Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1)

by Morgan Kelley

  “Greyson, later will you stop by my cabin? I think we need to talk.” Her evergreen colored eyes stared into his molten silver grey ones. “I’m ready to tell you everything.”

  “You are? Why?” His heart pounded in his chest at the implication of her words.

  She was coming to him.

  Willingly.

  The sheriff thought about it as she placed her hand back onto his cheek. Ever so gently, she ran her thumb over his bottom lip.

  His whole body reacted to that simple action.

  She gave him the most precious thing that she could in her life. “Because I trust you.”

  Croft struggled to find the words. “Okay, honey. I’ll bring you home, and you can get all this off your chest.” It was hard to miss what was growing between them.

  “I’ll get the coffee. Meet me at the bench,” he said, needing to put space between them until he caught his breath.

  Emma watched him leave. It had been a long time since she trusted anyone in her life. Why this man? She hadn’t a clue, but Emma was finally willing to take the risk.

  He’d protect her.

  Or so she hoped.

  ~ Chapter Six ~

  Wednesday Afternoon

  Coffee with Emma under the willow tree had been a pretty spectacular thing. When he’d brought her the icy beverage, Croft sat beside her and casually dropped his arm over her shoulder. Yeah, it was possible he was pushing his luck, but to him he was simply trying to keep her at his side and offering support. If Croft believed it was going to feel awkward, it didn’t.

  It was all up to her now. He’d given her the signs he was interested, and Emma had to decide where to take them. Deep within him, he honestly believed Emma would try to squirm away from the contact, but she didn’t. The sheriff simply rested her head on his shoulder, and they drank their coffee in complete silence.

  Greyson Croft had been out of the dating game for a while, but he’d never remembered it being this easy.

  Ever!

  The woman beside seemed to click into his life, like she’d always belonged. The scent of her filled him, giving him hope that he wasn’t destined to continue the journey through life alone. The simple act of having a coffee, on a bench under a tree, was incredibly gratifying.

  When both had finished their drinks, Croft pulled her to her feet, tucked her back into the Jeep and headed to the station to get to work. Break time was over. Even seasoned law enforcement officers needed a moment to regroup when their brains were on overload. After their morning, saying they were carrying a burden was an understatement.

  Emma stared out the window as the man beside her drove them back to her office. The entire ride was shrouded in complete silence. After their coffee, she was feeling confused and worried. The conundrum was over how effortlessly they slid together. The other worry, brewing in her mind was how to tell him about a past that no one else was privy too. Well, almost no one. The only other person in town that had a clue was Deputy Reese.

  When he’d offered to buy her a coffee, she believed he’d want to talk then and there. When he sat beside her, his hip touching hers, she waited for him to bring it up. Then something astonishing happened. He placed his arm over her shoulders and let her lean against him.

  A little piece of her heart was lost in that moment. The tough FBI agent went with compassion and gave her what no one had in a long time--someone to rely on to find peace. Greyson Croft was an enigma, and she woefully admitted that she was becoming attached.

  Once they were back at the station, Emma had every intention to hide in her office for a little while to find her bearings. Not because of him, but because she needed to think about so many things.

  “You going to be okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  He pulled into her parking spot and stared at the two men pointing at her vehicle. “Who the hell are they?” he inquired, not real happy with how they were moving towards Emma’s side aggressively.

  “The really tan one is my boss, the mayor. The one with his lips stuck to the bronzed ass, well, that’s the man I call ‘the weasel’. He’s the mayor’s assistant.”

  “Wait inside until I get to the door,” he demanded, hopping out, and meeting the men before they could reach Emma.

  “Where the hell have you been?” raged Will Taylor, as the door was opened. “I’ve been out scouring the town looking for you, Sheriff! You weren’t at your home, your office, or the diner.”

  Croft stepped between them and stared down at the smaller man. “Back up,” he ordered.

  The man took two steps back in shock.

  “Who are you?” demanded Mayor Tate.

