Croft shrugged. “We already checked you out.”
“What?” he looked more outraged, if that was possible.
Emma watched her boss finally sit down. “Greyson wasn’t kidding when he said that he ran you to make sure you’re clean.”
Again, his mouth hung open. “This is all a joke right?”
Both of them shook their heads. As if to prove his point, Greyson pulled out his phone and dialed a number. He handed it to Emma, and she placed it on the table.
On the third ring, it was answered by a familiar voice. “Greyson, how are you this evening?”
“Randall, we’ve had a busy day,” he said, signaling for Ford to say nothing. “We got called out to a cop’s house. It appears you were right. Someone in uniform was playing both sides of the game.”
“I’ve already heard that his name was Torrance Burns,” he offered. “The seedy underbelly is abuzz with the news. I assume that he’s the one who took Emma?”
She nuzzled his cheek, as he began to tense under her body. It wasn’t difficult to see that something had him completely stirred up and out of sorts.
“Yes, we found the proof that he’s the one. What else can you tell us about him?” he inquired, sipping his bourbon.
“I can tell you that whoever shut him up has gone under. You’re not going to find him easy now. I believe you police call it ‘tying up loose ends’?” he stated, “Is Emma there?”
“I’m here, Randall. How are you?”
“My dear, I am well. I’m glad they found the man who took you. May he rot in hell,” he spat.
“Amen,” muttered Croft.
Emma ran her hand over his cheek. “Can you keep listening for us, Randall, without putting yourself in danger? I’d hate to have anything happen to you.”
There would be guilt. Emma knew his life had been questionable, but still, she hated to see anyone wear a bull’s-eye, especially in this mess.
“I will for you, Emma. Is there anything else, my dear?”
Croft spoke up. “Randall, we need to find the money. Torrance Burns was paid to do this.”
“From what I hear, he was quite handsomely reimbursed.”
Yeah, and he took naked pictures of his wife to save for later too. He was lucky that he was dead, or Croft would have killed him for that alone.
“We can’t find it, Randall. Can you keep your ears open and get us an amount and his hidey-hole?” Emma asked, sweetly. “We need to stop whoever is behind this.”
“I’ll listen for you. I have a poker game this week, and you never know what will be tossed into the pot.”
“Don’t lose the shirt off your back,” she teased.
The man laughed uproariously. “I shall try. Good night Emma and Greyson,” he paused. “Oh, and you too, Captain Ford.”
With that, the phone call ended.
Both Emma and Greyson stared at each other.
“How did he know?” Ford asked.
She shook her head. “Why wouldn’t he? Everyone in this damn city is watching us it seems.”
Ford leaned back and closed his eyes. “I can’t believe one of my detectives is in bed with Randall Mason.”
Croft didn't like that terminology at all. In fact, in light of everything he’d learned today, it was close to putting him over the edge. “Oh well, that’s the least of your problems. Welcome to my world.”
“What are we going to do?” he asked, being cut off by the ringing of the phone on the table.
“It’s the commissioner, Grey,” she said softly, holding his phone for him.
“I’ll take it,” he hit speaker and prepared himself for the onslaught of questions. “Director Croft,” he said, sipping his bourbon to calm down.
“Greyson, my boy, how was your holiday?”
Emma cuddled into him, leaving little kisses across his cheek. When his body came alive under her, she knew that he’d spend some of that anger focused on her.
“It was good. How are you and Trudy?”
“We’re just fine. We were talking, and we didn't get to spend enough time with you at Randall’s party. Would you like to join us for dinner tomorrow?”
Croft wasn’t born yesterday. He wanted to pump him for information. “I think we’re free, but if anything turns up I’ll have to cancel.”
“It’s not a problem. I understand you were very busy today,” he stated, nonplussed. “We’ll catch up tomorrow. We look forward to seeing you and Emma.”
He didn't doubt that at all. Booker had ulterior motives.
“Goodnight,” Tom stated, hanging up.
“I don’t return his calls, and he tries to get around me,” stated Ford. “That doesn’t exactly make me happy.”
Emma was chewing on her bottom lip.
“Honey, what’s going on in that mind of yours?” Greyson questioned, running his hand up and down her bare leg possessively.
“We need to watch our backs. Who knows what he has planned. We don’t hear from the commissioner on a personal level for weeks, and then Torrance Burns dies, and he calls?”
“Yeah, he’s been laying low for the last month or so,” Greyson admitted.
“Maybe it’s because I didn't answer his call?” Ford offered, trying to be helpful.
Neither spoke. Tomorrow night was going to be very interesting to say the least.
* * *
They spread the map out on his dining room table, and added in anything they had to make it more likely they had something going on with the mail.
No matter how they skewed it, ran it or tried to make it work, it just didn't pan out.
The killer wasn’t finding his victims that way. There were six women and three different mail people.
It was a long shot, but at least they tried.
“Nothing,” Paris said, dropping the marker. “How about we eat, and then wrap this up? It’s been a long day,” he suggested, grabbing the containers of Chinese food for Tessa and himself.
