Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3)

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Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 30

by Morgan Kelley


  That was funny, and she hoped he was relating it to work and not his personal life. “Good to know, Maguire. Good to know.”

  * * *

  Sunday Afternoon

  They were halfway through ‘White Christmas’ when there was another call. Croft gently removed his wife from his body and headed into the kitchen.

  Today was a testament of his adoration for her. He loved her enough to watch Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby sing show tunes. He swore his testosterone level dipped.

  “Director Croft.”

  The voice over the phone broke the bad news. They were back on duty and heading to another crime scene. Awesome.

  You would think the killer would want to kick back and relax on the holiday.

  Hanging up the phone, he walked back into the room and paused the movie. “Honey, go get dressed. I’ve got bad news. It looks like our holiday is over, because we have another scene. The killer deposited two more bodies for us.”

  Emma was up fairly fast. “Okay, Grey,” she glanced over at Randall. “Thank you for coming. I hope you’ll come by again.”

  He smiled at her. “My dear, it was my pleasure. Thank you for having me in your home.”

  Emma raced off to go get ready, as her husband walked him to the door.

  “Keep your eyes open out there, Greyson. I’ll go work on who’s keeping track of you and Emma.”

  Thanking Randall, he closed the door behind him and raced after his wife. “Emma, put on body armor,” he demanded as she grabbed hers from the closet. If they were going out to a scene, she was going to be protected.

  “Okay,” she agreed easily. “You too.”

  He already had his out and was shrugging into it. Croft wasn’t arrogant enough to risk a bullet to the chest that would end his life.

  Emma finished dressing first. Going to her night stand, she removed her firearm and loaded it. “Where are we heading?”

  Croft was buttoning his shirt. “The address is in my phone,” he stated, waiting for her to figure out what he’d already knew.

  “It’s the Methadone clinic.”

  “Yep. It looks like our killer was familiar with it after all. Now, we need to head there and see what he left for us.”

  Emma watched him slip into his Kevlar. “Do you want me to call your two agents while you finish dressing? They should probably assist us.”

  “Yeah, the whole team is back on duty.”

  “This was a really great day while it lasted,” Emma reassured him, squeezing his hand.

  He had to agree. Now, if it could just end on a high note, with both of them returning home alive.

  It didn't take long to get there. The streets were deserted, as families were having big dinners that involved kids, loved ones and copious amounts of food.

  While they were all celebrating, the people tasked with keeping the city safe were doing what they did best.

  Staring at the dead.

  The Feds had set up a perimeter and were waiting for Greyson Croft to roll onto the scene. When he finally pulled up and jumped out of his Denali, the look on his face shared his mood.

  “What do we have?”

  One of the agents promptly offered up everything they had discovered since arriving. “Sir, we have two women and it’s the same as the other two scenes, with the exception of the note and the second woman.”

  “What’s wrong with them?” he asked, walking towards the ME beside the bodies.

  Then, he saw it and didn't need a reply. The killer was escalating. The woman’s face was beat to oblivion, and her body was covered in bruises.

  “Holy crap,” muttered Briggs. “Someone was angry when he killed her.”

  “It looks like he’s losing control.” Emma didn't like that at all. This was a bad sign.

  The agent handed him the Christmas card sealed in the evidence bag. He read it, and then passed it to his wife.

  Croft,

  You failed. I guess you’ll have to wait until next year. I’ll be working on my ‘naughty and nice’ list as I prepare for round two.

  Kris Kringle.

  Emma knew he was going to be pissed. The man was openly challenging her husband, and he would take that as a personal affront. “The good news is that no one else will die. We bought ourselves time to find him, babe.”

  Croft partially agreed. “But the bad news is that the longer the trail goes cold, the less of a chance we have to get him.”

  Then, he realized someone was missing.

  “Where the hell is the ME?”

  Emma looked around. It wasn’t like Steele to be late. The man was incredibly prompt. “Want me to text him?”

  “Please, we need him here ASAP.”

  Briggs ran over. “We have media. I just told the agents on scene to get the screens up and fast. These women are fairly close to the road.”

  From across the parking lot, Agent Brass raced towards them. “Sorry, but I was in the shower and had to get dried off,” she apologized.

  Emma noticed her eyes were red, and she didn't believe she was inebriated. That meant only one other option.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, knowing what stirred women up more than anything. This had the makings of ‘man issues’ all over it.

  “Yeah, what can I do?” she asked.

  “I’m here,” Agent Archer said, rushing up behind her.

  When the man touched his partner’s arm, Emma noticed that the woman moved away and covered her eyes with her sunglasses. The second agent looked distraught.

  Oh yeah. It was most definitely a man thing.

  “Both of you can start the canvas,” Croft ordered. “I want to get these women out of here and fast.”

  Before they could leave, Briggs spoke up. “Now we’ve had two bodies in a park and two in a trailer park. What do we have here?”

  Everyone looked around.

  “The Methadone clinic doesn’t really fit the previous locations,” Croft said.

