“It didn’t cross my mind,” admitted Curtis. “I guess you have to be a seasoned cop to think like that.”
They both stared at Emma, but her face gave nothing away. She saw it coming and honestly, she would have laughed at the attempt, if they weren’t working on something so serious.
They continued working for an hour more and Emma yawned. Croft looked at his watch. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”
“I think you’re right. Where are you guys staying while you’re here? We don’t have any hotels, and the only the bed and breakfast is at the end of the street.”
“We rented a cabin up on the ridge from some guy named Watts,” answered Croft, while Briggs packed up his things. “He told us it’s beautiful up there.”
“He’d be absolutely correct,” answered Emma. “My cabin is up there too. It looks like we’re going to be to be neighbors.”
The idea that she wasn’t far away, increasingly brightened Croft’s mood. Now, he’d have even more opportunities to get to know her better.
“You think you could show us the way? You wouldn’t want us lost and have us wandering around all night,” he smiled. “Now, would you?”
Emma laughed, rolling her eyes at his attempt. Somehow, the idea of Greyson Croft wandering around in the hills entertained her. She had a feeling he’d end up on her front porch within a matter of minutes.
“No, gentlemen, I can’t have that happening. We certainly don’t have the manpower to send out a search party,” Emma replied, getting up from the table and grabbing her two coffee cups. Walking out the door, she headed to the break room to wash the cups before returning to her office. Once inside, she grabbed her keys.
Right about now, she’d be unloading her gun for the ride home. Her hand sat on it a moment, and then she decided against it, only because it risked piquing the interest of the men waiting for her. It would bring up even more questions.
“Ready, Emma?” It was Greyson, and he intended to escort her out the door and past all the men in the room. Was it a caveman stunt? Yeah, but he was perfectly fine with that.
“Sure thing. Let’s go.” On her way out, she waved goodnight to the two deputies on duty, heading out the door. When arriving at her Jeep, Emma was surprised to see Greyson opening the passenger door. “Can I help you, Agent Croft?”
“I thought I’d keep you company and ride up with you. Any problems with that?” he asked, keeping his fingers crossed.
“No, I don’t have a problem with giving an FBI agent a ride.”
Croft’s gut tightened at her words, and he wondered if she realized the visual it planted in his head. Yeah, he’d love to use ‘her’, and ‘ride’, in the same sentence, but it wouldn’t be nearly as innocent as what they were doing now.
Emma buckled her seatbelt and started her vehicle. She watched in the rear view mirror as Briggs pulled out behind her.
“So, Emma, can I ask you a question?”
“I guess so, what?” she nervously replied.
“Where did you work before you came to Celestia?”
“What does it matter?” she added too quickly. “I don’t see the importance.”
This was her one chance before he got the file tomorrow. He’d rather that she be forthright and just share the information with him. “I’m going to be completely honest with you, Emma. I don’t for one second believe that you’ve been sheriff long. You’re tarnished like many cops I know. You’ve seen things and know things that a sheriff in a small town wouldn’t have knowledge about. I already ordered a dossier from my boss. I can read it, or you can tell me.” Croft waited patiently for her reply.
Emma considered it and wasn’t surprised. She’d worked with the Feds before, and they liked to be aware of who they were collaborating up with. It didn’t offend her in the least.
“Come on, honey. If you give me anything, I promise to not look in that file. I’ll let you tell me all there is to know.” He leaned back into the seat and turned his head to observe her.
“Honey?” she answered, surprised at that word, but not the rest.
He laughed, noticing she relaxed marginally.
Emma sighed, knowing he’d find out eventually, So much for privacy. “I was a Philadelphia police officer for five years, and then I was on vice for two years.”
“Homicide?” he questioned.
“Yep, I was a detective for the last five years of my time in Philly. I handed in my resignation and moved to Celestia when a friend called, informing me that there was an opening for sheriff in the town. I was offered the job about a year ago.” She looked at him in the darkened interior of the Jeep. “Satisfied?”
“Well that would explain how you knew to work a crime scene and how you got to be sheriff, but now I have to wonder why you left Philly to come here.”
“I needed a change, okay?” She tried to not snap the words at him, but her temper was raw and brittle.
Croft watched her tense visibly. It was obvious, even in the dark confines of the vehicle. “Hey, it’s okay, Emma. Occasionally, we all need a change in life. I understand.” But he wasn’t buying the whole story. Croft knew he wasn’t going to get anything else out of her tonight, so he put it aside. His big concern was if Emma was dating Deputy Reese. “It is pretty up here. Look at the view and all those stars over the town.”
“Yeah, I stop and take in the view every morning before I go into work. It’s cathartic.” Emma relaxed again when they were back on a safe topic.
Croft scanned the landscape to see a cabin in the distance. “Who lives there?” he asked, taking in the quaint little building. There were pots of flowers on the porch and it looked very welcoming and homey.
“I do,” said Emma. “That’s my place, and you two are right around the corner, first cabin on the right.”
