He saw her fear returning. “Let me get this off you, honey,” he whispered, so only they would be privy to the conversation. Croft grabbed the bottle lying on the ground, twisted off the top, and dumped the contents on her hands.
Emma didn’t speak while he cleaned the blood from her skin. She simply couldn’t without falling apart and breaking down.
He tenderly removed the offensive staining, noticing the slight tremor that ran through her body. It was indicative that she was very close to shock.
One of the deputies grabbed a towel from the back of her Jeep and tossed it to the agent helping his boss.
“It’s going to be okay, Emma,” he reassured, finishing his task then doing the same to his own hands. Slowly, he dried her off and then repeated it with himself.
Emma stared down at clean hands and relaxed marginally. Glancing up at the man, she tried to find the words to thank him, but they wouldn’t string together into a complete sentence.
“It’s okay, Emma,” he stated, the words barely audible.
She knew the deputies needed direction, and she forced her brain to comply and do the job. “Start looking around for anything out of place. He was here, and we need to see if he left anything behind.”
The men began a thorough search of the grass, hoping to find anything.
When they were out of earshot, Croft finally spoke, “You going to be okay?” he inquired, already suspecting he knew the answer to that.
“Yeah, it takes a little more than this to push me over the edge.” That was a lie. It nearly shoved her off into a full blown panic attack. If he hadn’t taken her hand, holding her to reality, she’d probably be a sobbing mess.
Croft didn’t believe her, but he let it go--for now.
“If you want to talk about it, Emma, I’m here,” he offered, handing her a lifeline to get it off her chest.
She nodded, staring into his eyes. They were filled with concern and nothing but complete gentleness. “Thank you, Agent Croft.”
He reached over, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Anytime, Sheriff,” he replied, as she slowly moved away from him and headed off to help with the search.
In that moment, he definitively knew one thing. The woman was hiding something, and he was more determined than ever to find the truth behind her crumbling façade.
After twenty more minutes of searching, nothing was found in ‘The Crossing’, but the wet bloody stains of the animal’s blood. The killer had been there and escaped undetected, and it pissed them all off. He was right under their noses and taunting them.
What irritated Croft more was that the nutjob was taunting the sheriff as if challenging her to catch him. That made him nervous as hell.
As the woman returned to his side, he was sealing up the cooler in a large plastic bag. He wanted to assure that any evidence on the outside or inside was preserved until his lab team could run the tests.
Emma finally had the courage to face the man. Her nerves were subsiding and the fear was abating. She was back in control for the most part.
He could feel her approaching him, and he spoke before she could offer any justification of the earlier incident. “We need to ship this off and see if there are any fingerprints on the bottles other than yours. He might have touched something in there.”
“Good idea,” she answered.
Where her voice was back to being calm, her face was a completely different story. Croft could detect that Emma was still rattled. Again he asked her, “Are you going to be okay?” Since the team was packing up and heading out, he didn’t find the need to keep his voice low.
Emma pulled out the keys for her Jeep, pondering his question. Everything in her said lie, but she’d remembered how gentle he’d been, and she trusted him. Why she thought she could, she had no clue, but everything in her believed he was a good person and trustworthy.
“I think so. I’m just a little shaken up.”
Saying he was surprised was an understatement. He really expected her to feign indifference, but that trust caught him completely off guard. When she first noticed the blood on her hands, the look on her face scared the shit out of him. That look alone was burned into his memories. Croft was confused as hell as his emotions were driving him instead of logic and common sense.
This was all new to him.
“I’m going to head back to the office,” she answered, hopping into her vehicle, assuming he’d do the same.
Croft signaled to Briggs to follow the deputies back, and then motioned that he was riding shotgun with the sheriff.
Emma turned the keys in the ignition, looking astonished when the large man opened the passenger side door. He got in and pushed the air conditioning to high. There were so many things that she could have said to protest him riding with her, but none immediately came to mind.
Sitting beside her, Croft said nothing at first. Part of him was waiting for her to put up some sort of fight. When she simply accepted it and pulled out of ‘The Crossing’, he relaxed. He was a sensible man, and none of what he was feeling for the woman beside him proved it. He was in over his head and sinking fast.
When he finally broke the silence, Emma figured the first thing he planned to bring up was the incident involving the cooler and her reaction.
“You wouldn’t think these Pennsylvania falls would get so damn hot. I’m glad I packed some cooler clothes.” Greyson motioned toward her tank top. “I think I need to lose the suit while I’m here.” He smiled at her warmly.
It wasn’t what she expected. It was obvious that the man was good at his job and full of tricks.
Emma figured pleasant conversation was expected, even if she wasn’t in the mood. “Every once in a while, we get a hot summer and an even hotter fall. I’ll be glad when it’s over,” replied Emma, navigating her way back to the station. Weather seemed to be a very safe topic, since she didn’t know what else to say to him. Somehow, ‘you’re like the weather--incredibly hot’, didn’t seem appropriate at the moment.