  Emma simply shook her head. “I swear you four need a month in my job. He left them in a parking lot. I think you’re all assuming the killer is trying to be elaborate and he’s not.”

  Croft wasn’t amused. “What the hell is he trying to say?” When his wife shrugged, not knowing the answer, he let it go.

  Sometimes, you couldn’t rationalize what went on in the mind of the crazies.

  * * *

  The killer lounged on his couch, having his morning coffee. He watched the local news on his laptop and was enjoying the cops running around like maniacs.

  They were completely clueless when it came to all of it. He was leaving stupid little hints that meant nothing. He wasn’t sure which was more fun; taking his women or screwing with the Feds. The locations meant nothing at all and were just a little way for him to be amused as they burned time trying to find him.

  Nothing would lead them to him. If anything, he was good at covering his trails. He’d made damn sure of it. Each woman was random and pointed elsewhere.

  Only he knew the single thing they each had in common and only a genius could see it. That alone made him smarter than them.

  Before he knew it, the next year would be upon him and it would be time to start again.

  “Oh, if my family could only see me now,” he stated laughing.

  Yeah, so much for that.

  Like his victims, they were dead to him too.

  * * *

  The medical examiner was late getting to the scene. It seemed that he had another body to handle. Apparently, Christmas wasn’t a quiet time of the year for Steele Bentley either.

  So, they headed back in, leaving the agents to guard the women and keep the media from getting a picture of the victims. Greyson didn't want his wife wandering around the parking lot without a slew of protection.

  Back in his office, he sat in his chair and rubbed the tension in his forehead. The stress was mounting up, and he needed a break in the case.

  Before he knew it, Emma was behind him, working the knots from his
back. With each rub, he was closer to feeling human again. “Honey, if you keep going, I’ll give you whatever you want,” he promised. “You need a third kidney? I have a spare.”

  Emma laughed. “Gee, now I’m the masseuse in your office. I know what would really relax you,” she teased.

  If he wasn’t sitting, he would have fallen over.

  The look on his face was priceless.

  “Uh, I have to decline that offer, and not because the idea of your head in my lap isn’t hot, but because losing my job cools my libido right down.”

  She giggled. “Okay, how about a boring old married kiss to take away some of the stress?”

  That he’d do anytime.

  Emma dropped her lips to his, offering him a little peace and comfort. Her husband had a tough job, and he was close to cracking. When she pulled away, he looked a little more relaxed.

  “Want me to get you some coffee?” she asked, going back to rubbing his shoulders.

  “No. In a few minutes, we need to go harass Archer and Brass. I need the data they were working on the other day. We officially have nothing.”

  Emma was about to make his day worse. “If I knew something that you probably should be aware of, but weren’t, would you want me to share it with you?”

  He turned in his chair to stare at her, when he had no damn clue what she was trying to tell him. “We’re married and shouldn’t have any secrets, so that’s a definite YES. Why? What’s going on?”

  “First, I have a question. What’s the FBI’s policy on two agents carrying on a sexual relationship?” Emma inquired.

  Croft didn't like where this was heading. “Agents can get married and carry on normal lives.”

  “What about partners?”

  “If I see it then I have to stop it, why?”

  Emma stared at him.

  “Oh shit! Are you telling me that Archer and Brass are having sex? Everyone knows that two people can’t be shacking up and still do this job together. That opens up a whole new can of worms and adds unnecessary pressure to the partnership.”

  Now, she crossed her arms and cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon, Senior Special Agent, remember me? Sheriff Emma Starling? You rode into my town to help me find a killer. We were living together on day four and married in two weeks. I think we did the job just fine, in fact, we’re working together now. So, where’s the drama?”

  He rubbed the tension behind his eyes. “That’s different! I was going to marry you on day one. I didn't plan on sleeping with you, having a big fight, and then breaking up.”

  Emma shrugged. “Well, now, you better go out to them and tell Archer to stop dipping into the team well. Or better yet split them up. They aren’t good as partners anyway, right?”

  “I’ll put this on my list of shit to deal with later,” he said, not wanting to have that conversation or break them apart. “Right now I have someone trying to corrupt me, another person wants to hurt my wife, and I have a killer with six dead women notched into his belt. This is the last thing that I need to deal with right now.”

  She laughed. “Maybe it will all work out.”

  “Yeah, because I’m so damn lucky.”

  “You found me didn't you?” Emma offered smiling.

  Croft did, and that was the highlight of his life. “Come on, let’s go deal with my agents. I want to see if you’re right.”

  She held out her hand. “Yes, Grey. Anything you say, since you’re the boss.”

  He laughed, knowing it was total bullshit. They both knew who the boss was in their home. “Yeah, right.”

  Paris Archer sat in the conference room with his partner and was suffering in silence. She had barely said a word to him the entire morning.

  When they sat down, she put a chair between them and dropped her bag on it as a barrier. This is what he assumed would happen when the line was crossed.

  This was why work and sex didn't mix, even if it was the most amazing sex that he had ever had in his entire life.

  “Are we never speaking to each other again?” he asked, softly.

