Strolling through the desks, she greeted Detective Laden, and then Detective Mace Bristol. They’d been partners for a while, until Sawyer Laden crossed a line and pushed too far. Now, they seemed to be amicable, but not buddies like they once were.
Dropping down into her desk, she waited for her partner to finish typing before she interrupted her.
Since getting back to work from being injured during one of their assignments together, she’d noticed something big. Brynn had shacked up with Greyson’s partner, Curtis Briggs, and it appeared to be going downhill fast. Her mood was less sunny, her attitude crankier, and her blue eyes were always troubled.
Where the first few weeks they were both giddy, now they both had seemed a bit off.
“Hey, I’m almost done,” Brynn said, hitting one last key. Their printer sprung to life. “Tadaa!”
Emma laughed. The woman had become more than a partner. She had also become her friend. They’d spent Thanksgiving as a makeshift family at the condominium, and it was nice after years of being alone to have someone who was part of your circle.
Family didn't have to be blood.
They just had to accept and love you for who you are.
“How was lunch with Greyson?” Brynn asked and looked back up when there wasn’t a response. She could tell there was something going on, when her partner’s face was emotionless at the mention of his name.
Normally, she’d get this dopey grin and start talking about the love of her life. Brynn thought it was cute, although now that her and Curtis were fighting more often, she was back to being jealous again.
Emma shrugged.
“You know you can tell me. I’ll listen to anything that’s bothering you. God knows, you’ve listened to me bitch a lot the last few weeks.”
This was more proof to Emma that her friend wasn’t happy. This was going to put them all in a predicament.
She already saw it coming.
Curtis was her husband’s partner, and Brynn was hers. At the moment, they had a carefully balanced relationship. God, she prayed sex didn't get in the way of them as a well-oiled machine.
Shit!
Emma debated on sharing with her friend and partner.
“Come on. Just spill it. I bet you’ll begin to feel better,” Brynn reassured.
“Greyson invited me to lunch this morning. He told me that he would have time for me,” she paused. “I know he’s been busy lately, especially the last two days, but I was looking forward to sitting beside him and just enjoying our time together.”
Uh oh.
“What happened?”
Emma broke it down, telling her how he blew her off and practically raced from the office with barely a word spoken to her.
Brynn was in a tough situation here. “Okay, part of me wants to start the ‘men are assholes’ tirade, and the other part wants to rationalize his behavior. Which will make you feel better?” she asked grinning. “You know I suck at this girl stuff.”
That made her laugh and lightened her mood greatly. “Go with both. I have plenty of time.”
“Okay,” she began. “Men are inconsiderate assholes that have no clue what they’re doing in life. In fact, without us women, they’d get lost walking from the kitchen to the bedroom.”
Emma giggled. She didn't buy that for a second with Greyson. He could run an empire on zero sleep, the flu, and with both hands tied behind his back.
“On the other side,” Brynn continued, “the man loves you more than anything in the world. If he blew you off, there had to be some pretty important issue that came up.”
“There was a press conference.”
“See. You know how he hates those, and he was probably all stirred up over having to handle the media. Mr. Smooth doesn’t like to show his cards in poker, and he was just cranky.”
Emma knew she was probably right.
“I’m sure you’ll get home tonight to candlelight, music and some piece of jewelry to add to your collection.
She didn't doubt it. Because she’d married a caveman, he was usually predictable. If there was one thing she could appreciate about her husband, he was possessive and took very good care of her.
“Feel better?” she asked hopefully.
Brynn was right. Her husband was just under a great deal of pressure. She’d cut him a break. “Yeah, I do. Thank you for cheering me up. Maybe I’ll cut out early and go surprise him at home tonight with his mother’s lasagna.”
“That sounds like a great idea. I’m leaving soon myself. Since you’re taking off the next couple of days, I offered to pop on over to vice for some extra work. It seems they’re busier than we are for a change.”
“Wow, what’s the world coming to when homicide falls below prostitution on the strip?”
“I know! That’s why I’m going to help. I may need a job when we become obsolete.”
Emma grinned, and then went in for the kill. “So, what’s going on between you and Curtis that has you so unhappy?”
Brynn tried to cover the look on her face, but Emma had managed to catch her off balance.
“There’s nothing.”
“Liar liar. You need to get better at not telling the truth if you plan on hanging in vice. They’re all about lies.”
She sighed. “Okay, but can we keep this between us? I know he’s always around you, and I want to think some things out for a while.”
“I swear I will.”
She began to purge. “I feel like he’s smothering me to death. I know that you like that possessive, control freak thing, but I don’t. Curtis is beginning to have too many shades of Greyson Croft.”
Emma tried not to laugh. It always befuddled her partner how she could enjoy having the man be as possessive and over protective as he was. There was no way to explain it. Emma just enjoyed being with a man who wasn’t afraid to take control. In her life, she had to be in charge of a lot of things, but when she was with her husband, he was the boss.
Well, somewhat.