“I agree. It makes running a pain in the ass.” Croft planned to lull her with easy conversation, building her trust before he got to the heart of the matter. He knew he was patient and could bide his time.
Well, that explained his extremely toned physique. Emma swore the air conditioning in her Jeep wasn’t working. “I don’t run. I used to, but now I do yoga.”
Croft was glad to hear that. She’d be easier to catch and very flexible. Then he admonished himself for even thinking it. Since meeting her, she’d had him off balance most of the time. “I've never done yoga before,” he replied. “I’m not exactly built for it.”
Emma glanced over grinning and then focused back on the drive. Anything she said, after that comment could be construed as sexual. Since that was where her mind was heading, it was best to keep her mouth shut. “Mmmmm hmmmm.”
The neutral answer almost made him laugh. Maybe it was best to follow the sheriff’s example and not say anything else before he embarrassed them both.
The rest of the ride to town was done in silence. Emma’s mood was heading south. The blood in the cooler was back on her mind, and her nerves were starting to get the best of her again. Somehow, she was sure he’d noticed it. Agent Croft would pick up on every little detail, she was sure. Right now, he was most likely profiling her and marking it down in his mental notebook.
Emma could see the words in her own mind.
‘Interrogate the crazy sheriff’.
It would only be time before he said something.
Special Agent Croft knew it was now or never. The discussion he wanted to have was going to be done in private and later. “So, Emma, how long have you been sheriff of Celestia?” asked Croft.
“I guess we’re on a first name basis now, Agent Croft, but I don’t think that’s really fair since I don’t know yours. I think we should probably have that introduction first before I dive into my private life, don’t you think?” she asked.
Croft noticed her hands tighten on
the steering wheel. “I guess you may have a point. I didn’t share my first name, now did I?” he stated, grinning at her. The fact she wanted to know more about him was appealing.
“I’m at a bit of a disadvantage. If you’re going to use my name, I think I should be allowed the same courtesy.” She paused to choose her words carefully “Unless you only have one name, Agent Croft.”
He lifted a brow at the iciness in her reply.
Silence sat over the vehicle again. Emma began to feel bad at the way that all came out. She blamed it all on the last two days. Her manners seemed to have run for the hills when the killer came to Celestia. Of course she wanted to know what his name was and be on a first name basis with him. The only thing that scared the hell out of her was that he’d want to know more. Emma didn’t want to have to have to explain what was frightening her. She was on edge in more ways than one.
If her anger gave him any pause, he never showed it. “My name’s Greyson,” replied Croft.
Emma glanced over at him. “I’m sorry that I snapped at you. I shouldn’t be pointing my frustration and anger at anyone but the killer.” She refocused on the road. “I think your name suits you.”
He was touched by her apology. “Why’s that, Sheriff?
Emma shrugged. “With the color of your eyes, it seems to fit,” she answered.
Croft grinned. “It took me many years to even like my name,” he offered. “Try growing up with this name as a kid. My parents did a number on my ego.”
Emma laughed. “Somehow, I doubt your ego suffered, Agent Croft.” How could it? She was pretty sure that as a young man the women flocked to him because of the name and everything else. Greyson Croft was a very sexy, well-built man.
He didn’t like her calling him by his formal title. Croft wanted her to use his name from here on out. Hearing it on her lips would be amazing. “How about you call me Grey? Only people I work with call me by my last name.”
She considered it. “Is that nickname reserved for all the women you come across?” she teased, shocked by her own words.
“No, only the special ones.” In fact, he could count on his one hand the people who dared shorten his name. Generally, he corrected them back to the full name. Greyson sounded very FBI, and he was, after all, the job.
Emma stared over at him speechless.
He laughed. “Try it. I swear I don’t bite.”
She finally got past his words and the implications, and pulled together a complete sentence. “I don’t mind if you call me Emma, but not in front of the deputies. When I arrived here, it was hard to establish leadership, and I would prefer to not lose the ground I’ve gained. That’s if you don’t mind.” She pulled onto the main road and headed into town
He’d give her that little request if she used his name freely when they were alone. “Okay, Emma. That sounds like a deal to me, if you do the same thing.”
She smiled at him. “Okay, Greyson.”
He started laughing at how she simply refused to call him Grey. He’d bide his time, and get his way before long. “It was the special comment, wasn’t it?” he asked.
Now, she was grinning and amused by the man and his attempt to add levity to the situation. “Uh yeah, it was.”
“Damn it! I shouldn’t have led in with that. I’m really bad with the opposite sex,” he offered, truthfully. “I’m out of practice.” Once it was out, he wanted to take it back. It was a total rookie mistake when it came to the dating game.
Now, she started laughing. “Yeah, I don’t buy that either. Nice try though,” she stated. The man was hot. Women weren’t ever going to be a problem for him.
Croft’s body tightened at the sound of her laughter. It slid over his body like silk, firing up all his nerve endings. Yeah, he needed her saying his name all the time. His short-term goals were to gain her trust, get her to call him Grey, and kiss her. He knew it was a horrible idea, but something about the woman made him want to do incredibly stupid, compulsively wild things.
