“Okay. We’ll be there soon.”
“Hey, can you do me a favor?” the man asked suddenly.
Croft knew something was off. “Yeah, what?”
“I need about eighty candy bars.”
“What?” he asked, unsure if he was serious. “Where am I supposed to get that many candy bars on Christmas night in Las Vegas?”
Emma was staring at him like he was crazy.
“It’s important. Just do it, and I’ll pay you back.”
Croft hung up the phone and started to their car. “We need to make a stop,” he stated, taking his wife’s hand in his. Sometimes, his partner confused the hell out of him.
“For candy bars?”
He said it before she could even ask. “I don’t know why, but we need to hit up every convenient mart here to the church.”
“Okay,” she replied laughing. “I told you the man had an appetite,” she teased, hopping up into her side of the Denali.
Just then, his phone rang. “Croft.”
“We need you back here,” Paris said. “Tessa may have figured out a possibility.”
“I can’t. You’ll have to bring it to me. Curtis found a connection to the church, and we’re on our way there now. Can you get there as quickly as possible?”
Paris knew they didn't really have a choice. While Croft may be asking, what he was really telling them was ‘get your ass moving’.
“We’re in route right now,” he said, motioning to Tessa to get her bag.
“See you in thirty minutes.” Greyson hung up the phone. “Now, let’s go candy shopping. All I know is that this better be damn important, or I’m going to kick his ass back to Philadelphia for wasting my time.”
Emma grinned behind her hand. There’s no way he’d ever do it. Her husband was more than attached to the young man.
Curtis Briggs had wiggled his way into her tough husband’s heart.
* * *
Max directed the team around the impound lot. They had to sweep for trace under, around, and in the vehicle. When his boss had called, he was very specific.
NOTHING was to be missed.
This car was tagged as the center of the investigation and that meant making sure they covered all the bases and did a complete job of it.
“We need everything pulled apart. The owner of this vehicle isn’t coming back for it, so we print it first, and then we pull it apart like a chop shop.”
The team kicked into work mode, hustling as quickly as possible to get it done.
They had to take apart the car and find something. After that, they needed to test it all and have it to the boss by his coffee first thing in the morning. He wouldn’t take anything as an excuse at this point in the investigation.
Yep, just another day working for Greyson Croft and the FBI.
* * *
Pulling up to the church, Croft got out of the Denali carrying bags full of candy. “Curtis, what gives?”
Right behind him was the second Denali, with Agents Archer and Brass. They practically raced over to them, trying not to stare at the man with the sacks of chocolates.
“Curtis, how about you walk us through this all, and then please explain why you needed the candy. We’re a little lost,” admitted Emma, trying to soothe ruffled feathers on the big angry Croft bird.
“Okay, follow me. Right now, we’re at the church, but if you take a leisurely stroll down this street here, it cuts across this alley right to the back door of this building.”
They all looked around.
“It’s the homeless shelter.”
Croft began processing the entire situation. “They’re practically neighbors.”
“Speaking of neighbors,” he continued, “If you were to walk five hundred feet this way,” he pointed, “you run right into the apartment of our first victim.”
There was no way that it wasn’t all connected. He handed Emma a flyer he found in the lobby of the church. “Apparently, Jessica Lester didn't only teach the elderly in retirement homes how to dance. We knew she taught little kids, but anyone want to guess what facility she used to do it in?”
“The church?” Emma guessed.
“Give the pretty woman a prize,” he grinned. “I’d give you candy, but I need it in a minute.” Refocusing, he pointed the other direction. “That area down there should look familiar. Six blocks away is Mary Lou Harwell’s home. She’s he furthest away from the church, but still in the general area.”
Tessa jumped in and continued, “I think we may also have a possibility that we may need to consider,” she began. “We think it may be connected to the mail.”
Paris finished for her, like he often did. “We think that the houses might be on a mail route, but we need an official map from the USPS, and no one can get that done on a Sunday and holiday.”
“Did my agent just bait me?” Croft asked, handing the bags of candy to Curtis. “Hold these,” he ordered, pulling out his phone.
“I’ll be right back,” Curtis said, taking the candy and walking off.
Emma needed to see what he was doing, so he gave him a head start, and then followed. When he went in the building, she wasn’t far behind, and when she peeked around the corner, she could hear his conversation.
“Willie,” he called to the young boy.
Watching from the doorway, she saw a little boy racing towards Curtis. The situation was piquing her curiosity.
When he reached him, Willie was smiling. “Hey, you came back.”
“I did, and I have something for you.” He handed him the bags. “Now, you can share with everyone okay?”
The boy looked at the candy with really big eyes. “I can have it all? For real?”
He nodded. “I’ll be back again, I promise.”
Emma watched the little boy race off with the bags and her eyes filled with tears. Before the agent could leave, a woman came out of the office.
