The man stared at him.
“You see, we have a man killing women and judging them ‘naughty or nice’, and then we wander into a man’s bedroom and find it suspiciously free of sex. It makes me wonder why.”
Reverend Corey shrugged nonchalantly.
“Yeah, it’s almost like you want to keep your bedroom clean and sacred. Why is that, Mr. Corey?”
Again, he gave them nothing.
“I think he can’t get off in his bedroom with all the statues watching,” Tessa added. “Are you having a hard time getting it up, Mr. Corey?”
Paris watched the man and saw the anger and embarrassment. It was all there, and they only needed to keep digging to find the truth. “What are you punishing yourself for?” It was a long shot, but it might work.
The man said nothing.
“Know what else I find funny, Agent Archer?” Tessa set it all up. “His office was clean too, but we never ran a black light over it. I think maybe we should go back and try that. I’m betting that’s the place he goes to get off.”
He began to look nervous.
Bingo!
“Yeah, I’m betting he’s sitting back in his office and all the sudden he gets in the mood.”
Paris agreed. “There weren’t any statues in there, only lots and lots of books. It felt more welcoming than his own bedroom.”
“Are you having sex in your office, Mr. Corey?”
The man was teetering precariously on the edge, and they could both see it.
“If I am, what does it matter to you?”
Tessa shrugged. “Oh, I don’t care if you’re sitting up in there playing with your tool all day, Reverend. What you do in the privacy of your office is your business, right partner?” she asked, letting him drop the bomb, since he was the shrink-y one of the two of them.
“Well, unless he’s paying for sex. Then that’s our business,” he began. “You know with a dominatrix that just happens to be one of our dead women.”
The man’s composure broke, and in its place was a look of nervousness and fear.
“Oh, that would make you very naughty, wouldn’t it, Mr. Corey,” Tessa said.
He said nothing.
“I just find it odd that you have a perfectly secluded room at home, and yet you use work. Hmmmmm. I wonder why.” Tess focused on her partner. “Where do you like to have sex, Agent Archer?” she asked.
Oh, she was well aware of the answer and was fighting hard not to show any outward signs.
Agent Archer kept a straight face. “I’m big on using my bed. It’s comfortable and right afterwards, my girlfriend and I can get some sleep.”
The fact that he called her something so permanent made her heart skip in her chest. “I personally like the couch. My boyfriend tends to be like you, but the couch is centrally located and you have excellent leverage for all kinds of things.”
Paris was getting warmer by the second, since she had already shown him what she liked about his couch--a few times.
Tessa slipped him the picture of the first victim. “Did you bring her to your office and try to have sex with her?”
He shook his head.
“How about this one,” she asked, flipping to her picture.
This went on for a few minutes. The man was slowly crumbling. When he was shown Mary Lou Harwell’s picture his eyes gave him a way.
“You like leather and being hurt. What sins are you paying for?” Paris asked, trying to get to the root of it all. “What did you do in your past that made you need a dominatrix to get off?”
Tessa let her partner run with it. This was his area of expertise. Getting into the man’s mind was something that he needed to do to help them break it open.
What they needed was for him to confess, and not to just having sex with the victim, but his ties to everyone else.
“You can tell us, Mr. Corey. Why did you need her to dress up, strip you down, and demoralize you? What were you hiding, Reverend?”
Tessa watched her partner work. He was digging down beneath the surface.
“You needed the sex to hurt, but why, Mr. Corey? Did she threaten to tell everyone your secret?”
“No,” he finally said.
“What then? Help us understand why you used a dominatrix to get off.”
Finally, he broke down and began to weep. “It’s all because of my brother.”
Paris handed him a tissue. Now, it was time to get the answers that they needed.
It was now or set him free.
* * *
Curtis sat behind his boss’s desk at the FBI building as he handled all the financials for the dead women and their suspects. His least favorite thing was to be running all the searches, but he knew that he was good at it. He could quickly type and knew all the programs to use.
When there was a knock at the door, he glanced up, only to find Brynn standing there. He didn't know what to say to her. If anything, being around her was still quite uncomfortable.
When you saw someone naked, you lost that ability to be aloof. “Come in.”
“I was just getting off from work, and I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?” she asked, hating that she had to do this.
“I can spare a few moments.”
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Do you want to go get some coffee?”
Briggs stood and pushed in his chair. “The cafeteria is still open. Let’s go.”
Walking downstairs was painfully emotional. Standing beside her, reminded him of the beginning of their relationship, and Curtis wanted to hold her hand, smile at her, and have that togetherness back once again.
He missed the connection.
She was the first woman he really ever loved, and now it was hard to see her again. Curtis knew that he needed to get past this, since Brynn was Emma’s partner. They were going to see each other almost daily. Their paths were destined to cross over and over.