  Emma rolled her eyes at the FBI agent and finally made the introductions. “Mayor Ron Tate, this is Senior Special Agent Croft. Agent Croft, this is the mayor’s assistant, Will Taylor.”

  “This is what we mean, Sheriff,” stated Will Taylor. “Had you thought to bring the FBI to the mayor’s office, I wouldn’t have wasted my whole day playing search party. The mayor’s a very busy man.”

  Croft was about ready to boot the man as far away from Emma as possible. His temper was starting to brew at the asshole’s tone. When she laid her hand against his lower back, the tension dissipated enough that he regained control.

  The mayor continued, “Emma, dear, what Will is trying to say is, don’t you think it would have been appropriate to bring the FBI to my office so we could discuss this case?”

  Emma went to say something, but Will Taylor cut her off. “As usual, you’ve been incredibly difficult to work with, and you’re probably giving the FBI the wrong idea about our town.”

  Enough was enough.

  “Actually, until I just met you, I was thinking how great this town was, but now I’m thinking that some things aren’t exactly to my liking.”

  Will Taylor looked aghast.

  Emma covered a laugh with a cough.

  Croft continued, “I don’t need the sheriff to drag me to your office and waste my time. If I have anything to say to you, gentlemen, I’ll find you. Generally, we FBI agents are fairly self-sufficient. I don’t need to be micromanaged by the mayor’s secretary,” he stated, “and for the record, I don’t discuss a ‘case’ with anyone who isn’t in law enforcement. The sheriff and her staff are the only ones privy to my time at the moment.”

  Again, both men looked horrified, especially Will Taylor.

  Emma was having a hard time not laughing at the man. She was pretty sure the idea of being called a secretary, and not personal assistant, was making Will Taylor crazy.

  “But we need an update! The office has been tight lipped as to your whereabouts all morning. Even Lila was clueless,” added the weasel.

  Oh, the comment she could make regarding her administrative assistant. It took everything in her to not say a word.

  Unfortunately, Will Taylor continued, “The mayor is a very busy man.”

  Emma pointed at her pants. “Either of you want to guess what’s on my jeans?” she asked, crossing her arms. “No? Let me help you out. It’s blood, so my business supersedes anything that could have come across your desk today, Mayor. So, if you’ll beg our pardon, I need to get changed, make some coffee, and then contemplate if I’m in the mood to give you ten minutes of my time.”

  Will Taylor made a choking sound.

  Emma could only wish.

  “When can we talk?” Ron Tate asked, eyeing up the large FBI agent staring him down. The general dislike on the man’s face was evident. Maybe it was time to calm down and get his assistant to cut the sheriff a break. If she had blood on her jeans, it couldn’t have been a good morning.

  “Mayor, all I can do is offer you a couple minutes. That’s all the time we have right now. Take it or leave it.”

  Neither said a word, they only nodded with wide eyes and continued to follow Emma inside.

  Once in the building, Emma went directly to her office and closed the door. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor
. Her head was on her blood stained knees, and she didn’t move when Croft entered the office a few minutes later.

  “Come on, Sheriff, You need to get changed,” he said, offering her his hand, to pull her to her feet. “Where are your spare clothes, honey?”

  Emma pointed to the closet. When he returned with the short-sleeved, button down shirt and jeans, he handed them to her.

  “Thank you.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait for you,” he grinned mischievously, getting her to laugh.

  “Umm… Greyson, I can do this alone. In fact, I insist that I get changed without an audience.”

  “I tell you what. I’ll turn my back and start on the coffee, while you get dressed. I won’t turn around until you tell me it’s safe.”

  She looked at him for a moment, considering the words. “Fine, but no peeking or else. Understand?” She waited for his answer. When he didn’t reply, but instead turned to begin making them both coffee, she sighed.

  Croft tried to keep her distracted. “Your boss seems like an idiot, and his little shadow is a moron.”

  She snickered, knowing he only knew the half of it. “Yeah, trust me. I’m well aware. They make my job ten times harder than it has to be.”

