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 43

by Morgan Kelley


  People hid the most fascinating things there. Maybe that was the wrong word for it. Bizarre was better.

  Once in his room, they noticed it was stark. There were no pictures or embellishments.

  “There are two bed stands. You want left or right?” she asked.

  “I’ll take the one closest to the door,” he said, strolling over and pulling it open. “It’s a bible.”

  Emma would like to say she was shocked, but he was a man of God. “Okay, maybe I got the ‘get lucky’ drawer,” she said, pulling it open to find nothing. “No sex toys, no porn, nothing.”

  Croft shrugged. “You don’t need toys to get off. It’s really just a one handed contact sport.”

  Emma glanced up at his reference and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

  “Or so I hear,” he added, quickly. “Curtis told me.”

  She shook her head and lifted the mattress to look underneath. “I’m sorry, but no man in his sexual prime gives up sex. Thomas Corey is thirty-three. That’s still pretty close to being in the ‘horny years’,” she stated.

  It was his turn to stare. “What years would they be, exactly? I’m thinking you better include forty one, because since marrying you, I’m there.”

  She scanned the room. “You’re horny because you have a younger wife that happens to like sex, with her caveman, a great deal.”

  “Hallelujah!” he shouted, spontaneously.

  Emma rolled her eyes.

  “What? With all the statues of Jesus and Mary, it seemed appropriate. When in a reverend’s house, do as he would do.”

  Deciding to ignore him, since he was all riled up and in a silly mood, she sat on the end of the bed. “Okay, so you’re thirty three and not married. Would you be able to service your needs in this room?”

  Croft looked around before answering, “No, there are,” he paused to count, “eight crucifixes and three statues of Mary. I’d be too weirded out. Who jacks off in front of Jesus? That’s just wrong.”

  Thank God, that no one heard half the conversations that they had while working. People would either think they were criminally insane or desperately trying to be borderline offensive.

  Emma wandered into the bathroom. “There’s a cross in here too. I guess that rules out this room. It’s like he’s placing them strategically to not have any interest in sex.”

  Croft opened the medicine cabinet. “No creams or pills. This place is sterile just like the owner. It’s like the land that sex forgot.”

  “Does that fit for you?”

  “Being a man, hell no, and as a law enforcement officer, it screams suspicious.”

  “Yeah, it sounds like something that a man who ties up women and carves naughty into them would do.”

  He was with her on that. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Tessa was down on her knees and staring up at her partner.

  “There’s nothing under the desk,” she stated, reaching up for a hand.

  Paris was having a really hard time focusing. What he wanted to do was kiss her. It was completely unprofessional, but when he was forced to watch her butt wiggling from under the desk, he flashed back to sex that night before and his mind and hormones went there.

  Sue him. He was a man in a new relationship with a really hot woman.

  Pulling her up, it was possible that he yanked a little too hard on purpose, causing her to fall into his body. He easily caught her, his hands going to her hips.

  “Oops, sorry,” she stated, leaning against him.

  Paris stared down at her lips. “It’s really hard working with you and not touching you,” he admitted.

  She laughed. “We’re in a church and you want to make out?”

  “Can we?” he teased, letting her go. His body was heating up, and he needed to focus as reality reared its head. This was the problem with working with a person you were having really incredible, Earth moving sex with nightly. “Besides, I don’t believe in organized religion,” he stated. “It feels fake and was created to terrorize and make people fear doing anything wrong.”

  “I do,” Tessa admitted, disagreeing with him completely. “The day that man found me, he saved me. I like to believe it was divine intervention. There has to be something out there driving us all.”

  He shrugged. “I like to believe you’re here with me now because of fate. This is right where you should be. Everything in our lives led to us being together.”

  Tessa stared at him, wondering if he understood what was being implied by his words. It was a pretty huge declaration from the man.

  “Paris…” she paused.

  “Yes Tess?”

  She didn't even know what to say. “Never mind.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  When they were in route to Principal Harvey Lee’s residence, he received a call from his other two agents out in the field. They too, came up with nothing at the church. There wasn’t so much as a cigarette butt to be found.

  The place was immaculate, much like the Virgin Mary. To say that he was frustrated would be an understatement.

  “Why don’t you both head to holding and interview the man again. This time, don’t let him clock you, Tessa,” he stated, hanging up the phone.

  “Nothing, huh?”

  He laughed. “We are batting a big fat zero on this all around.”

  “Well, the good news is, we get to interview a man who was paying for sex with a woman who liked to play dominatrix.”

  Croft thought about it. “I don’t think I could do that,” he stated honestly.

  “Which part? The tied up and me climbing all over you in head to toe leather as you call me Mistress or paying for sex?” she teased. God, she loved riling her serious husband up.

  “Okay, since you put it that way.” Finally, he grinned lecherously.

  Emma laughed. “It’s about control. I’m willing to bet that Harvey Lee has a sex life at home with his wife where he’s always the aggressive one. He might like kicking back and letting someone drive the interlude for a while.”