“You know, when you said you’d be back, I didn't really believe it. Lots of people see this, and then make promises they don’t intend to keep.”
Briggs shrugged. “I’m not everyone else. I work with a man who imparted a few things into my life. Most importantly, to respect everyone and to always keep my word. I’ll be back as soon as this assignment’s over, and I’ll finish that room for you. It may take me months, but I’ll keep coming back as long as it takes to do it.”
“Thank you,” the woman said, patting his cheek. “You made Willie’s day. He won’t forget this for the rest of his life.”
Curtis nodded. “I have to go. My boss gets cranky when he has to track me down.”
Walking out, he peeked in at Willie handing out candy. The smile on his face was a mile wide and said it all. This would be a Christmas that neither would ever forget.
Then, he saw her.
Emma moved towards him and hugged the agent really hard. “Curtis Briggs, you are a really good man, and my partner was an idiot for letting you go,” she said, before kissing him right on the cheek. “I plan on telling her that too.”
He grinned at Emma.
“When you come back, I’ll come too.”
“I’d like that. How are you with a hammer? I need to ask, because I suck at construction and building things.”
Emma knew someone who could help them out. “I’ll get you a carpenter that is really good at micromanaging things and has a deep love of playing with power tools.”
Since he was aware of the person she had in mind, it made him snicker. “This should be entertaining and borderline torture for all involved.”
There was no doubt in her mind. “If worse comes to worse and we can’t figure it out between the three of us, we make the big caveman do the next best thing.”
He stared down at her. “What’s that?”
“We hand him his phone and let him hire someone to do it for us. There’s only one thing that Greyson is better at than micromanaging, and that’s bossing people around. We can sick him on the contractor until the job is d
one.”
Briggs chuckled. “That poor bastard. I almost feel sorry for whomever he hires. I get bossed around by him every day.”
Emma snickered. “Oh and I don’t?”
When they wandered back, Croft was staring at his partner. It was generally a look that he reserved for men who got a little too close to Emma. “Can you tell me why my wife’s lipstick is on your cheek?” he pointed. “In the shape of her lips?”
Briggs just laughed and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “I have no idea how that happened.”
“Curtis, I’ll…” He didn't get to finish before his wife stepped in and protected the younger agent.
“Greyson Croft! You leave him alone!”
The man looked surprised that she took someone’s side over his. “What? I think that’s a valid question deserving a good answer.”
She pulled him down and whispered in his ear, telling him everything that the man just did. When she was finished, the look on his face said it all.
“Count me in. I can use a hammer or a credit card.”
That’s the man she loved. “See Curtis?”
Briggs smiled. “It’s a possibility that we might need more help though. You wouldn’t happen to know a group of people you can control and scare into doing anything you want on or off the clock, do you?” Briggs questioned as he jerked his head at the other two agents.
Croft liked that idea. Maybe it would help them work through whatever it was that had them tied up in knots. “Are either of you good at building things?”
Tessa raised her hand. “I do all my own home projects.”
“Don’t look at me,” Paris said. “I use my brain, not tools.”
Emma knew what he could do. “Can you paint without getting it all over the place?”
“Yes, Why?”
The three grinned. “We’re all going to have one big, happy tool wielding love fest. As soon as this assignment is over, and if you think you can get out of it, think again,” Emma said laughing, as she pointing at her husband.
“I’ll deny your transfer, so if you’re thinking about one, you may want to stop right there.”
They just stared at them. It was like being run over by a train. Both Crofts didn't take no for an answer.
“Uh, okay,” Paris said. If his boss in the FBI wanted him to hold a paintbrush, so be it. If it meant that he could do it beside Tessa, even better. Now, he was curious if she really was good with tools. He knew she was spectacular in bed.
WOW, that was really inappropriate to think about his partner, even if it was spot on accurate. It was hard not to think about them together, and he was sure he flushed crimson.
Croft nodded, now that he’d taken care of that. “I contacted the head of the USPS. He assures me that the director of mail services will email us a list of routes tomorrow. How about we deal with the reverend and see what he has to say about his church being the epicenter of all this mess?
“I have his search done,” offered Paris. “You want me to brief you now before you go in?”
Croft thought about it. He knew his agent was good at profiling, but now he wanted to see if he could tackle the hardest part of being an agent- the interview. “You can lead this one while I watch to see if he’s a lying sack of shit.”
“You’re so going to hell,” Briggs said, following them.
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
Paris was nervous as hell and waited for the reassurance that would normally come from Tessa when she sensed his discomfort. It appeared that was over too.
Great. This day was getting worse and worse by the moment.
He couldn’t wait until Christmas was over.
Inside the church, they found people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. People were setting up chairs, and microphones were being tested along with lights and other sound equipment. It was obvious that they were going to be having a show of sorts.
Well, it was Christmas evening, and this was the biggest Christian holiday on the calendar next to Easter. He probably shouldn’t be surprised.