“That works for me.” Tessa followed him to the couch, carrying their beers. “You have to have the neatest, most well organized place I’ve ever seen.”
He laughed. “I don’t do well in chaos.”
“I don’t know what it’s like to not be trapped in the bedlam. I live my life that way,” she admitted, taking the container from his hand.
They sat down and began eating.
Tessa could feel the tension in his whole demeanor, so she decided to break the mood by talking about light things. “Tell me what it was like growing up with mummies and dead bodies.”
He glanced over, grinning at the memories that flooded back to him. “Well, we travelled a lot, but it was pretty great. Sometimes, my mom would let me brush off pottery and other fragments she had unearthed. My dad was always off by himself, doing his thing. When he would start writing, he was absent for days at a time. He’d lock himself up and not talk to a living soul for hours straight.”
“That had to be tough to deal with as a kid,” she said, understanding. She’d been tossed on the roadside by her own mother. Tessa was no stranger to rough moments in life. She just got all hers at once.
“At first, as a small child yes, but my dad loved what he did, and it afforded the family the luxury we had. My mom was the reason we travelled and my dad was the reason we could have a nice home when we got back to the states and a decent college education for me.”
She had to object, “Paris, you went to an Ivy League school, so you got more than a ‘decent’ college education,” she added, laughing. “You’re an incredibly smart man.”
“And socially awkward,” he admitted. “I’m horrible with people. Look at how badly I hurt you.”
Tessa touched his arm, much like she always did to offer him a little calm. “You didn't screw up. I was just sensitive about it. It’s my one weakness and when people hit it, I lose it.”
He nodded. “So what’s a safe topic to talk about? I want to ask about your life, but I don’t want to hurt you,” he honestly sa
id, eating his lo mein.
Tessa thought about it. He already knew everything about her past, so why pretend that it wasn’t there in the room, staring at them. “You can ask me anything. I’ll tell you all of it if you want,” she offered, trusting him.
“I want to know everything, but not at the expense of your feelings.”
It touched her that he was being so sweet. “My biological uterus, as I call her, was young when she had me. She panicked and didn't know how to handle it. I wasn’t really on her list of things to do in life. So, she hid the pregnancy from her family and after giving birth, she tossed me along the side of the road.”
Those words cut at his heart. “I’m sorry, Tessa.”
“It’s okay,” she said, but it obviously wasn’t. “A really nice man was out walking his dog, and they found me. I kept in touch with him for years. He told me that on that day, he heard me crying, so he tucked me into his coat to keep me warm and ran all the way home.”
He watched her face.
“They took me to the hospital and I survived. I was adopted shortly after by a really nice couple. They couldn’t have kids, and they wanted me in the worst way.”
He smiled. “I bet they did. You have the most amazing eyes.”
Tessa returned the smile. “I’d tell you who I got them from if I knew,” she offered. “Unfortunately, I’ve never met the uterus or sperm donor.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“When she contacted me, I made sure that I burned the letter and moved as far away from Oklahoma as possible. I don’t ever want to meet her and hear her reason or rational. Sane people don’t do what she did, even when they’re scared. If you’re going to ditch a child, take it to a store, a hospital, or police station. Tossing it out the car window is not worthy of a meeting.”
“Where do your parents live now?” he asked.
She became silent.
Paris knew he screwed up again. “I just asked something horrible, didn't I?”
“My mom died a couple years ago. They were almost fifty when they adopted me, and my dad died three years before her. But, I had them for almost thirty years, and it was an amazing time. When you can’t have kids, and you’re given one, you cherish them so much more. I had a tree house and fifteen cats in a barn where I used to hide. It was a pretty awesome life.”
He touched her cheek, and then pulled his hand away. The last thing he wanted her to believe was he was just touching her for the sole purpose to get lucky or pity.
Tessa could tell he was just overthinking it again. Reaching over, she placed both of their takeout containers on the table to free up their hands. The look on his face was somewhere between confusion and misery. He didn't deserve to be afraid because they had a fight. Everything in her wanted to soothe his nerves.
He watched her cautiously, his body so stressed from the tension, that if she hit him, he’d shatter into little shards. All that Paris wanted was to have that first night together again, but he’d lost the right to ask for a redo. Thinking back to when he made up his mind to let her set the pace, he thought that he’d been an idiot, but it all appeared to be getting better. As she moved closer, Paris almost wanted to weep or pray.
Tessa straddled him and took off his glasses. Slowly, she brought her lips to his, taking control of the situation and giving Paris the opportunity to feel safe. As she deepened the kiss, he came alive beneath her. His hands held her to his body and his mouth answered the mating of lips.
“Tess,” he moaned, as she nibbled on his lower lip, driving him absolutely mad with want and need.
Slowly, she pulled away, staring deep into his baby blue eyes. “Can I stay over tonight?” she purred, asking him the same question he uttered the prior evening.
“Yes,” he answered without a single second of hesitation.
“I didn't bring any clothes,” she whispered in his ear.
This was like every nerd’s dream come true. There was a hot girl in his lap, and she wanted to sleep in his bad.
With him.