  Croft pondered it. “What about our sex life?” he asked, glancing over at her. “Are you happy with it? I mean, minus last night’s appearance of my evil twin brother,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood. He was still worried that he had hurt her.

  “I happen to like our sex life and your evil twin can visit any time. Hey, if you both show up at the same time, is that a threesome?”

  He stared at her openmouthed and was unsure what to say to her comment. ‘Over his dead body’ came to mind, only there was profanity involved too.

  Emma decided to clarify. “As I’ve stated before, if you want to bring some fun things into the bedroom, I’ll play dress up with you.”

  He was appreciative that his wife liked their physical relationship and wasn’t afraid to try new things out. “What I mean is, am I too aggressive for you?”

  Emma laughed. “I love what happens when we come together. I’m laid back and when you take control, I can just enjoy and feel. The question seems to be, are you happy with it?”

  Now, it was his turn to chuckle. “I love having a sexy little vixen at my every whim. I know that sounds chauvinistic, but when I know I can have my way with my wife, it gets me hot and bothered. When men watch you sitting in my lap, that turns me on too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re all mine,” he replied. “You’re my sexy lap kitten, and I never have to share. It’s a man thing. We like that other guys appreciate what we have, but they can’t get too close,” he paused, “which is why that threesome thing isn’t ever going to happen in this lifetime.”

  Emma leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I don’t need another man, but I’ll curl up in your lap and purr in your ear later if you pet me.”

  Croft swallowed, as his body responded. “See? I love my sex life.”

  Emma pointed. “Oh good, he’s home,” she stated, pointing at the man carrying trash to the curb. Pulling up beside him, they hopped out.<
br />
  “Oh, hey! Is there any word on Mary Lou’s killer?”

  “We’re still working on that,” stated Croft, moving closer to his wife.

  Emma took point on this one, since the man liked being some woman’s play thing, he was about to be hers. “So, how long were you letting Mary Lou tie you up and spank you?”

  It achieved what she wanted.

  He stared at her, his mouth agape like that of a gasping fish that was fighting for breath.

  “Before you say anything, I want to tell you that we found pictures from her little make shift dungeon. You were in them,” she bluffed, hoping he wouldn’t know if he was or wasn’t in a photo.

  “I…”

  “So were you paying her to get hurt, or was she doing it for free?” Emma asked.

  He swallowed, unsure what to say. “I can explain.”

  Emma didn't really care. “I can’t wait to hear this,” she stated. “You’ve been a naughty boy, Harvey, and ironically that’s what our killer’s been carving into his victims. Now, you can feel free to explain, since you know where we’re going with this.”

  “I didn't kill her,” he lowered his voice. “Listen, since my wife has had our kids, she doesn’t like sex, and I mean nothing. To get her to give a blowjob is like asking her to swim to England with concrete blocks on her ankles. I have needs, and she isn’t into it anymore.”

  “Again, I’ll ask. Were you paying for sex with Mary Lou Harwell?”

  “Yes, I paid her.”

  Croft pulled out his phone and dialed Curtis. When he answered, he gave him his instructions. “Start running financials on everyone in this mess. You better include the suspects, since ‘nice’ Mary Lou Harwell was turning tricks as a paid dominatrix.”

  “Got it,” he said, hanging up.

  Harvey Lee looked scared. “It was harmless fun. I’d go over and she’d tie me up and use me. What man doesn’t want a woman who has no boundaries? I live with a woman who doesn’t have time to take care of my needs.”

  “How long were you using her services?” Emma continued, watching as her husband took notes. He was letting her drive this one, and she was glad. The man was a cheating asshole, and she wanted to break him for women everywhere.

  “It’s only been a few months. We were at work one day, and she told me that I looked frustrated. I made a joke, she made one back, and that night I found out she had a fetish for leather and giving head. I was sold and intrigued.”

  Emma was getting irritated. “Did she have other clients?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Greyson was wondering if he should step in and try to help his wife out.

  Before he could, Emma continued, “Wow. My bullshit detector is going off big time,” she paused. “Okay, I’ll just go ask your wife. We women generally suspect when our men are cheating. I only hope you don’t mind a messy divorce, killer alimony, and child support.”

  “Okay, she was. It was her side business.”

  Croft finally stepped in. “Who else was she seeing?”

  “I really don’t know. All I can tell you is that one day after she finished with me, she asked for a ride to Eighth Avenue up the street. It was raining and she did just get me off. I was being a gentleman and thanking her for the spectacular sex.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re something all right,” Emma said, crossing her arms. “Where did you drop her?”

  He hesitated. “It was really hot sex,” he restated.

  Croft shook his head. “I’m having really hot sex too, but with my wife. You should try romance. I’ve found it works wonders, and I don’t have to pay her either.”

  “That and not dicking around with a dominatrix helps,” added Emma. “Now spill it, or I’m going to your door and telling her.”

  “I don’t remember the name. It’s some church. God’s something or other.”

  That had their full attention.

  “She had a client there?”

  “Yeah, it was after hours, and I asked her how she was getting home, and she told me the man in charge would drop her off.”