  Emma stripped out of her shirt and replaced it with the clean one. Next came the boots and jeans. As she was unbuttoning them, she checked to see if Croft was keeping his word. He appeared to be looking out the window as he continued studying the landscape. She slid the jeans down her hips and stepped out of the stained garment. The fresh pair made her feel a little better. Getting as far away from the blood as possible was helpful.

  As he stared out the glass, he was enjoying her reflection way too much. Croft knew he shouldn’t be ogling her like he was, but he was only human.

  No one ever accused him of being a saint in his lifetime. It was a risk because if the woman discovered him admiring her, there’d be hell to pay.

  It was incredibly difficult to not react to her stripping in the office behind him. The sheriff had a really great body, and it was making his come alive. No longer was his long missing libido dormant.

  Emma opened her office door and exited to the outer cubicles. She walked to the large garbage can and dropped the clothes and the boots into the trash. She pulled her hair out of the braid and walked past Lila, her father and the weasel and into her office. Out of the closet, she pulled out a pair of slip on shoes.

  “You’re shorter without your boots on,” he stated, trying to get his body under control. She’d lost a good inch or so, and looked even frailer to him.

  Her eyebrows rose at his comment. “I don’t remember you turning around to see how I looked in them, Agent Croft.”

  Now, he turned and grinning wickedly. “Yeah, I know. Pesky reflection in the window caught my attention. If it matters, I intended to admire the landscaping.”

  She stared openmouthed at him. When he crossed to her, lifting her chin with his finger and handing her a coffee, she almost wanted to say something shrewish back. Then it occurred to her, she would have stared at him too and had that morning.

  Turnabout was fair play and on this one, and he’d gotten the upper hand.

  At the knock at her door, she moved to sit behind her desk as Croft unlocked it for her. “Come on in, gentlemen,” she said, sipping her coffee.

  The agent crossed the room to stand sentinel beside her desk. His shoulder braced on the wall as his body language left nothing to the imagination.

  “Thank you for making time for us, Sheriff,” stated Ron Tate, nervously watching the big man.

  Will Taylor looked appalled that his boss was being courteous to her.

  Emma simply nodded. “Mayor, the reason you haven’t been able to find me is we went looking for the next victim this morning after I received a call before dawn. When we found her, Agent Croft requested that the deputies remain silent until we’ve identified the body. I don’t need the citizens of Celestia standing in front of my office freaking out about a serial killer being among us.”

  “Well, isn’t he loose, Sheriff?” asked the Mayor. “Maybe we all should be in a panic about it.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. Yeah, chaos and mayhem was exactly what they needed at that moment.

  It was Croft who finally interjected, drawing the focus to himself. “Celestia has a serial killer. That’s not something we should be tossing out to the locals on a whim. It’ll end up making the sheriff’s and my job much more difficult.”

  Emma didn’t doubt the weasel would love to stir the pot even more.

  “There were two murders that followed the same pattern in Philadelphia. That’s why we were sent here so fast. I’m about to call in the rest of my team and by tomorrow, we’ll have enough back up to keep this all under control.”

  “So, you want us to say nothing? You think that’s advisable, Agent?” Ron Tate asked, not especially liking the idea of keeping the voters in the dark.

  Emma found it ironic that just yesterday the man was furious she called in the FBI. Part of her wanted to make a snotty comment, but she refrained.

  “Mayor Tate, your town simply doesn’t have the capability to handle this alone. We’ll need a mobile lab, technicians, and more agents. Then when all hell breaks loose with your constituents, we have the means and resources to keep the peace and control intact.” He stared at Ron Tate waiting for any argument.

  “I don’t like misleading the citizens of Celestia.”

  “What about the dead women? Don’t you think we owe them the justice of finding the animal that did this without it becoming a media nightmare?” added Emma.

  Croft had to agree. Chaos wasn’t a good idea in any situation, but toss in a serial killer, and it could get dangerous.

