“What?” It would have hurt less if she reached into his chest to tear out his heart. Here it came. Emma was telling him good-bye. He’d screwed up, crossed the line, and was losing everything.
She couldn’t look at him or she’d weep.
It couldn’t happen this way, and he wouldn’t accept it without a fight. “I don’t want to see Gail when I get back to Philadelphia. I want to continue seeing you.”
Emma wanted to admit how much she loved him. “You better get going, Agent Croft, it’s almost five.”
He glanced at his watch. “Damn it! Emma! This conversation isn’t over. I’ll be back in five minutes, and then we need to finish it. Understand?”
She simply stared out the window. When her door closed, she stood and gathered her things. Watching from her office through the glass, Emma could see him storming across the parking lot towards the portable lab. It was now or never, and she knew she could safely escape without a confrontation. As she closed up the office, Briggs appeared in her doorway.
“Goodnight, Curtis.”
“Is something wrong, Emma?” he asked, looking at how hollow her eyes had become.
“I don’t know, but I need to go home and take a shower and think about some things.” Then she remembered the earlier call. “Curtis, tomorrow I need to head to Philadelphia. Can you keep Greyson on his best behavior?”
He knew she was asking him to lie to his partner, giving her time and space to run. “Why are you heading to Philly?”
She explained the information from Mrs. Landry. “I’m going and coming back. It won’t take too long.”
“You’re heading into the party mecca of Pennsylvania on a Saturday. It’s going to take the whole day with traffic in and out of the city.”
“I’ll leave early.” Emma thought about it, calculating the hours there and back.
“Want company?”
Emma needed to do this alone. “No, but thanks for the offer.”
“Emma,” he began.
“Really, I can manage to find a store, pick up Megan Landry’s journal, and then make it home in one piece.”
Briggs knew why she was going alone, and he didn’t like it at all. “Do you want me to drive you home and wait until Croft gets there?” He watched her stiffen at his words. Apparently, his partner was bunking in their cabin tonight.
“No, I just need a shower and to be alone.”
“Okay, Emma,” he said, letting her close the door and escape the building. He knew what he had to do. Curtis needed to find his friend and tell him what the hell was going on before someone got hurt.
Croft waited for the information from Gail. When he arrived, she wasn’t in her area and he had to wait. Now, she was back, and he was forced to replay Emma’s comments over and over in his mind, trying to see if there was anything there for the blonde woman.
Nothing.
It wasn’t that Gail wasn’t a funny, attractive woman, but she wasn’t Emma. His heart wanted what it wanted, and who was he to question it?
“Here you go,” she said sweetly, handing him the results. She smiled up at him and noticed he looked distracted. “Something wrong, Agent Croft?”
“No, just need these results before the sheriff and I can cut out for the night.”
Gail could feel the flush and jealousy hit again. “There was a match on the cigarette butt and the zygote.”
Greyson glanced up startled. Emma had figured it out. Somehow, that made him feel worse for not believing in her from the start. He knew she was good at her job, and Croft had underestimated her.
“The DNA proved that the person who tossed that butt was the father of the dead woman’s child.”
He could feel the tingle of nerves. “What kind of accuracy are we talking about?”
“I had to rush it to get your results, but it’s at a little over ninety five percent.”
Croft was excited and proud of Emma’s truly excellent police work. “Thanks, Gail. Now I can relay this to the sheriff.”
She shrugged. “Good luck with trying that, Grey,” she said, trying out the nickname the sheriff had used.
It sounded completely wrong coming from her lips, much like nails on a chalkboard. “It’s Agent Croft, if you don’t mind, and what do you mean?” he asked, staring up at her.
Gail was seething. “Your girlfriend took off a few minutes ago. I was pulling the kit from the back of the van, and I saw her leaving,” she paused. “Since you’re alone tonight, want to join me for happy hour?”
It was too late. He was already on his way out the door and running back into the office.
Damn it!
The woman was definitely going to be the death of him. She didn't listen and had no sense of self-preservation. He ran into Briggs who stopped him. “I don’t have time, Curtis,” he warned.
“We have to talk, Croft! It’s about Emma.”
“Where is she?” he demanded, looking panicked.
Briggs grabbed his arm, trying to calm him. “She went home to take a shower. What’s wrong?”
His entire stomach rolled sickly. “The DNA from the cigarette butt matched the zygote, and Emma is the only one who knows who it belongs to. If the killer saw her take the sample, she could be in danger.”
“Shit! Croft, we have to go! Think we can catch her?”
Croft was running towards their car. “We have to try! I don’t want her left alone after this morning’s surprise, and now the DNA thing. She could have inadvertently found the killer’s identity.”
As they hopped into the car, Briggs told him everything about the call from Mrs. Landry and Emma’s plan of heading into the city alone.
“Over my dead body she is,” Croft muttered, driving like a mad man. “You’ll have to run the assignment here. We’ll be staying overnight at my place. Philly is a hot mess on the weekends.”
“You think she’ll agree to you going with her?”
There was no way in hell Emma was going alone. If he had to drive behind her, he would.