  Croft whipped out a text to his agent. They now had something to push with in interview.

  “Can I go back inside?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yeah, go forth and try to keep your dick in your pants,” stated Emma.

  “You’re not going to tell my wife are you?”

  Croft smiled wickedly. “No, because you have until tomorrow morning to tell her yourself before we come back to take you down for DNA testing. By then, she’ll figure it out, or the media will get wind of it, and she’ll see it all over the news.”

  The man looked sick at his options.

  They hopped back into the Denali.

  “Why are we going to test his DNA? We don’t have anything to compare it to,” she asked.

  “We’re not, but he doesn’t know that.”

  Emma began laughing. “Come here, Mr. Croft. For that you get to make out in another company car,” she said, kissing him like she was trying to devour him whole.

  When he pulled back, his eyes were cloudy and his body was ready to have her climb all over him. “That was a pretty amazing kiss,” he said, grinning. When he licked his bottom lip, he could taste his wife and it made him even crazier.

  “That was my happy kiss. I’m pleased that we have something to use on the reverend and I’m really glad that my husband was appalled that Harvey Lee was dipping his stick in a dominatrix.”

  He started the Denali. “I think we’ve connected almost all of them to the church,” he stated.

  Emma started outlining it for him. “We have our first victim, Jessica Lester. She was giving dance lessons at the church for the kids at the shelter.”

  “Correct. The reverend had access to her there.”

  “Then there’s the second woman, Trish Lorn. She was turning tricks, and when Trish got busted she had to do community service at the shelter on Eighth Avenue, and that’s diagonal to the church.”

  “That would connect number two. He could have picked her up there.”

  Emma continued, “Victim number three was Mary Lou Harwell, and we know she was spanking the church man in his office late at night.”

  “Spanking huh? Want to try it out?” Croft teased.

  “Are you doing it to me or me to you?”

  He ran his fingers down her leg. “Oh, you’ll be the one over my knee, Emma my sweet.”

  She was woman enough to admit that the car suddenly got hot.

  “Okay, back to dead women,” she floundered, trying to refocus.

  Croft laughed and enjoyed the fact that his wife was all flustered. It wasn’t surprising in the least. He loved to tease her.

  “We also have Tania Swan, and she was found with a flyer in her bible. That piece of paper means someone from that church had contact with her.”

  “That’s one more.”

  “The next one’s easy,” Emma stated. “She was the organist for the church. Reverend Corey had access to her on a daily basis.”

  “There’s only one left,” Croft stated, as his wife checked them off on her fingers.

  “Julia Montgomery is the homeless pickpocket. She worked the area around the church and could have been grabbed by him too.”

  “You covered them all.”

  “He had opportunity to do these killings,” Emma stated. “We have a man with a sterile home that doesn’t let on that he’s having sex, and then we find out that he’s into really rough bondage. That just screams aggressive tendencies.”

  “Yeah, now we just need proof of all that. If the agents can’t get a confession from him, he walks today right after the interview.”

  Emma sighed. “Great.”

  “Have faith, kitten, or daddy will have to spank you.”

  She started laughing, right before punching him hard in the arm.

  “Which part offended you?” he asked, grinning wickedly. “I need to know for next time.”

  “Babe, just drive.”


  * * *

  Agents Tessa Brass and Paris Archer sat patiently across from the man they were preparing to interview. So far, he was being anything but cooperative.

  In fact, he looked like he was ready to attack. His face was bright red and his fists were clenched.

  When Tessa’s phone beeped, she scanned it and passed it to her partner to read.

  Yeah, it was show time.

  “So, Mr. Corey, we did a search of your home and found some interesting things,” she began.

  “You didn't find anything in my place, since there’s nothing to find,” he stated confidently.

  This wasn’t Tessa’s first trip down this road. She generally handled the interviews, with Paris being her eyes. He’d analyze what the suspect would say and give her hints.

  “Yeah, come to think of it, you’re right. But you see, Mr. Corey, that’s the problem.”

  He looked at her like she was crazy.

  “How old are you, sir?” she asked.

  “I’m thirty three.”

  Tessa glanced over at Paris. “You’re about that age too, right, Agent Archer?”

  “Give or take a year,” he replied.

  “Men your age have things in their bedroom or medicine cabinets.”

  The suspect looked confused.

  Paris got her direction and followed her lead. “Yeah, well, when I have a woman over, I like to be prepared. You know, condoms, lubes, and my handcuffs. I always have them on me.” He hoped he was convincing enough, since his place was probably as empty as Reverend Cory’s, until Tessa. Now, he wanted to fill it with all kinds of things.

  “Yeah, but you know what we found at the God man’s house?” she inquired.

  “What?” Paris asked, playing along.

  “Nothing,” she stated, and then paused before continuing, “but all these religious statues in his bedroom. They were all pointed at the bed too, like they were watching him.”

  Reverend Corey crossed his arms in hostility. “It’s not against the law to love God and have statues, Agents.”

  Paris thought about it. “You’re right, it’s not, but it says a great deal to me.”

 

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