Alex looked over his shoulder. One of the uniformed cops had just come to join them. “It was Officer Coleman here who had the honor of that first retrieval.”

Skye stepped in front of Trace. “Just what are you talking about?”

“We found a shirt—a shirt very similar to the others that Weston owns—thrown in a dumpster a few blocks away from the Parker Jacobs crime scene.”

Sonofabitch.

“The shirt was covered in blood.” Alex’s eyes looked over Skye’s head, at Trace. “Arterial spray will do that, you know. Cover an attacker in his victim’s blood.”

“I didn’t kill Parker,” Trace snapped. “I told you that already.”

“Actually, you told us that you were at your office, working, but your assistant spun a different story. When I interviewed her, Sara Kramer told me that she came into your office, wanting to talk with you, but you weren’t there.”

Trace kept his expression blank.

“She didn’t like turning on her boss, but when I showed her the crime scene photos, when I let her know just what type of man she was dealing with, Sara was fast to tell the truth.” Alex’s gaze flickered down to Skye. “Some women can see the monsters in front of them. Others stay blind.”

Skye reached back and took Trace’s hand. “Trace told you he didn’t kill Parker.”

“And is that what he told you, Skye? Or, when you were alone, did he tell you the truth? Did he tell you a story about how he worried for you? How he just couldn’t keep on knowing that Parker was out there, that he might hurt you?”

Parker would’ve hurt her, but Trace hadn’t killed the bastard. He’d had other plans for Parker. Plans that involved a jail cell.

“Trace didn’t tell me any story about that. He just said that he didn’t do it. I believe him.”

“I don’t.” Flat. “He has no alibi, and I’m betting the bloody shirt we recovered—hell, I could tell it was one of those fancy-ass, too expensive shirts like Weston wears from the first glance.”

“Good for you and your fashion eye,” Trace muttered.

Alex glared at him. “I bet it’s yours. I bet you left your DNA on it. A strand of hair. A drop of your blood that you don’t even remember losing when you were slashing out with that knife. Something will tie back to you.” Alex’s glare gave way to a shark’s smile. “And then you’re done, man. You won’t be on the streets anymore.”

He was supposed to be afraid. Only this cop didn’t scare Trace, not after all he’d seen and done. “I get that you’re trying to do your job, and I even understand why.”

John Ford had crept closer. No doubt, the better to overhear. Trace figured that the building manager’s eyes couldn’t get much bigger before they exploded from his head.

The uniform, Coleman, also leaned toward them.

“I know what happened to your sister,” Trace said.

Alex’s gaze cut to Skye.

“She didn’t tell me. I have a damn security company. I can learn anyone’s secrets, just with the press of a few buttons.”

Fury blazed in Alex’s eyes.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t save her,” Trace said and he meant those words. “But I’m not the bastard who hurt your sister. And no matter how many times you try to put me away, it won’t bring her back.”

Alex stumbled back a step.

“Here’s something else for you to think about,” Trace added, voice low and rumbling. “If I’d wanted Parker Jacobs dead, I could’ve just made the man disappear. No evidence would have ever been left behind. He would’ve vanished in an instant.” Trace snapped his fingers. “Just like that because that is the kind of power I have. A sloppy kill wouldn’t be my style.”

“But you did get sloppy,” Alex snapped. “You screwed up!”

“No.” Skye’s certain voice captured everyone’s immediate attention. “Someone is trying to set him up, don’t you see that?”

A furrow appeared between Alex’s brows. “Why the hell would anyone want to do that? We’re talking about murder here. Two murders.”

“Because he has enemies,” Skye said. “And some men will go to anything in order to get their vengeance.”

The other uniform appeared then. It looked as if the guy had collected every single knife that Trace owned. Seriously? Did Alex truly think he could be such an amateur that he’d kill with his own knives? And Trace had already taken the liberty of ditching the knives he’d taken from Ben.

“I don’t believe you would’ve sent a flunky after Parker,” Alex said, giving a sharp nod to the uniforms. The two men—and the techs—headed for the elevator. John rushed forward to use his keycard for them. “I think, for a job this personal, you wouldn’t mind getting your hands dirty.” Alex’s eyes were narrow slits of suspicion. “That dirt is gonna come back and bite you in the ass. Our lab techs are going to scan all the evidence we’ve got…”

He followed the others.

Skye laced her fingers with Trace. “You’ve got nothing,” she called out.

She sounded so confident.

The elevator doors closed and their uninvited guests were gone.

“Nothing,” Skye whispered as she pushed her hand into the loose pocket on her top. When her fingers came back out, she was holding the dog tags.

And one of those tags would have definitely tested positive for Parker’s blood.

“I took a minute to pick these up as soon as I saw who our guests were.”

Protecting him. Covering for him.

He took the tags from her. It was time he made them vanish. Then Trace cupped her chin in his hands and leaned toward her. “I’ll make this end.”

“No.” Skye was adamant. “We will. We’re in this together, Trace.”

Together.

Because death wasn’t about to part them.

***

When she heard the knock, Sara Kramer hurriedly opened her apartment door. Her lover waited in the hallway, and Sara threw her body against his. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Because she’d been afraid, for hours.

Trace would know that she’d talked to the cops. What would he do?

Fire her, no doubt. But what else? He’d helped her before, when she’d been desperate, and turning on him now seemed so wrong.

“Shh. Easy, my love.” His hands were so gentle on her. He was always gentle. “I told you that I’d take care of you.”

She pressed her face against the front of his shirt. “I don’t think I should’ve talked. I-I don’t know Trace did this and—”

His hand slid between them. He tipped back her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “You did the right thing.”

Her heart finally stopped racing. Sara pulled back from him. “Come inside.” She wanted him to stay with her. No, after everything that had happened, she needed him.

He shut the door. Locked it.

Sara dropped her robe. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. The robe pooled at her feet. She gave him a smile. “Why don’t you try to make me forget why I was so afraid?”

He’d been the one to convince her that she couldn’t protect her boss. Trace had lied. A man was dead.