Once downstairs, they both made a cup of coffee, and he led them to the most secluded table in case it turned into a screaming match. It was later in the day, but there were still agents milling around and he wanted privacy.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said suddenly. “I didn't do it intentionally, and I know now that I approached this all wrong.”
Curtis let her get it all out.
“I’m very goal oriented. I have a plan in life and you threw me off balance.”
“Because I’m not in your plan?” he asked, as his feelings hurt even more that he had to say those words out loud to her.
You would think that she would get it.
“No one’s in my plan, Curtis. I want to get my Captain bars and get off the street, like Ford. I’m not a great detective. Emma does it with ease and has that gut instinct. She can just sense things. I’m decent at my job, but being a captain, that I could excel at. I’m good with paperwork, I micromanage everything, and I could still do the job I love, without being neck deep in death every day. If I stay in this position, I’ll never be lead detective like Emma. I’ll burn out and fade away.”
Curtis understood. “I get that Brynn, but you’re entitled to have a life, and I’m not saying this to convince you that we belong together. I’m telling you that, as a man who was once your friend. I care about you, and that’s not going to change. You’re smart, funny and a good person. I want the best for you, and I know it’s not me. I’m not looking for the same thing in life that you are, but I wish I still had you as my friend. I miss you, Brynn. I miss us.”
She stared at him with her eyes full of tears. “I miss you too. I don’t want you to think I didn't love every second of being with you, and appreciate how you took care of me when I was hurt. You’re an amazing man, Curtis, but we just don’t fit together as a couple.”
He knew that she was right. “I’ve wanted to text you the last few days,” he said, honestly. “Just to talk to you and find out if you were okay.”
Brynn admitted the same thing. “I want our friendship back. I kn
ow that they say two people who sleep together can never just be friends, but I don’t believe that. I want my friend back.”
Curtis smiled, a little of the pain in his chest dissipating, at her words. “I want that too, Brynn.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his.
“I’m not saying we won’t get another shot, Curtis. Love can grow anywhere, but for now, I’m not ready.”
“If it happens, Brynn, it happens. Fate sets us on the path, and it’s up to us to find the way,” he stated, firmly believing that.
She squeezed his fingers tightly. “We moved too fast.”
“Yeah, we did,” he said, laughing. “We tried to be Emma and Greyson, and that was a one shot deal that’ll never repeat.”
Brynn sniffed. “Want some help with your data?” she offered, wanting that connection back.
“It’s tedious and boring as hell.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t mind. At least we’ll be together.”
Curtis stood and dropped his arm over her shoulder as he kissed her chastely on the forehead. “You’ve got a point. Maybe, we can even get dinner?” he asked hopefully.
“I could eat some pizza.”
“Yeah, I missed you Brynn.”
She laughed. “Me too.”
* * *
Archer and Brass walked out of the building frustrated. They’d worked the man as hard as they possibly could. They hit him with everything they had and still nothing popped.
He wouldn’t admit to knowing any of the women other than Melody Rafferty and Mary Lou Harwell. No matter how shrink-y Paris went on him, they got nothing from him.
“Croft is going to go nuts on this one,” Tessa admitted, knowing they were going to have to explain to their boss how they had to release their only suspect because they couldn’t break him.
“We tried, Tess. He just wasn’t going to give us anything else. I’ll call the boss and tell him the bad news.”
She sighed. “Okay, Paris.”
Once inside the Denali, she glanced over at him. “My place or yours?” she asked, needing some downtime to think. Her head was a jumbled mess.
“Let’s swing by my place, and then stay at yours tonight, unless you’re in the mood to grocery shop.”
“Yeah, I’m not.”
“Then your place it is.”
Before she pulled out, they watched the reverend walking out of the building. He was getting into a cab.
“We’ll figure it out Tess. We need to regroup and find our focus before we attack it again.”
Yeah, he was right, but it wouldn’t hurt to pray for a miracle too while they were at it.
* * *
He had just gotten back to work, and the edginess was there. Not having a woman to take was making him crazy. He knew who he wanted, but he’d been unable to get to her. Now, he was watching her once more and hoped to get her alone to steal her away.
She was always so busy, helping, caring, and being an angel.
He became excited, as she was walking towards her car.
It was now or never.
Calling after her, he jogged over, knowing that she would recognize him and welcome him.
They shared a lot in common.
The angel turned at the sound of his voice, and welcomed him. “Hello there!”
“I have a donation for you. Would you like to come and get it?”
She absolutely would. Any help in these tough times was appreciated. “Sure, where is it?”
“Oh, it’s in my car.”
Following after him, they had pleasant chit chat. It was just her nature. The woman was sweet and good with people.
“It’s over here,” he said, pointing.
“Oh, okay.”
Opening the trunk, she waited and stared in, confused when she found it empty. “I don’t understand. There’s nothing in here for me.”
He grabbed her and crushed her throat with his arm as she fought against him. Just looking down at her flailing and fighting in her formal dress turned him on. He could feel the lust taking over at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to keep her pure.
