He laughed. “Hey!”
“Okay, so which of us is being moved?” That idea blew big time. She liked working with him. Paris was the perfect partner.
“Neither.”
Now, she wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m confused.”
“Yeah, I was too, but he said as long as no one points it out to him, and we keep it professional, he’s not intervening.”
“Really?”
He watched it all register on her face. Obviously, she didn't want to lose him as a partner either.
“I don’t know if I should laugh or be wary that the Croft-man is being nice,” Tessa admitted.
“I would go with happy on this one. I’m betting the big boss doesn’t bend a lot of rules on partners often,” Paris said, watching her open a box.
“What’s that?”
“Bacon.”
“In a box? Since when did they start doing that?”
She wasn’t sure if he was serious or kidding. “You really do eat out a lot, don’t you?”
“Every day.”
Tessa just shook her head. “It’s microwaveable bacon and it’s precooked…” she paused. “How do you have a master’s degree in whatever it is you do and not know about this?”
“It’s in forensic psychology, and I don’t cook. My parents never ate at home.”
She stared at him. Well his education explained why he was so good at profiling. He’d gone to school to do just that. “What do your mother and father do for a living?” she asked, popping the bacon in the microwave. “If you don’t mind me asking, but it’s only fair since you know my mother tried to kill me at birth,” she stated, trying to joke, but both of them knew it was nothing more than a front. It still hurt her.
Paris didn't move towards her. He knew her well enough that he could anticipate her reaction if she thought he saw her as weak.
“My mom is an archeologist and my dad is a writer. They used to travel together. My mom would dig up the remains and my dad would write about it.”
Okay, so she knew where he got his brains from. “Did you ever go with them?”
“Yep. I’ve been all over. Pretty much everywhere from Egypt to Honduras, and of course Paris, Texas.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. If it’s any consolation,” she said, flipping the eggs. “I happen to like your name.”
“Hey! What a coincidence, so did the bullies at school,” he teased. “In fact, they loved it.”
“Rough, huh?”
He laughed more. “Oh yeah, you could say that. My parents travelled a lot and that was great, but when we’d go back home, it sucked. It wasn’t easy to assimilate back into the crowd. Apparently, being literal and overanalyzing gets you picked on by other kids.”
That bothered her. Paris was sexy and smart, and she’d kick the shit out of anyone who said otherwise. “Sorry, I don’t have toast, this is a grain free house,” she offered, putting the bacon on his plate. He was staring at it like it was a miracle.
“I may never have to leave my house again. There’s pork in a box.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she continued, feeling the need to know more about the man she was starting something with. What exactly it was, she had no clue as of yet.
“I’m an only child. My mom tells everyone that she and my dad went to Egypt and came back with a little extra something special. I don’t think I was planned.”
That made her laugh. “I think she’s right.”
He stared over at her, measuring her words and what they could possibly mean. Was Tessa calling him special? His heart skipped in his chest at the implications.
She tried to ignore the look on his face. Tessa picked up his plate and redirected the conversation. “Come on, Paris. Let’s have breakfast. We have to get to work sometime today.”
“I need to head back to my place and get my gun and shower.”
She placed his dish down at the table. “We can take separate cars. I can meet you there.”
“Come with me,” he said, suddenly. He didn't want to spend a second without her.
“Uh, okay,” she stated. “If you want me to.”
“I do. Think of it as our first date.”
Tessa got little butterflies in her stomach. “Is that what we’re doing, Paris?” she asked, eating a piece of bacon while watching his face for any sign of a freak out. When there was none, she relaxed marginally.
“I do believe it is.”
* * *
The man was edgy and nervous. After killing all those women, and not having the next set to plan and plot, it was making him uneasy.
God, how he missed watching them bound and at his mercy. What would one more hurt, right?
He was actually jonesing for the next kill. He was missing the endorphin high and the sexual gratification.
But Christmas was over.
He needed to stop.
But he couldn’t.
Just one more …
The internal battle brewed all morning in his body and mind. What could it possibly hurt? In fact, he’d make it a challenge. He’d find ‘nice’ to stretch it out and fill his time.
She would be the greatest one yet.
The internal battle brewed as he sought to find someone so kind and sweet, that she would put the other ‘nice’ women to shame.
Yeah, he deserved it, even if he’d been naughty the last few months.
See, they would be perfect together.
* * *
When they arrived at Paris’s place, he raced up the stairs and allowed her free reign to look around. That was probably a very bad idea on his behalf. Who let their nosey FBI partner wander their private space?
You’d think he didn't know her at all.
Standing in front of the bookshelf, Tessa stared at the pictures there. They were of three people. She was assuming it was her partner’s parents and him as a child. Beside them sat tons of books, and when Tessa pulled one down, she flipped through it. On the back of the cover, there was a picture of the man who she believed to be his father.
Paris was the spitting image, and now she knew where he received his good looks.
“That’s my dad,” he said, walking into the room.