During sex, he was more aggressive, and he tried to tell her what to do daily, but rarely did he get what he wanted. She had to play a little hard to get. It kept the marriage fresh.
Immediately, her hand went to the necklace he’d given her weeks ago. The platinum handcuffs symbolized a few things to them. She wore them as a cop, but also as a reminder of whom she belonged to in life. There was no hiding her feelings when it came to how much the whole premise turned her on. Tough Greyson Croft made her all hot and bothered, in and out of bed, simply by being himself.
“This is my point,” Brynn said, watching her. “You can tell you’re thinking about him again. Whenever you do, you play with your necklace. You may like being the caveman’s woman, but it rubs me the wrong way.”
Emma understood completely. Everyone was unique and had far different needs. Hers were matched perfectly with the man she chose to marry. “To each their own, Brynn.”
“Please don’t hate me for what I just said, but I’ve been keeping it in, and it just spewed out on you.”
She tried to offer her reassurance. “Brynn, I’m not upset by the truth. You’re not me. I know that you have aspirations that I don’t. The only advice I can give you is, that if you’re not happy then end your relationship with Curtis. You’re living together, not married.”
She’d already thought about it. “Does it make me a bad person to do it? I mean, he’s a really great guy. He took care of me after I was shot. The sex is great, but we can’t have sex twenty four/seven to forget about the rest of life. He’s just too damn bossy for me.”
“Have you discussed it with him and told Curtis you’re unhappy?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“Yeah, and it turns into a screaming match. He informs me he’s just being a man and this is what men do.”
Emma hid a grin behind her cup. Yeah, there were definitely signs of another caveman in the making. She warned her husband that the younger agent was impressionable, and like a baby duck, he was following the le
ader.
“I just don’t want to break up with him and lose my friends in the process.”
She was appalled. “You really believe I’d toss our relationship because you and Curtis didn't work out?”
The shrug said it all.
“Brynn, if you’re not happy, don’t stay trapped. It doesn’t get easier. It gets harder. I can attest to that.”
She nodded and was so very appreciative to have her partner’s insight. “I’ll think it through.”
Emma stood. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me. I’m going to cut out, now that my work here is done.” She grabbed her purse and smiled. “I’ve got to head to the store and get me the fixin’s for my man’s favorite dinner.”
Brynn snorted. “I’d buy the frozen boxed lasagna and call it a night.”
“I can’t. I’m not allowed,” she stated with a straight face. When her partner looked appalled, she giggled. “I was kidding. Do you know how many preservatives are in that crap? I want Greyson to live a long time, not pickle his innards.”
“I never want to hear you say that phrase again,” she retorted, laughing. “It reminds me of being in the morgue.”
Emma went to her partner and hugged her. “It will work out,” she whispered. “Hang in there. Merry Christmas, Brynn.”
She watched her partner walk away.
“You too, Emma,” she whispered, sitting back down. “I hope you’re right.”
Once outside, Emma was busy planning their evening in her head. She would stop by the market to pick up the wheat lasagna noodles and organic mozzarella for her husband’s dinner. If she was going to give him real cheese, at least there should be no preservatives.
First, she should probably send him a text to tell him they had a date planned for tonight. This time she wasn’t going to be blown off and wasn’t taking no for an answer. Emma was going to make sure she had his full attention, even if she had to cook dinner naked or only in an apron. Tonight, she’d make a stand and tell him that his blow off wasn’t ever happening again.
Coffee in one hand, phone, and keys in the other, she walked towards her car typing the message. As she paused to hit the remote for her car, there was the telltale sign of her locks disengaging. There was a smile on her face as she returned to the text, her focus solely on the task at hand, as she typed the very sexy message.
The second before hitting send, there was an explosion of pain in her head and the feeling of falling into the darkness. Before blacking completely out, she could feel her body slamming brutally into the pavement below.
Her last thoughts were jumbled, as she didn't understand what was going on but either way, it couldn’t be good.
Oh shit!
Emma was in trouble.
Chapter Two
Wednesday
Early Afternoon
Handing in the last of the paperwork to her boss, Captain Christopher Ford, she hightailed it out to her desk to shut everything down and head out for the day.
Banging out a quick text to the man she was currently living with, Brynn told him where she was going and she’d meet him at home.
See?
This was exactly her point. Emma didn't mind telling her husband what she was doing all day, but Brynn did. Briggs didn't own her, but that’s how she ended up feeling.
Crankily, she slammed her desk drawer, drawing the attention of the men around her. “Sorry, it slipped,” she stated, hoping they bought it. “Merry Christmas, guys! I’ll see you when I get back from vice after the holidays.”
There were the customary choruses of replies, smiles, waves and the typical camaraderie between the detectives.
For now, she had the entire day to herself, and Brynn needed to head home and take care of some things before she and Curtis sat down to talk.
Walking out, she headed to her car. Something caught her eye and drew her attention. Not parked far from her vehicle was Emma’s. That was a little weird. She had left at least forty minutes ago. Moving towards it, there was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she approached it.