  Tessa looked up, sipping her coffee. “I’m not ignoring you, Paris. That’s the first thing you said to me since we got here.”

  “The only problem is that you’re usually the one who drives the conversation between us. You ask questions, I barely talk, and you get frustrated and try to get me to say more.”

  Tessa didn't laugh.

  “It’s how we generally work. You know it’s our thing.”

  Putting her cup down, she stared at him. “You said this morning, that I was a big mistake, meaning you wish you never did it. So, I’m giving you what you wanted. It’s erased and meant nothing at all.”

  That stung, and he imagined when he said it, it hurt her too. “Tess, what I meant was…”

  “It never happened. It’s better this way.”

  He could see the hurt on her face.

  “I hate that you see last night as nothing more than an error, but you know what, Paris? I can’t change that. I can only accept it and move forward. It won’t happen again, and I apologize for kissing you. It’s entirely my fault. I own it, and I promise it won’t ever happen again. The line’s been drawn and it won’t be crossed. I’m using this as a lesson and I can see that you and I would be terrible together,” she paused. “You were right.”

  Now the sting was a growing burn.

  “I’m going to prove one thing out of all this. That the partnership will be fine, even if personally we will never be the same again.”

  “Tess,” he reached for her hand, only to have her move away, unwilling to have the basic contact.

  Her eyes darted up to her boss as he, Emma and Briggs entered the room.

  Croft wasted no time. “You were working on that map the other day. What do we have?” he asked, taking a seat. Emma sat beside him, resting her hand on his leg to connect them.

  Tess stood, unrolling a large outline of the victims’ homes. “We only have the first four victims, but if you look at the map, Paris and I found something you might find fascinating.”

  They all stood.

  Tessa pointed at the deceased women’s homes. “Here we have victim one through four,” she started naming them and pointing to the blue star representing their homes. “What do you see?”

  Croft saw a few things. First, his wife was absolutely right. There was something going on between the two agents that wasn’t there the other day. The female looked mad and the male looked worked into a chaotic tizzy.

  Well shit. They were his best team. This was going to certainly jack it up.

  The next thing he saw was the pattern on the map. “It’s all around a central location,” he said. “What the hell is in the middle?”

  Paris took over, as he normally would. “It’s a block of various buildings, but you may be happy to know, it’s one we’re familiar with.”

  Croft didn't have time. “Spill it.”

  “It’s God’s Salvation Church.”

  The plan was already falling into place. “I need the identities of the two victims today. Once we get them, I want you to mark them on here. If they fall in the grid, we’re going to be giving the reverend a little visit.”

  Tessa pulled out her phone. “I’ll call the ME’s office and see if they have an ID yet,” she offered. After making the call and hanging up, she told her boss what she had learned. “He’s ready to see us, and there’s been a twist we need to be made aware of immediately.”

  Croft stood. “Then let’s join our friend, Doctor Bentley, over at the morgue to see what he has for us.”

  Walking out, Emma leaned in close to her husband. “See?” Part of her hoped that she had been horribly wrong, but then it was better for him to be aware of what was happening before it exploded around him.

  “Yeah, I’ll have a man to man with Agent Archer later.”

  Emma glanced up. “Why him?”

  Croft grinned. “We all know that if a woman’s mad about something, it’s pr
obably the man’s fault, one way or the other.”

  “Awwww babe, now you’re learning.”

  “Yeah, old dog and a new trick.”

  As they were about to pull into the police station, Croft saw the commotion up ahead. There were media vans all over the place and reporters sitting there waiting for an interview.

  It meant rerouting them to the back door of the morgue, hoping the reporters didn't see the Denalis and follow.

  Once in the back, Croft had Briggs ring the buzzer. When the gate opened, they all made a dash for it. Inside the safety of the building, Emma was surprised to see her partner standing there with the ME.

  “Brynn, Merry Christmas,” she said, hugging her friend. “I miss you. When are you coming back to homicide?”

  “Tomorrow or Tuesday I’ll be sitting at my desk. I hope you’ll be joining me,” she replied.

  Emma shook her head. “Not until this is over.”

  Looking over, she saw Curtis watching her. “Merry Christmas, Greyson,” she added, hugging the man.

  “Hello, Brynn. You should have joined us this morning. Emma made breakfast.” He was trying to act the buffer between both of their partners.

  “I would have, but I was busy. Vice worked today and I was on duty.”

  She stared at the man who she had recently been sleeping with. “Merry Christmas, Curtis.”

  “You too, Brynn.”

  Emma jumped in fast to cut out the awkwardness. “What do you have to show us, and why is someone who is working vice hanging out in autopsy?”

  They all began the walk back into the morgue.

  The ME waved his hand at Brynn, offering her the floor. Since she’d found the body, the detective earned the right to kick off the tale.

  “Well, a funny thing happened today on my way to a hooker sting, and I thought you’d want to hear all about it,” she began. “While I was out working the street the other night, we bagged a drug dealer. As we were booking him in, he offered up information to get a lesser charge.”

 

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