Across the room, they saw their intended target. He was just as frazzled as everyone else, except he was trying to direct people and talk on his phone at the same time. It was only adding to the confusion.
Croft cleared his throat, hoping to get his attention. When that didn't help, he did the next best thing. He grabbed the phone that was tucked between the man’s ear and shoulder, shutting it off.
That had him spinning around in anger. When he saw who was waiting for him, it died down rather quickly. “I don’t have time for this. I have a show starting in two hours and an organist that decided to turn off her phone and not follow through on obligations.”
That little feeling of awareness was building in Briggs’s belly. What were the odds that the church organist disappeared? Curtis touched his boss’s arm, stopping him from continuing. “Is this the same woman who just did the Christmas concert at the shelter?”
He didn't need to say anything more. Both Emma and Greyson understood where he was going with it. There rarely were coincidences in police work.
“Yes, Melody is our ONLY organist, which is why I’m really screwed and angry. If she doesn’t show up, I have sheet music and no one to play it. How do I get a pregnant Mary into a stable without music playing in the background?”
Continuing, Briggs pulled out his tablet. “Can I have her full name please?”
The reverend looked irritated to say the least. This was one more distraction that he didn't need. They were expecting a full house, and the show needed to go on. The blonde man ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Her name is Melody Rafferty.”
“Does she live around here?” Emma inquired, as Curtis did his thing and furiously typed away, looking for data and the woman’s picture.
“Yes, she lives a block away,” the reverend replied.
Pulling up the Medical examiner’s initial file, he compared it to the woman’s DMV photo. “Is this her?”
Reverend Thomas Corey nodded. “Yes, that’s her. Now can you tell me what the hell is going on here? It’s that or get out of my way. I have a show to set up.”
Croft didn't like his attitude and needed to get it under control before his agent conducted the interview. He took the tablet from Briggs and flipped to the autopsy photo.
“I hate to tell you this, Mr. Corey, but you have other problems right now that are far bigger than no one to play ‘Away in a Manger’.” He flipped it around to show him the photo. Watching for his reaction, he paused. “Your organist has a pretty good reason for not being here. Now, let’s see if your alibi holds up just as well.”
Thomas Corey stared down at his dead friend, lips a pale hue of blue and mottled fingerprints around her throat. It was such a horrible sight.
“She’s dead?” he asked shocked.
“Oh yeah, she’s seeing Jesus personally right now.”
Deacon Trent Simpson rushed over, a look of worry on his face. “Thomas, what’s going on?” he demanded, giving all the agents dirty looks. “We have to get ready for the show tonight!”
Reverend Corey shook his head. “I need to talk to the agents first, apparently, there’s an issue.”
Croft found it odd that the man didn't tell the deacon that their organist was dead. “It’s more than an issue, Reverend. It’s an official questioning.”
The deacon gasped. “Do you need me to call you a lawyer?” he asked.
Leading the man away by the arm, Emma followed. “You may Deacon Simpson. We’ll get back to you on that.”
* * *
Captain Ford was still in his office. He was thinking over everything that the FBI agent and his detective had told him. The entire situation pissed him off to no end.
The idea that they had a rat in their house made him want to rant and rave around like a lunatic. He took his job very serious. In fact, he was the job, and this was an effrontery to everything he stood for in life.
<
br /> Being a cop meant taking a vow to follow the rules and play by them. Now, this had been dropped in his lap. It had the anger building deep within his gut. If IAB got wind that one of the cops was taking bribes and trying to off his co-workers, there’d be hell to pay.
He leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath as he tried to picture all the men and women in his division. They were all good cops. Yeah, he had a few that drove him bat shit insane, like Sawyer Laden, but they were still his family.
This house was his and he wanted it to be clean.
Ford was angry, and some of that rage was directed at himself. Maybe this mess was his fault.
He was spending too much time locked away in the office and not enough time interacting with his people.
Had this all been because the cop believed that he wouldn’t pick up on it because his head was buried in the commissioner’s ass?
Well, that was about to change.
No more was he sitting behind his desk and doing nothing but paperwork.
Damn it! He was a cop, and he was going to start acting like one again, starting with getting back out into the field.
If someone was tainting his division, that was about to end. Christopher Ford was going to shake it all up and hopefully make someone very nervous.
He grinned. Yeah, it was time to lose the desk and hit the streets. It had been a long time coming.
The commissioner could take his captain bars and shove them. The cop was back and now it was time to clean house.
* * *
Another man sat behind his large mahogany desk, flipping through the papers and invoices. He was listening to Christmas music and thinking about the really great day he’d had with the Crofts.
It had been a long time since he felt this much joy and happiness inside. The warmth gave life back into his heart. Now, he had something to look forward to for the rest of his life.
Things were definitely looking up.
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 33