Yeah, he died and went to geek heaven.
“Sleep naked. I’ll keep you warm.”
* * *
Emma escorted her boss down in the elevator. She was surprised Greyson had allowed that option. He wasn’t big on letting her out of the condominium alone, but he must have figured she’d be safe with Captain Ford.
When she returned upstairs, she found him standing on the balcony, another glass of bourbon in his hands. Oh boy. He generally had a limit when he drank the stuff. It was one glass and that was it.
Now, he was having more, and she didn't think it was in celebration. Something was bothering him. Walking up behind him, she waited for him to sense her there.
“I saw the captain leave,” he stated, emotionlessly.
“What’s bothering you, Grey?”
He couldn’t control the anger that was finally oozing through all the cracks in his composure. “Nothing,” he lied, thinking about the photographs that Torrance Burns took of his wife. The fire burned hotter and threatened to bubble over and take them both under.
She didn't believe that for a second. Emma placed her hand on his back, and his whole body reacted.
“You should get as far away from me as possible,” he warned, trying to get her to escape what was coming. “I’m not myself tonight, Emma, and I’m lacking control.”
She didn't care. “I love you, Greyson.”
He heard the words, and they did little to push back the tidal wave that was coming. “Please, Emma. I don’t want to hurt you.” He’d rather die than do that, but he was trying to hold it all together.
She moved around to the front of him and slid between his arms that were braced on the railing. “Greyson, come to bed,” she whispered, tugging his shirt from his pants and running her hands along his flesh. “Let me help you forget,” she offered.
He closed his eyes. “Emma, I’m…” he didn't get to finish the words, as she pulled his mouth down to hers and sealed their lips together. It was cold against hot, it was fire against ice, and when she plunged her tongue into his mouth, there was as eruption in him.
The wildness broke free, as he yanked her roughly against his body and took everything he wanted. The startled little gasp only made him wilder and needier. Burying his hand in her hair, he pulled her head back. “I told you to go! Now is your last chance! Leave, Emma!”
She stared at him with unblinking eyes. “No, Greyson. I’m not going. I belong here with you.”
His body shook and he dropped the glass that was in his hand to force her mouth to his. The shatter was barely audible over the gasp from his woman. It was an incredible battle as his heart told him to be careful while his brain screamed ‘Take! Take’! He was at their mercy, as his wife allowed him to find solace in her body.
Pulling away, he stared at her.
“What’s chasing you, Greyson?” she whispered, and then gasped as he swept her up into his arms and stormed towards their room. The door slammed and the lock clicked shut behind them. Roughly, he released her, and she fell to the bed in a tumble of limbs and hair.
“I need to forget,” he muttered, stripping out of his clothes as quickly as possible.
Emma gasped as he was already hard and ready. She knew she was in for one hell of an interesting night.
Already, his breathing was labored as he fought not to hurt the woman lying on their bed. Reaching down, he violently ripped the pretty dress from her body. Her gasp of surprise enflamed him, making him even more out of control.
He stared down at her, lying there in just her bra and panties. It reminded him of the man who had photographed her and used her body to find his own sordid pleasure. The rage welled up even more.
This was his Emma.
Croft’s woman.
Her body.
Greyson’s wife.
The fury exploded, as he crushed her to the bed beneath him and began taking anything he wanted in the frenzy. His lips traveled across her sho
ulders and breasts before he became angered by the offending bra holding back his prize.
That too was torn from her, garnering another startled breath from Emma.
“Greyson,” she whispered, as his mouth went back to finding every inch of her.
Gone was all sanity as he began claiming what was his. These little kisses would be possessive marks on her flesh, reminding all that she was his.
His property.
Greyson’s heart and soul.
Moving down her body, he teased, bit and sucked on her nipples, causing her to arch into him. Yet it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. What he needed was his wife back and to take her and make her his once more. All his body wanted was to reclaim his stolen treasure.
Lower he slid, until the lacy panties blocked his goal. As he ripped them off, the rendering of material filled the room but didn't slow him down. Diving into her, he found the familiar feel and taste of his woman beneath his tongue.
With his mouth, he was most brutal, taking, devouring, and offering no mercy as she begged and pleaded. Her hands were buried in his hair as his mouth took her over and over again.
“Greyson!” she shouted, as the world went all different colors and she shattered apart.
There was pain and ecstasy wrapped together. Emma had never felt this way before with him. The man was on fire and demanding so much from her. She was sure that he wouldn’t stop until he was done proving the point that he was trying to make. Yet, there was no time to enjoy the pleasure, since he was taking more and offering no respite.
As Emma shook beneath his mouth, as he found just the right rhythm and spot to make her scream his name. That’s all he wanted in that moment. He wanted it so damn bad that it ate away at him, little by little, driving the sanity even further out of reach.
What he wanted was to hear her breathy little gasps as she begged him. When she shattered apart again, he climbed up her body, taking his place between her legs.
“You’re mine Emma, and don’t ever forget it,” he ordered, taking her hands and holding them above her head as he prepared to sink into her. “Say it!” he demanded.
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 41