“You look just like him, just younger.”
Paris stared over her shoulder. “My mom tells me I’m his doppelgänger, when he was my age. Are you ready for work?” he asked, grinning. “I’m surprised you stopped at the bookshelves.”
Tessa laughed. “I do have some self-control.”
“You can explore later if you’d like. How about coming home with me tonight and we can have dinner together?”
She stared at him.
“I’m trying to woo the beautiful woman,” he said, grinning. “How am I doing?”
At first, she thought he was kidding, but then reality hit. He was dead serious. “Okay, lose the woo. Make it Chinese and you got yourself a deal.”
He moved closer. “Can I kiss you one last time until later?” he asked, his lips already so very close to hers.
“Yes,” Tessa whispered breathlessly as she anticipated what was to come.
As he brought his mouth to hers, his hand found the back of her head and anchored her to him, as he slowly enjoyed the kiss. It was warm and spoke of patience, even when he was feeling none.
Breaking away, she stared up at him. “That was some kiss, and I hope that I’ll be able to focus once we arrive at work.”
“I wonder what the policy is on making out in broom closets after we interview suspects?”
Tessa wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. “Uh, let’s not push our luck. Croft will kick both of our asses.”
“I’d take the chance,” he stated.
The look on her face said it all.
As soon as she turned, he grinned. Maybe, he didn't need a manual after all.
* * *
Once at the FBI building, they all met outside the lab. Greyson was leaning against the wall and furiously typing
something on his phone. Emma was flipping through her husband’s tablet and scanning data and both were lost in work.
“Sorry we’re late, Director,” stated Tessa, coming to a stop beside Emma.
When she offered no reason, both Emma and Greyson knew why. It was best that they pleaded ignorance.
“It’s okay. Let’s head into the lab. Max has the trace done on the car they swept at the impound lot. I’m hoping they have something for us.”
Entering the lab, they found it suspiciously empty.
“Max, did you find anything?” Croft asked, taking his customary seat, not far from where his wife was leaning against a counter.
“We did, Director. You’ll be happy to know that that car was a treasure chest of knowledge and information. We pulled it apart, and then checked every single spot on it.”
“Okay, what do you have?”
“The ME had found a trace of fibers on the dead man’s clothes. We ran them, and while they don’t match the one’s found on your wife, they do match the trunk of the Toyota.”
Emma thought about it. “So the killer used the dead man’s trunk to transport him?”
“Yes. I can tell you now that from the ME’s findings, Kristopher Karson was bludgeoned to death. The back of his head was crushed.”
Croft had already seen the ME’s report. “Go on.”
“The trunk had traces of blood. When we double checked it, it matched the victim.”
He wasn’t impressed. “Max, in your text you said you had really good news. I’m finding this lackluster and not really earth shattering. I could be interviewing some man on his sexual habits and that would be mildly more entertaining.”
The man wasn’t offended. He was well aware that Greyson Croft was tough to work for and he liked the challenge.
“The car was wiped down of all prints. The person who stole it, and used it to transport the body, cleaned up decently.”
Emma seriously hoped the man stopped screwing around. Her husband only had so much latitude for jackassery. “Max, that’s his unhappy face. If you want to live, tell him and stop the grandstanding.”
“I found one print. Apparently, the man who took the car needed to move the seat. He forgot to wipe the button that slid the seat back and forth. Not only that, but we have the prints in the system and also came across them before, so I doubt it’s a coincidence.”
Now he had his attention. “Who?”
“Torrance Burns.”
Emma gasped. “He’s an officer right outside my squad room.”
Croft was ready to kill. “His prints were also on your coffee cup the day we found you were missing. My lab staff assured me that it was because the cup was outside in the lobby, and that’s where he had contact with it.
Knowing he wasn’t happy, she walked over to him. “It’s okay, Grey,” she offered, taking his hand in hers.
“I went two steps further, boss, to make up for that error. I ran his DMV information. He has a white Honda, and it matches the years the carpeting was used that would match the trace on your wife.”
There was more anger.
“I also wanted to see how he connected to Kristopher Karson. He arrested him once before.”
Paris stepped in, seeing his boss was on the ledge. “What was the crime?”
“Peeping. He was the arresting officer that helped Jessica Lester get her PFA against him.”
“How does this all connect together?” inquired Tessa.
Emma glanced over at them. “You know how the first law of police work is to always doubt coincidences?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, here is the one in a million shot that our killer would take a woman who was tied to something so completely irrelevant,” Emma stated. “She had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and caught the serial killer’s attention. Then, the man who took me picked someone he never believed would draw attention and it did.”
“Bad luck for him, good for us,” stated Croft, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling Ford. This is in his house, and I’m going to be magnanimous and team up on this one.”
Soothingly, Emma ran her hand up and down her husband’s back. He was definitely on the edge.
On the third ring, Ford answered his phone. “Homicide.”
