He didn’t answer him.
“Did you touch the girl. If you lie, I’m going to drag you outside and tell the media you like children,” he hissed in the man’s ear.
“Okay! Chill! I don’t do kids. I swore she just looked young. Her pimp said she was eighteen! It was one blowjob. What did it hurt?”
Emma wanted to show him what it would hurt by ripping his dick off for touching a kid. Only, she let Chris handle this. He was doing better than she was. Clearly, the man didn’t fear her.
Asshole.
“Did you hear her pimp say anything?” Chris asked.
He thought about it. “Nope.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive.”
Chris pulled a hundred out of his pocket. “This will buy you two more blow jobs from the disease of your choice.”
He shrugged. “I can’t tell you anything. Sorry. Now, if you’re done harassing me, I have a job to do.”
The man walked away.
“Well, that wasn’t helpful,” Emma said. “What next?” she asked.
“We should probably talk to some strippers.”
Yeah, she was aware.
“Want to split up?” she asked.
“Not particularly. I feel like my junk is going to be felt up, and I prefer it to be by you not them.”
She snorted. “You wish, my friend. You wish.”
He pointed. “There’s a guy cleaning up and he is desperately trying not to look at us. He reminds me of report day at the precinct when my detectives would try and hide so they didn’t have to give me a report.”
“Come on! I did it once.”
He grinned. “Let’s start there.”
They crossed the club, and Chris had been right. He’d had his junk grabbed more times than should be allowed. By the time they caught the man, he was trying to hide back by the bathrooms.
“Stop,” Chris said, grabbing the skinny guy by the arm. “Where are you going?”
“I have bathrooms to clean.”
Emma held up a one-hundred-dollar bill. “If you can tell me about this girl and everything you know in the next five minutes, it’s yours.”
“Are you serious?”
“Name.”
“Tony Chesterfield.”
“Do you work here full time?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, I do.”
Emma was still holding the picture.
“That’s Chastity, but I liked her real name better,” he said, not looking directly at Emma.
“And you knew it?”
“Julie. She was a sweet girl.”
“I hear she was being used up for free by her pimp.”
He looked sad.
“He said he was training her. I wanted to take her home and fix her. She was broken really bad.”
It was clear that this guy had some developmental issues. He had a weird facial tick, and he was struggling with his speech.
“Did you hear her pimp say anything?” Emma asked.
“Yeah, he ran his mouth a lot. He was mean to Julie. He hit her a lot and he was cruel.”
Emma was glad Gerald had died a painful, or she hoped painful, death.
“Anything else he said that you might have found to be weird?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, he said something about a training stable, but Julie told me she didn’t like horses.”
They both knew what the pimp was talking about. He was referring to a place pimps took their girls to get them prepped for the streets. He’d want to make sure Julie was so beaten down that she couldn’t say no.
He was an asshole.
“Where, Tony?” Chris asked.
He tried to think about it.
“I think he said Vine.”
“That’s a big street.”
He was getting fidgety. “I needed a place to live, and he told me about a place he rented.”
“Okay, what did he tell you?”
“That he had a place on Vine in the basement, and there were a few units not being used by hookers.”
They listened.
“I think it was close to where Julie lived. He would bring her to work every day. She was like a prisoner to him.”
Well, that gave them something.
“Have you ever heard of someone by the name of Anthony Delmarco?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, but I’m bad with names. I only went to school until fifth grade. You can ask Rosemary. She’s really nice to me. She keeps me working here.”
Yeah, Rosemary seemed like a real gem.
“Did I do okay?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, here,” she said, handing him the money.
“I’ll give it to one of the girls. If they don’t make their tips, they can’t feed their kids.”
He hustled away.
“Well, that was something,” Chris said.
Yeah, she was thinking the same thing.
“Let’s get out of here. I’m starting to feel sick.”
He looked concerned. “The baby?”
“Yeah, and the stench of old booze. It’s nasty,” she said, linking her arm through his.
Chris led her outside and into the fresh air. Once there, she leaned against the building.
Emma took a breath of deep air.
“You okay?”
“I hate men.”
He laughed. “Well, you got a huge problem. You’re surrounded by them.”