Emma stopped her Jeep, starting to get out, but paused when she realized Croft hadn’t moved. “Something wrong, Agent Croft?” she asked, staring into his eyes. Even in the dark confines of the vehicle, they looked molten like mercury. A shiver went through her body as his gaze bore right through her.
Emma was feeling like prey.
“Yeah, I have to do this before I leave,” he admitted, leaning in so quickly that she didn’t expect it and couldn’t stop his advance.
Before she knew it, his lips were against hers, coaxing her into a kiss.
Everything in Greyson went rock hard as his mouth met hers. The kiss was pretty much everything he thought it would be. At first, she was shocked and didn’t kiss him back, but slowly she came around and offered as much as she took.
Emma couldn’t believe she was doing this on day one and in the front seat of her Jeep. It was as if she was seventeen again and completely out of control. Her brain was on hiatus and her hormones were running rampant.
As she slowly began to break the kiss, Croft wasn’t ready yet, and his hand went to the nape of her neck, trapping her to him just a little longer. Again, he noticed she slipped back into the moment, opening up for him. If he kept this up, he wouldn’t be able to leave her, so he made the valiant effort to finally break away.
She stared at him, unsure what to even say, if she had the ability to even talk after that kiss.
Reaching for the door handle, he jumped out. Before closing it behind him, he grinned at her wickedly. “Goodnight, Emma. I’ll see you in the morning, honey.”
With that he escaped, leaving her staring in his wake.
Holy bloody hell!
What was that?
Emma moved from the vehicle and gawked, caught completely off guard.
“Sweet dreams, Emma,” he said over his shoulder, looking smug. He certainly knew what he’d be dreaming about.
“Goodnight, Greyson.” It was all she could come up with before she turned, escaping to her house. She couldn’t feign indignation or attempt to look horrified, since she’d been an active participant in that lip lock--a very willing one at that.
Croft was still grinning as he got int
o the car. Yeah, forty-one his ass, he still had it. More importantly, she brought it out in him. Whatever chemistry was between them was going to be explosive, he could already tell.
Briggs said nothing after observing his partner’s antics. He was barely able to keep from laughing. Curtis simply shook his head before driving them to their cabin.
Emma stared out the window, shocked that she had just made out with a practical stranger so willingly. What was she thinking? She should have stopped him, pushing him away, but for some reason she just couldn’t do it. Greyson Croft was an enigma to her, and Emma was woman enough to admit she wanted him.
Now, she was going to be wide-awake for quite a while, pondering what to do about the man.
Emma was still dwelling on it as she stood under the spray of water. The previous evening’s shower with punishing heat wasn’t needed tonight. She was more than distracted by the agent with the silvery eyes and the truly excellent oral skills.
Climbing into bed, Emma was wishing for two things, another kiss with Greyson Croft and a dreamless night.
* * *
It was almost five in the morning, when the phone on her nightstand rang, pulling her from a very peaceful sleep.
“Sheriff Starling,” she mumbled, half asleep. It had been a long time since a call woke her in the middle of the night, and she didn’t miss it in the least.
The voice was almost muffled and inaudible. It caused Emma to sit up really fast.
“What?” she demanded again.
There was sick laughter. “I’ve taken my next victim, Sheriff. You’re too late.” Then there was a click.
Emma stared down at her cell phone, trying to figure out why that number looked so familiar to her, and then it hit her.
“Oh shit!”
Jumping out of bed, she needed to get to the FBI agents one cabin over as fast as possible.
They’d been right. The killer did have Megan Landry’s cell phone, and now another woman was going to die.
~ Chapter Five ~
Wednesday Pre-dawn
Emma slammed on the brakes and brought the Jeep to a sliding stop in front of the cabin. Gravel went flying and dust was filling the air as she raced towards the cabin. Honestly, she was feeling bad about waking up Croft and Briggs, but it had to be done. She was at the door and banging on it with her open palm, when it was flung open. Standing there was a half-dressed Agent Croft. His jeans were on, but barely zipped. His hair was messed up, and he had his gun in his hand pointing at the ground. She could see Briggs in the background in the same position. Only, it was Croft who had her full attention.
“Christ almighty, Emma! What’s wrong?” he asked with concern in his voice. “Are you insane driving over here like a mad woman and banging on the door at five in the morning?”
“The killer just called my cell phone a few minutes ago, and I thought you’d want to know!”
That had his attention. “Excuse me? What did he say to you?” he demanded, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans before pulling her into the cabin.
“That he’s taken his next victim, and it’s too late,” she replied, slightly out of breath.
He closed the door behind her and stared at her. Rational Croft began to resurface, now that his adrenaline was slowing down. “How did you know that it was the killer and not someone yanking your chain? People sometimes call in pranks when they think it’s funny,” he asked, trying to find a reasonable answer. The idea that the killer was calling her worried him.
Emma pulled out her phone and flipped to the listing of calls and showed him. “Greyson, listen to me. I’m not some scared girl that makes up things in her mind while afraid. It was the killer! I have caller ID and when I looked down at the screen, it was Megan Landry’s number. The bastard called me from the woman’s cell phone.”