“It’s Croft. I have a little news for you. You’re the first to know and I hope you don’t let it leak until I get a search warrant to do the take down.”
“What do you have?”
Croft tucked his wife under his shoulder. “We have Emma’s kidnapper. I just need you to confirm something for me.”
He’d do what he could.
“It’s patrol officer Torrance Burns. Is he working today?” he questioned.
Ford thought about it. “I’d have to go out and ask the desk sergeant. I don’t remember seeing him.”
“Do it, but don’t make a big deal about it. If he’s in house, we don’t need him shooting up the place. I’ll hold.”
On the in-house phone, he called up to his secretary. “Linda, I need a warrant prepared. I’ll have Max email you the information. Get it signed for me as soon as possible.”
“Yes Director.”
Croft hung up the phone and switched back over to find the captain was back on the line.
“He’s scheduled off until January second,” Ford stated. “Are you going to his house?”
Croft had every intention of doing just that. “As soon as I have the warrant I’m going there. Do you want to join us?”
“Hell yeah I do!”
Croft thought about it. “Bring Either Mace Bristol or Brynn Westmore. They’re the only two I trust not to warn Torrance. You know how much your team loves me.”
“Done. Where do I meet you?” he asked.
He wasn’t taking any chances. “I’ll come to you. I’ll text you when we pull up. We’re going in with unmarked vehicles that he can’t spot in advance.”
“Croft, if he did this, I want him alive. I can’t have you playing FBI God and taking his life.”
He didn't answer at first. “I’m not going to kill him. I’m going to bring him in and beat a confession out of him. He’s a piss ant Ford, and I want the asshole that hired him. That’s my main goal. I want him alive too.”
Ford believed the man. “Text me when you’re ready.”
He walked to his door and looked out. Detective Westmore was sitting there. “Brynn! I need to see you,” he shouted across the room. Suddenly, he was excited. Ford was getting his wish. He was going out in the field.
Croft sat in his office chair, waiting for the warrant to come through. As soon as it did, he was taking his agents and heading to the man’s house. He’d told Ford that he needed him alive, and that was the God’s honest truth. What he didn't tell him was that when he got the information and the man tried to escape, he was going to die.
Was it wrong?
Yes, it was. It also overlapped so many lines that he had never believed that he would cross. Yet, here he was, and for the love of his wife, there’d be no boundaries.
At just that moment, she strolled into the office, a familiar look in her eyes. There was a battle brewing, and he could see it. It reminded him of the few times he’d managed to piss her off. Now, it was going to come to a boil here and now.
“Let me shut this conversation down right here before it starts,” Greyson said, putting some chill into his voice. He wasn’t going to even entertain what was going through her head.
“Excuse me?” she asked, shocked by his attitude. “I know you’re not talking to me that way, Grey.”
“That’s the ‘my wife isn’t risking her life’ tone. You came in here to try and convince me that you should be at my side when we go into that man’s home. It’s not happening. You’re staying here with Curtis and not leaving my office under any circumstance but fire and earthquake.”
Her temper was starting up. Generally, she’d concede to her husband and entertain his Neanderthal ways, but there was a limit,
and she was at the threshold.
“I’m going.”
“No, you’re not. I’m done arguing with you about it. I’ve lived through hell this past week, as I tried to figure out where I went wrong, how I could have been on my game, and what I can do to keep you from being taken again. This is it. You’re staying.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“I can do more than bet, Emma, I can guarantee.”
She took a stand. “If you try and stop me, you won’t like the outcome,” she warned, knowing she was going to start to break down at any moment.
The words stopped his heart. “Are you threatening to leave me if I don’t allow it? Are you going to stoop to that kind of emotional blackmail, Emma?”
She genuinely looked surprised. “Grey…”
“Would you, Emma? I need to know.”
Walking towards him, she took his face in the palms of her hands. “Greyson Croft, this is how far over the edge you are. I wouldn’t ever threaten you with that.”
“Then what did you mean?”
She looked into his eyes, as hers filled with tears. “If you don’t let me do this, I won’t have closure. I’ll relive it every night in my dreams until it screws with me, like it did with Gage. It will eat away at me, much like it is you. Please Greyson, if you know me at all, think about the effect that this will have on me, and us.”
He stared into her eyes, sensing nothing but truth. At that moment, he needed to allow her to heal, and in the process, she’d help him get over it too.
“Please, Grey,” she begged. “Help me forget those twelve hours of hell, of wondering if he touched me, or all the horrible things going through my head. Let me heal those fears that I’d never see you again, never kiss you, or make love to my husband anymore.”
He pulled her down into his lap. “Okay, Emma,” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek. “If you need this to forget, I’ll swallow my own fears for you.”
She knew he would. Greyson would always put her first in his life, and that meant everything to her.
“I love you,” she whispered, kissing the only man in the entire world that would have her heart. He was sweet, protective and always concerned with her well-being. As she deepened the kiss, his arms came around her body and held her tightly against him.
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 37