“I think I’m having one.”
He smiled. “I heard. Greyson mentioned. I can’t wait to see you hold your child. You’re going to be a good mom.”
“How do you know?” she asked, rubbing her stomach. She worried she’d screw this up and get a kid who ended up working in a strip club.
Then again, she may get a mobster out of it too.
It was all about the perspective.
“I know you will because you nearly bitch slapped a bouncer in a strip joint for joking around about getting head from a kid.”
“Yeah, well, he was gross and made me angry,” Emma admitted.
Chris knew she needed to cheer up.
“Now think about that powerful mom moment and say, ‘clean your damn room’ and mean it!”
She laughed.
“Thank you, Christopher.”
He glanced around and didn’t see any media, so he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It feels ever dirtier sneaking around and kissing you.”
Emma punched him in the side.
“You are a bad influence.”
“You think? I hope you let me babysit.”
She held his hand. “Any day, Uncle Christopher. Any day.”
That made him smile.
“Next?” he asked.
“Let’s head to ‘Aquarius’. We’ll tell them what we found. They aren’t going to let me head to Vine to search that apartment.”
Chris was aware.
He already knew who was going.
It looked like a boy’s night out after all.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Detective Poppy Wayne and her partner, Hunter Dietrich, were dispatched to the house based on an anonymous tip from a neighbor.
There were shots fired, and the neighbor saw a body through the window.
So, they headed there.
Pulling up to the house, they both got out with guns in hand. There were no houses next to it, and something felt off.
“What’s wrong with this scene?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe that there are no neighbors, and no possibility of hearing gunshots?” Hunter said, watching their backs.
Yeah, that nine-one-one call was feeling a tad bit bogus.
Poppy headed for the porch, and she stared in the two windows that would give her a look into the building.
“Yeah, and I don’t see a body hanging in them, so I’m not feeling this call.”
Her partner was in the same boat.
“Yeah, it’s like someone knew we would go inside and investigate.�
�
She didn’t like this.
At all.
Vegas was a shit mess. She’d been on the force for fifteen years, and something about this stunk to high-freaking-heaven.
“Name on the mailbox is Lucas.”
Poppy tapped on the door.
Nothing.
She opened the door and called.
“Hello?” she called, trying to see if anyone was home.
Nothing.
“Let’s go. This screams ambush!” Hunter hissed, pulling on her arm as he was getting that feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Her too, until Poppy looked up.
On the ceiling of the house, there was a vicious red stain growing.
And there they had it.
She knew where the body was going to be found.
Poppy pointed up.
Detective Hunter Dietrich stopped.
He got it too.
“Looks like you and I are going to clear a house for old time’s sake,” she said, pointing for her partner.
That never ended well.
Well, shit.
This sucked.
“You go high, and I’ll go low,” she said, stepping inside and holding the door for her partner.
He was right behind her.
As they cleared the lower level, nothing looked out of place. They were both extremely careful not to touch anything. This was likely going to be a crime scene, and they needed to preserve it.
At the stairs, she took the lead, giving her partner her back. Together, they crept up the stairs, trying to ascertain where the blood stain was coming from.
Poppy was willing to bet the body was on the floor in the last room.
At the door, she pushed it open with her toe. As it creaked, they moved into position.
That’s when they saw him.
He was gray.
He was lying in a pool of blood.
And he was a LVPD detective.
Holy shit!
“That’s Lester,” she hissed, moving into the room. Carefully, she crouched down and touched his neck.
He was cold, and they were too late.
Hunter holstered his sidearm, and shook his head. “Another cop down. This city is a mess.”
She didn’t disagree.
Poppy was looking around the room. There was beeping going on, and she couldn’t figure out what it was.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It sounds like his alarm on his phone.”
She looked around.
His gun was there.
His badge was coated in blood.
His phone…
Nowhere.
Then she moved around the bed and could see a flashing light coming from beneath the dust ruffle.
It looked like she found it.
Pulling a glove from her pocket, she picked it up. Pushing the button, she turned off the alarm. When she did, it went to the screen where there was a text message.
It was to his partner.
It appeared that the man was going to be instrumental in solving his own murder.