Croft was forced to slow down for the rocky dirt road to the cabins. He kept hoping and praying over and over as Briggs continually kept dialing her cell.
“It’s going to voice mail.”
Greyson prayed for divine intervention, and that Emma would be okay when he got there. When he finally got to her, he was going to either shake her senseless or toss her over his shoulder, carry her away, and never let her leave his side again.
He may even resort to handcuffs.
* * *
Emma pulled up to her cabin as the shadows were beginning to fall all around her, and the sun was setting behind the trees. Fall would be over soon, and she’d miss it. Everything kept moving forward, making Emma feel out of control.
Entering her home, her mind was elsewhere. As she pulled the keys from the lock, all of her cop training kicked in and alerted her.
Something was off!
There was no doubt in her mind--there was an intruder in her home. As Emma went to pull her gun, the noise behind her caught her off guard. The pain exploded behind her eyes as Emma was plunged into darkness.
The intruder grabbed her by the ankles and began pulling her across the floor.
“I enjoyed every second of that. Once I get you out of here, the fun can finally begin.”
* * *
They slid to a stop in front of the cabin. Immediately, Croft knew they were too late. Emma’s car was there but the lights were off and the front door was ajar.
“Something’s wrong,” Croft hissed in alarm, tearing out of the vehicle to get inside the house. His gun was drawn as he took one side of the door, staring at his partner.
“Ready?” Briggs whispered, holding up his fingers and counting down.
On three, Croft kicked the door open and peeked inside. His heart skipped at what he found. Emma was laying on the floor unconscious, her gun in her hand and a small puddle of blood forming next to her head. There were drag marks in blood across the wood floor towards the pat
io door.
Both men heard the footfalls across the back yard behind the cabin.
Briggs headed for them. “Stay with her, boss. I’ll go see if I can catch who did this.”
Croft dropped to his knees on the floor beside Emma, pulling her up into his lap and cradling her against his chest. “Oh my God! Emma, honey! Please wake up and look at me!” He stared at the blood on the floor and in her hair. He ran his hands over her forehead checking to see how bad she was injured.
His partner returned. “Whoever it was is gone. She must have surprised him while he was searching her desk.” Both men glanced over at the mess on the floor.
“Get me a towel,” he directed, pointing towards the kitchen. When Curtis returned, he delicately held it to her forehead. “Emma, honey! Please be okay.” He began laying kisses on her cheek and lips. “I need you to listen to my voice and come back to me.”
Emma moaned as she began waking up. The room was spinning and someone was coaxing her through the darkness. As she opened her eyes, she tried to focus on the face close to hers. “Grey?”
“I’m here, Em. I have you,” he reassured her.
“Oh damn, my head hurts,” she said, closing her eyes again to block out the light.
Greyson picked her up, carrying her to the sofa and sat with her cradled in his arms. His whole chance at happiness flashed before his eyes at the thought of the killer getting to her. Gently, he laid more kisses across her lips and nose.
Briggs had never seen his infallible partner rattled like this before. “I’ll check for fingerprints and then clean up the mess,” he offered, getting to work and taking pictures of the area first. Thankfully, they had a kit in the trunk for emergencies.
The man was grateful for his partner’s help.
“I’m okay, Grey. I just have a bitch of a headache,” admitted Emma.
Now that he knew she was safe, he was ready to lose his mind. “Christ almighty woman! I swear you’re trying to kill me! I find you bleeding on the floor, and the killer could have dragged you out of here,” he stated, pointing at the drag marks in blood across the wood. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
She closed her eyes. “Please stop shouting. My head hurts.”
Curtis moved back to crouch down in front of her. “Emma, did you see the person who was here?” asked Briggs.
“No, it was dark. Someone came up behind me, and when I turned, he hit me with something hard. How bad am I bleeding?”
Croft lifted the towel, trying to regain his composure. “Not too bad, honey. You know how head wounds are. It’s just a little cut on your forehead. You might need stitches though.”
“First aid kit in the bathroom linen closet,” she muttered, leaning against him. It was nice to feel safe. Emma was well aware this could have ended badly.
“I’ll get it,” offered Briggs, heading off down the hall. When he returned, he had the antiseptic out and a gauze pad. “You hold her, boss. I’ll take care of the cut,” he stated, kneeling down in front of her.
He moved the towel and gauged the wound for more bleeding. “Emma, honey, this is going to hurt. Just hold onto my hand and squeeze.”
“Ready?” Briggs asked, before he dabbed the wound.
She nodded, closing her eyes. Briggs patted the cut with the antiseptic. Emma flinched in his arms.
“It’s almost done. I’m sorry I don’t have any stories for you, Emma,” apologized Briggs. “Well, I have that one about me and the strip club, but Croft gets testy when I whip that one out.”
Emma snickered at the man’s attempt to make her laugh while she was in pain.
“Curtis, if you whip anything out around Emma, I’m going to be more than testy,” he stated, giving his partner the look.
He applied the butterfly Band-Aids to the cut to close it up. “I told you. The man doesn’t have a sense of humor.”