At that moment, it occurred to Croft that his jeans were semi-open, revealing a little too much below the belt for this kind of conversation. He nodded and buttoned up. He grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it over his head.
Emma watched him appreciatively and couldn’t help but notice that his body was muscled and well-toned like an athlete. If he was worried about being ‘old’, she could offer him assurance. The man had nothing to worry about. Emma also couldn’t help but notice that Croft looked just as good in a T-shirt and jeans as he did in a suit and tie.
Maybe even better…
Emma forced herself to focus on anything else at that moment. Already, the room was getting warm.
Croft didn’t miss her watching him, and in a way it pleased him on some masculine, barbarian level. Emma was having an equally difficult time keeping her thoughts on the murder. That had to mean something, right?
Briggs finally spoke, “I’ll go get dressed. We should head in,” he suggested.
Emma turned and started to the door. “Me too. I’ll go back to my place and get ready. I’ll see you in a little while at the station.” She stepped out into the morning and headed for her Jeep.
“Wait for me!” demanded Croft. “I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t need to come with me, Greyson. I just need to get dressed and grab my gun.”
But it was too late. He was pulling on his shoes and running behind her to the vehicle with his gun harness in his hand. There was no way he was letting her out of his sight if the killer was calling her.
Obviously, Croft wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She pulled around and headed back to her cabin.
“Give me your phone,” he demanded.
Emma complied, watching him from the corner of her eye. At first, she thought he was going to check the number that called in, but he wasn’t.
“I’m putting my personal number and my work number into your phone. If he calls you again, I want you to stay INSIDE your house and call me.”
“Greyson,” she started, but was cut off.
“No, Emma. He could try to lure you out with a call. Promise me that next time you let me come to you.”
She conceded. “Okay, I’ll call next time and let you come to me.”
He relaxed marginally. “Where’s your damn gun?”
“At home.”
He stared at her openmouthed. “Are you serious, Emma? You were a cop for ten years and you run out of your house without your sidearm?”
She started laughing.
Croft began cursing under his breath.
Emma only laughed harder at his response.
When they pulled into her driveway, Croft got out and scanned the area around her home. Before she could exit, he was practically on top of her.
“Um... I can’t walk if you’re this close to me, Greyson,” she said, laughing more. “I’m safe. I promise.” Emma touched his cheek reassuringly.
Everything in him tightened, and then relaxed at her easy reassurance. “Okay, Em.”
As she opened the door, the first smell that hit him was fresh brewed coffee.
“My God, woman! Is that fresh coffee?” He gave her his most charming grin as he planned to pillage her black gold. “I’ll be forever in your debt if you share.”
Emma shook her head at the look on his face. “Yes, it’s coffee. There’s an automatic timer on the coffee pot. I don’t know how I lived without one,” she answered. “Help yourself while I’m getting dressed.”
Croft wandered her kitchen, finding the cabinet that had her mugs. He pulled down two and poured them both coffees. In the refrigerator, he found four different kinds of creamer. “Emma, honey!” he called.
“Yeah?” she yelled back.
“What creamer do you want in your coffee?”
“Plain,” she answered.
Croft reached in and was suddenly struck with how normal that conversation was, and how it was the first one like it that he’d ever had with a woman. Never before had he been in someone’s kitchen at five in the morning, making them coffee. The warmth rolled through him at how it gave him great pleasure.
When Emma came down the hall a few
minutes later, he was waiting for her on one of her couches. Her hair was pulled back, and she’d decided on a pair of low riding jeans that hugged her hips and a formfitting black T-shirt. In one hand was her backup piece and in the other hung the shoulder harness containing her gun.
“Here’s your coffee,” he said, handing her the mug as she placed her guns on the coffee table.
Emma sat beside him for a second with her coffee, taking a tentative sip. He’d made it exactly how she liked it.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, enjoying the relaxed familiarity between them. You’d never know that they’d just met the day before. Emma made it easy to be around her.
Placing the cup down, she slipped into the shoulder harness, and then she put her hiking boot on edge of the table and strapped on her ankle holster. She glanced up to see Croft staring at her.
“You make me very nervous when you look at me that way.” Once she said it, she immediately regretted it.
He smiled at her, mischievously. “Do I?”
“Yeah, and you don’t have to enjoy it so much!” she demanded.
Greyson winked at her. “How about more coffee?” he suggested, handing her his cup. “I made the last round.”
Emma stared at him mouth open, and then swallowed her comment. She moved towards her kitchen and loaded the dirty mugs into her dishwasher. “We don’t have time. I’ll make you one to go.”
“That’s too bad because I was enjoying the morning with you. I could get used to it.” Staring around her room, there wasn’t a single sign of another man’s presence. That made him infinitely happy.
She stared at him, trying to figure out what the hell that was supposed to mean.
He started laughing again at the horrified look on her face. “Breathe, Emma,” he said, grinning. Yeah, he was pretty sure she was as tied up in knots as he was. The kiss last night made sleeping very difficult. At first he tossed and turned, and then the remainder of the night was plagued with erotic and sinful dreams.
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 10