The car door was open slightly and her coffee cup was lying on the ground, spilled.
Holy Shit! This couldn’t be good.
Racing over to the side of the Navigator, she pulled a spare pair of gloves from her bag and slipped them on. Careful not to step in the coffee, she opened the door.
Now she knew something was wrong.
In fact, it was horribly amiss.
Inside sat Emma’s badge, gun and phone. Lying on the passenger seat was her purse and all the contents strewn, as if someone tossed it in or there was a fight.
Pulling out her own phone, she knew she needed to make a call, as she raced back inside to her boss.
Hell was about to open up when her husband found out.
Someone had taken Emma Croft!
Greyson was sitting in his office and talking to his partner about what their plans were for the rest of the week. He knew the man wanted to cut out and go see his girl, but the FBI team was buried in work and it didn't look like a possibility.
He was aware of that infatuation you felt when you met someone. How you always wanted to be with them, and couldn’t stand to be away. To this day, he still wanted to be home cuddling with Emma all the time. If they were independently wealthy, he’d bag the job in a heartbeat.
“What are you and Emma doing for Christmas?” Curtis asked.
“We have a function on Christmas Eve. Randall Mason is throwing his annual party at his mansion. I have to attend as FBI director.” That wasn’t true. He wanted to be there to see if the man offered him up any bribes, but his partner didn't need to know that. In fact, the less he knew the better.
“What about Christmas day?”
He wasn’t sure. “I think sex and holiday movies on the couch.” There was part of him that missed his family, but they couldn’t get back east to see them this season. This would be the first one where he didn't get to be with them.
It stung a little, but it was his fault and no one else’s. The job meant a cross to bear and sacrifices to make. Emma would have made the trip back to Philly had he been available. It was sweet of her to offer, since he knew how hard it was for her to return there.
Before Curtis could say anything, his office line buzzed.
“Director, you have an emergency call on line one from Brynn Westmore.”
He practically jumped out of his seat as he hit the speakerphone button. “What happened?” he barked, knowing his wife’s partner wouldn’t be calling him to tell him there was an emergency unless something cataclysmic had gone down.
A million things flooded his brain. She was shot, hurt, car accident or any other possible scenario.
“You have to get here fast. Emma cut out early, as I was coming out forty minutes later, her vehicle was here.”
He calmed. There was the possibility she walked to go shopping. The police station was right by the shopping district. “I’m sure she…”
Croft was cut off.
“Her gun, badge, purse, and phone are on the front seat. The door is open and there’s a note for you. Ford has the car cordoned off. Bring a team and get here fast. Something bad has happened to Emma.”
She didn't tell him about the blood her boss found on the ground. He’d have a heart attack, more so than she was sure he was right then and there.
Croft was out of his seat. “Mobilize a lab team and some agents and get them there. I have to get there now!” Greyson literally ran from the building, not caring if everyone stared. He could hear his partner organizing everything as he raced from the room. Then Curtis spoke words that scared him and damaged his heart further.
‘Someone has taken the Director’s wife.’
Time seemed to move slow as he finally made it out to the lot and into one of the cars. It was as if he was having an out of body experience. Greyson swore he was watching himself go through the motions, just trying to pull it all together. Croft hit all the lights a
nd sirens as he raced to get to his wife’s office. Deep down, he was praying that someone was playing a horrible prank on him.
There had to be a mistake.
How could this be happening?
He’d just seen her two hours ago.
Yeah, as he blew her off and stormed past her. Part of him hoped Emma was just setting him up for the pain he’d obviously inflicted on her heart, but then he knew that his wife wouldn’t do this to him.
The ten-minute drive took half the time, as he screamed down the street to where she worked. Once in the parking lot, he jumped out and raced towards the circle of detectives. Already, he could see the very telling looks on their faces.
It wasn’t a joke.
His wife was gone.
Oh Christ! What did he do now?
One of the cops held up the crime scene tape as he charged under it. Greyson didn't even stop to talk to his wife’s partner. She too stood there with a look of fear on her face, and he knew it was bad.
Ford met him halfway and physically stopped him. “Director! Don’t do it! We need your team to check it first. If there’s any evidence, we need it to find Emma.”
He was so sick to his stomach that he wanted to drop to his knees and retch. It was a toss-up between that or weeping.
“We checked the vehicle, and she’s not in it.” He didn't need to tell him they were searching for her body in the lot or the blackened out confines of her Navigator. He was a cop, and he knew the procedure.
“Brynn said there’s a note. I need to see it.”
All he could think of was Kris Kringle and the challenge he’d thrown down. Did he take Emma?
Next, he began picturing the women they found, and he began saying prayers to any saint, God, or higher power that existed.
“You have to put on gloves.”
Croft nodded, still trying to get past the man blocking his way. He was well aware that he needed to be the director, not the husband. If Greyson wanted his wife back, he needed to hold up.
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 5