  She opened her desk drawer and pulled out the file with the recent picture of Megan Landry, sliding it across the desk. When the men were intently focused on it, she took the opportunity to slide the crime scene photo across too. Shock and horror registered on the mayor’s face. Immediately, he turned his head towards the wall to escape the gruesome photograph.

  Will Taylor stood fast.

  “Oh my God!” It was all he could say before he went sheet white. Immediately he stood, and moved as far from the photographs and their depiction of death as possible.

  “See why we owe these women?” added Emma. “They didn’t deserve this kind of death, and now, we need to get them justice. I need your cooperation, Mayor.”

  The man nodded his head, unable to think briefly.

  “Will you be okay?” she asked, noticing his pallor.

  Ron Tate nodded. “Have they identified the woman you found today?” he asked. He didn’t look back at Emma until she put the pictures away.

  “We found her ID in her purse, but we’ll wait until the coroner gives us the final details before we will say anything.” Emma was about to reveal the victim’s name as Taylor returned to his seat. “Mayor, whatever we discuss in here stays in here correct?”

  “Yes of course, Sheriff.” He watched both Emma and Croft stare at Will Taylor hesitantly. “He’s my trusted assistant. I can assure you that Will won’t reveal anything that’s confidential.”

  Emma stared up at the agent, waiting for his decision on what they should do. Technically, as of tomorrow, the FBI was running this show. Once he called in for the rest of his team, they went from advising to being in charge.

  Croft nodded. The truth would be out anyway if the woman had any family.

  “The second victim was Connie Hart. She works across the street at the beauty salon.” Emma might have missed the look that passed on the mayor’s face had it not been for the years of experience she had interrogating suspects.

  Standing from her chair, she moved towards the coffee pot, her eyes meeting Croft’s as they shared a look. Apparently, he’d caught the same thing--the mayor’s reaction was that of familiarity and possibly more.

  “Agent Croft?” she asked, holding the pot. “Coffee?”

  He hel
d out his mug. “Thank you, Emma.”

  Her eyes flickered to the mayor and his lackey. They’d had plenty of time to get the impact of the name. Something didn’t bode well, and Emma needed to assure they had no doubt she wasn’t screwing around. What they had now was a serious situation.

  Croft remained quiet, watching Emma setting the men up for her observation. Her interview techniques were very much like his own. She dropped the names, and then gave the two men time to dwell on it. This answered his earlier ponderings on what kind of detective she’d once been. It appeared that Emma had been damn good at it, and again it made him wonder why she’d walk away. The woman had spot on instincts.

  Moving back to her chair, Emma took a minute to observe the men in her room, since old habits die-hard. That’s what half of police work was all about. If you wanted to see the situation, you needed to observe, make the subject uncomfortable, and watch what popped.

  Croft took over. “Both victims were mutilated. This time it was far more vicious. The wounds looked like the killer ended up pushing the knife into her body past the hilt. Her breasts were practically obviated, throat was slashed, and face was beat beyond recognition.”

  Emma replayed the scene in her head and it made her gut roll sickly.

  “The victim’s stomach also had multiple stab wounds. The difference this time was she appeared to be raped prior to death. The bruising didn’t appear to be post mortem.”

  They both stared at the mayor who was turning a sickly shade of gray. Yeah, where there was smoke there was fire.

  Croft continued, “Her arms and legs had defensive wounds. Proving that she tried to stop the killer. It’s another reason to believe the rape was pre-mortem. It looked like she was trying to kick him away in order to protect herself. Her hair was cut off, much like Megan Landry’s had been, and recovered at the scene along with her pants and shoes.”

  Shifting his stare to Will Taylor, Croft continued, “The shirt wasn’t removed. It was destroyed with the stab wounds. It was a very violent act. He’s getting more volatile and that’s our big concern. It looks like he’s losing control, with the potential to snap at any moment. Then who knows what’s going to happen. Our greatest hope is he’ll begin to make mistakes.”