He wanted her in the worst possible way.
If he didn't have her, he couldn’t say what he’d do. Maybe taking a ‘nice’ was a bad idea. If he took a ‘naughty’, he could have her over and over again, until the need was fulfilled.
When she stopped fighting, he lifted her into the trunk and went to work taping her mouth and binding her hands.
Now, he needed to get her home, but first he’d make an excuse to the people who saw him every day. There were things to take care of, and he couldn’t wait to get her home, strip her down and just admire what no other man had ever seen before.
Tonight, he’d be ‘naughty’, while she was his ‘nice’.
* * *
When Croft got the news of his release, he wanted to be pissed, but he had faith in his people. If they said they tried, they did their best. There was nothing that they could do to force a man to confess.
For the time being, they would have to regroup, and figure it out. They had to be missing something. Tomorrow, they’d stare at it with fresh eyes and break it all down.
They’d find it. He refused to let this become a cold case, buried in their files forever. Croft wasn’t going to let the killer come back next year for a repeat performance.
It just wasn’t happening.
He was lost in thought, as his wife came out of the closet.
“Greyson, did you hear me?” she asked, staring at him.
“I’m sorry, honey. I was on the phone with Paris,” he said, turning. “Wow, you look lovely.”
Emma decided on a simple wrap dress in black, and the handcuff necklace they’d gotten back from the kidnapper. “I didn't want to deal with Trudy telling me I’m outdated, so I decided to go with a normal dress.”
“You make normal extraordinary.”
She giggled. “Well, Mr. Croft, you happen to look downright sexy yourself,” she stated, running her hands up the white dress shirt to his neck.
Whenever his wife was clinging to his body, he was a very happy man. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he picked her up while they kissed, so that her toes barely touched the ground.
As his body roared to life, his wife giggled and broke away. “You better put me down,” she suggested. “You’ll get all crazy and want to roll around naked, and then we’ll be late.”
“I don’t care if we skip it to play ‘director and secretary with very loose morals’, all evening long.”
She snickered as he lowered her to the ground. “Maybe that can happen when we get home, if you’re a good boy.”
“Oh, Mrs. Croft, I can be a very, very good boy when I need to be.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“I can also be very bad,” he whispered.
Emma simply laughed, because she was well aware. “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t know, Greyson.”
“Talk is cheap. I like being a man of action.”
On the way to Commissioner Tom Booker’s place, they discussed having to let Reverend Thomas Corey free. Emma wasn’t happy either, but it was the way the justice system worked. You had them completely or you cut them loose. There wasn’t any middle ground when it came to the rights of the accused.
Now, they would have to start all over again. All the evidence just seemed so damning. Everything pointed right at one man.
It would take time, and fortunately, that was on their side. Since Christmas was over, they could work this until it was solved.
“We need to close this soon,” Emma said, holding her husband’s hand. “I have to return to work.”
His body went completely rigid. Having her go back out by herself made him a nervous wreck. Would the person out to get him in their pocket make another attempt at her?
If that had been his warning, what would happen next?
What if they took it further, maiming her or worse yet, taking Emma’s life?
/> “I want you to take a leave of absence until we handle the entire situation and shut it down.”
Emma stared at him. “Grey, you know I can’t do that. I have a job and responsibilities too.”
“Damn it, Emma!” he snapped, losing his temper. This was the one thing that would do it every time. Emma in danger was his trigger, especially now.
“Grey,” she said, ignoring his outburst. “This is exactly what they want. It makes them happy to know that you’re scared, off balance, and worried. I’ll be fine, but you need to not let them see this throw you off like this.”
“I know.”
“Please, don’t let them divide us.”
Croft took a deep breath. “You’re going to need to take precautions,” he said, not even kidding. “Keep Curtis with you.”
She stared at him. “You’re going to give me a full time FBI watchdog?”
He shrugged. “Think of it as training a newbie. Gabe Rothschild wanted me to teach him the ropes of being an agent. What you do is pretty much the same thing. You detect, solve and find killers. What’s the difference if he’s with me or you?”
He was skating a very thin line with his rationale, but Emma knew he needed this and was willing to take one for their marriage. “Okay Greyson.”
Croft actually glanced over. “Really? It was that easy? I must be getting better at this.”
Emma started laughing as he pulled into the driveway. “You suck at it. I just happen to love you so much that I hate to see you look bad when you make a mess of it.”
“Ahhhh, so it was mercy acceptance. Well, newsflash. I’m not too proud to take it and run with it.”
“It’s my job as your wife.”
Croft leaned over and forcefully took her mouth with his, before they prepared to walk into the den of lies. He didn't want her there, but they were playing the game.
When she pulled away, her eyes were filled with laughter. “That was some kiss, Greyson.”
He grinned wickedly. “Stay by my side the entire time.”
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 44