“So, why do Deputies Reese and Marshall call you Emma and not by your job title?” He watched her head turn fast, since she was definitely not expecting that question from him. Catching her off guard was part of his plan at keeping her off balance.
Emma sighed. “Deputy Marshall shouldn’t but he does. I think he has a crush on me, and I haven’t found a way to get him to stop.”
“A crush, huh?” Yeah, that didn’t make him happy at all. Now, he knew who the rivals for her attention were. “So, you’re not interested in him?”
She looked at him as if he had three eyes. “He’s more than ten years younger than me. I’m not robbing the cradle.”
He let out a breath he was holding, and then began wondering how she felt about older men. In his head, Croft began doing the mental math to calculate her age. He suspected that he was at least ten years older than her. “Okay, what about Deputy Reese then?”
Emma wasn’t comfortable discussing her relationship with Reese. If she told him that, then everything else would be free game too. “I’m sorry, but that’s personal and therefore none of your business. I’d prefer you help me solve the murder, and leave my personal life out of the conversation,” she snapped. Emma couldn’t tell him about her life before Celestia. It was her secret pain and shame and keeping it buried meant staying one step ahead of it all.
Yikes, that was obviously a sore point. Croft wasn’t happy she wouldn’t share, but he’d figure it out eventually.
There was nothing he liked more than a mystery.
“That’s fine Emma, there’s no need to get all prickly and angry,” came his reply, as he stretched out in the front seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Part of him hoped it was because she didn’t know him, but the other part was screaming that it was because Emma belonged to someone else.
Again, rational Croft couldn’t figure out why that bothered him so much, it just did. He hoped Sheriff Starling realized that this was far from over.
This game of cat and mouse was only beginning.
~ Chapter Four ~
Tuesday Afternoon
Back at the station, Emma sat in her office staring out the window. A few times, she’d tried to offer her assistance to the men setting up the conference room, but Agent Croft had been adamant that they’d discuss the situation with her later.
The situation?
That word bothered her and put her on edge. What exactly did he mean by that? They only had one dead woman and the promise of more to come. At that point, she really believed there was something that neither of the FBI agents was telling her. Her suspicion and paranoia was running rampant.
Then behind her nerves was the guilt. Emma was still feeling bad for snapping at Agent Croft. It looked like she’d be apologizing again to the man. In her mind, she began rationalizing how it was his fault. He was too ridiculously handsome for his own good. It looked like she’d be expressing regret habitually. Being around him tripped her up.
What the hell was her problem? It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to working with men. She’d been a cop, and most of her co-workers were male, and as sheriff, all her deputies were too. Why was Agent Greyson Croft riling her up so much?
Oh yeah, Emma remembered.
She wanted to climb all over him naked. That would definitely be what was making her edgy.
Her libido was covered in cobwebs.
Thinking back, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a fun sweaty romp with someone of the opposite sex. Holy shit! It was as if she’d traded her sex drive in for a habit and became a nun.
It was a great time for it to resurface now.
Emma knew she needed to stop thinking about sex, Greyson Croft and anything else related to the man being naked. It was distracting the hell out of her and making her twitchy.
Not that a distraction wasn’t a good thing. Since getting back to the station, she’d forgotten about being scared shitless of the killer and the blood she saw on her hands. Okay, so maybe she did o
we the agent another apology. Who knew the sexy, older man would end up being the solution to one set of problems and a completely different predicament to her personal life?
Emma glanced over at the clock, realizing that she was starving. The two agents had to be hungry too. They’d been going nonstop, longer than she had. Picking up the phone, she decided to offer up a white flag to the man she’d snapped at earlier. Emma called the grocery store down the block, ordering copious amounts of food to feed the small army of hungry men outside her door. When she hung up the phone, she poured herself a cup of coffee and waited for Agent Croft to summon her. Until then, she’d work on her apology.
Greyson Croft moved around the conference room silently. He was still thinking about the conversation that he had with the sheriff on the way back to the office. It was still bothering him that the woman had gotten defensive over him asking questions regarding her and Deputy Reese.
No, bothered wasn’t the right word.
Jealous as hell was far more apropos. Then there was the little fact that whole thing was making him feel like a total asshole too. He didn’t own the woman, so what did it matter who she was sleeping with in her free time. After all, she was an adult. He was sleeping with women too.
Yeah, that was a total lie. He’d had two dates in the last year with the same woman, one he worked with, and they were a dead end. He’d gone on them trying to prove that he was still a commodity in the market, and ended up bored out of his mind. After that, he’d simply given up.
Lately, he’d become disillusioned with the dating world. For one, he was an old man by many women’s standards. Forty- one was simply a number to him, but to a prospective mate, it wasn’t attractive. By the time you developed the relationship, moved into that comfortable ease of the mating and headed into commitment, it could mean a couple of years. It only moved him close to being considered over the hill.
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 8