Emma finally opened her eyes, only to stare up into silver-y ones filled with concern. She offered him reassurance by touching his cheek with her hand. “I think he’s pretty funny.”
Croft leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t a kiss that he’d normally give her in front of others, but at that point, he didn’t care. He missed the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms, and this was his moment to convince her how she mattered to him.
Briggs cleared his throat, getting embarrassed by the lip lock. “It looks like we don’t need to call Doctor Brooks. I think it should hold without stitches. It’ll probably only leave a small scar.”
Slowly, he broke the kiss, running his thumb over her lower lip, lovingly.
“How long was I out?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder, whiles she stared at the younger agent. “And how did you get here so fast?”
Briggs laughed. “Croft drove like a man on fire. I swear it’s like he knew.”
“How did you know, Greyson?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
“I got the DNA results back from the lab, and it occurred to me that if it belonged to the killer, you were the only one who could identify where you got the cigarette butt from. If he saw you take it, then you were a target.”
She nodded at his logic.
“And I know you might not believe this,” he admitted softly, “but I just knew here,” he said, touching his heart.
Emma’s stomach fluttered at his admission. It had to mean something, didn’t it?
“Who’s DNA is it, Emma?” he asked, leaving a kiss over the bandage.
“Ron Tate,” she said, warmth flowing through her at the little gesture he’d made.
“The mayor is the father?” Briggs whistled, “It’s a good thing you weren’t out long, Emma. That man is on our short list.”
“You’re lucky he didn’t kill or rape you. I swear, Emma, I really want to throttle you right now. I told you to wait for me, and instead you were stubborn and look what happened.”
Briggs looked uncomfortable. “I think I’m going to head back to the cabin. It’s been a long day.” He angrily stared at Croft and mouthed the words ‘BE NICE’, and then glanced down at the woman in his lap. “Rest up, Emma,” he added, placing his hand on the top of her head.
“Goodnight, Curtis, and thank you for patching me up.”
He nodded then locked and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to be around for the hurricane that was coming. He might be forced to knock his partner on his ass.
“I need a shower,” was all she said, trying to get up from the sofa.
Croft slid her off his lap, leapt up, and began pacing back and forth. Now that they were alone, they needed to have a serious talk about her risking her life. “You and I have to have a discussion first, Emma.”
“Not tonight, babe. I have a killer headache,” she said, and then realized it was a bad time to joke around. Nothing she was going to say would make him laugh.
“You think that’s funny, Emma? You think I’m ready to laugh after coming in here, finding you lying in blood, and with a maniac trying to drag you out the back door? He could have hurt you worse, or I could have walked in to see him stabbing you just like the other women. Then what, Emma?”
“Grey, I’m fine.” She tried reassuring him. “It was a hit to the head, and you got here in time.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure as hell not fine!” He stormed over to her liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He dumped a healthy dose into the glass and started drinking.
Emma watched him incredulously as he chugged a glass of the amber liquid. That had to burn. “Grey, you’re going to make yourself sick,” she warned.
“I’m already sick,” he raged, pacing back and forth as he ran his hands through his hair. “Then before I leave your office, you give me the brush-off and in no uncertain terms tell me to go date someone else. You even were nice enough to pick her out. Do you know how that feels, Emma?”
Croft picked up the empty glass and was just about ready to destroy something in his anger. Instead, he slammed it back down ont
o the counter. When he turned to continue with his tirade, she was already standing and looked ready to have a knockdown, drag out fight.
“How you felt, Greyson? Do I know how you felt? My heart went ice cold. I know we can’t work out. I know you’ll leave in the end, and I’ll be sitting here picking up the pieces. I can’t believe that you could turn this to be all about you.”
Her words sliced at him, that in her heart she didn’t even think he’d stay. Emma believed he’d walk away when in actuality Greyson would crawl for her. “How can I not make it about me? I see you sitting on a bed, crying in another man’s arms, and for the life of me I can’t figure out how to make you trust me that much, so you’ll open up and let me comfort you.”
“I tell you practically everything!”
He crossed his arms. “And yet there’s something you can’t share. How do you think that makes me feel? You won’t share all of you, only the parts that you pick and choose.”
She sputtered in anger. “You’re being a jackass.”
Croft almost laughed at that because he certainly was, but he wanted any woman who he loved to feel the same thing about him.
As her head pounded viciously, she paced back and forth angrily. Her day was shitty. It started with the killer, and damn near ended up with the maniac too. Now on top of it all, the pounding in her skull was threatening to push her over the edge. “So, that’s what your temper tantrum was all about?”
He practically growled. “Yes! Call me crazy, but I don’t want my woman in another man’s arms!”
She stared at him as if he lost his mind. “Your woman? What am I a pair of shoes?”
“If you were, I could keep track of you a lot easier!” he shouted as he dodged a pillow that she threw at him.
Emma growled in frustration. “You are the most stubborn, arrogant, egotistical man in the universe!”
When he shrugged, she reached for another pillow. “In my world, there’s nothing wrong with any of those things.”
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 27