Holy shit!
Thank you, Lester Lucas.
“You have to see this.”
Hunter moved closer.
His face said it all.
“WOW!”
Yeah, it was a message from the dead.
And most importantly, it told them who did the crime. If this was right, they’d gotten lucky, but the whole LVPD was about to have the opposite luck.
Lester Lucas was accusing one of their own of his demise, and that was huge.
She pulled out her phone, and called it in. Only, she didn’t call her boss, and for good reason.
She called her boss’s boss.
This was huge.
And a big problem.
For everyone with a badge.
Chapter Sixteen
Park
Mid-Morning
W hen Riley arrived, the team was already there, and they were beginning to pull evidence and snap pictures of the man on the bench. The ME was already on his knees, beside the body. The only person who wasn’t there was Riley’s partner.
Clearly, he was taking the day off.
The slacker.
“Doctor Stone, what do we have?” Riley asked, pulling on his gloves so he could help dig through the man’s pockets to find anything to help them.
“Our victim took one to the heart via ribcage. It looks like a shank, and it was a one-shot kill. That takes skill. He knew what he was doing.
“Well, that’s just great. Have you heard from my partner?” he asked.
Doctor Jameson Stone glanced over. “No, Detective. You’re first on scene. I haven’t seen Lester in a couple days.”
For some reason, this wasn’t sitting right with him. Lester was the kind of guy who came to work with the flu, and then promptly infected everyone around him.
He didn’t do sick days.
Riley was getting worried, so he sent his partner a text, asking where he was.
Nothing.
Well, it looked like he was doing this one on his own.
Riley slipped his phone back into his pocket and got down to business. “Do we have any ID on this one?” he asked.
“Getting there, Detective. I’m just about to check his body as soon as the techs finish pictures.”
That worked for him. While the man was working, he opted to ask about the other ‘unofficial’ case.
“Hey, Doc, did we have any more Jane Does come in?”
The man looked over.
“Actually, yeah, we did. How did you know?” he asked.
Riley laughed. “It’s Vegas. I figured it was a given. Do you have any details on her?”
The man worked on the dead man’s liver temperature, but still pulled his phone out. “You can find her picture on there. I was about to send it over to the precinct when I got the call.”
He flipped through the files.
That’s when he saw her.
Well, shit!
“Can you send me this picture?” he asked.
“Do you know her ID?”
“Yeah, I know who she is. She’s tied to a case I’m working,” he said. “Her name is Julie Pierce. She’s a minor,” he offered.
“That’s horrible,” Stone stated. “As for the picture, I can do that as soon as I’m done,” he said, slipping the dead man’s wallet out of his pocket when they laid him flat.
He was still flexible. Rigor hadn’t set in, so the man hadn’t been dead too long.
“He’s got ID on him,” Doctor Stone said, holding the driver’s license between his fingers.
“Name?” Riley asked, pulling out his phone to make note of it so he could do research for next of kin.
“We have an Anthony John Delmarco, age forty. It looks like it could be a fake, but that’s a start.”
At the name, he had Riley’s full attention.
“What?”
He repeated it.
Riley just stared at him.
“Uh, are you okay, Detective?” the city ME asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
But he wasn’t. This was going to be interesting.
They had Julie’s body, and now Anthony Delmarco had turned up dead too.
That posed one HUGE question.
Was the killer, the Crofts were chasing, cleaning up any loose ends?
He didn’t think this was a coincidence. Julie turned up last night, and now the sex trafficking mule is sitting on a park bench from a shank wound.
Yeah, definitely not a coincidence.
“I have to go,” Riley said, taking a picture of the man’s ID. I’m going to need everything you have on this case ASAP,” he said, as he was backing away.
“Sure thing, Detective,” he offered, watching him leave.
The whole team watched him tear out of there in a hurry.
Stone focused on the dead.
“Let’s bag him up. Our cooler is going to be full,” he sai
d, pulling off his gloves.
It was just another day in Vegas.
Unfortunately.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Aquarius
When they walked in, the place already had a good deal of customers, enjoying their day.
Marissa was also there, doing her thing. For a moment, Dimitri just watched her. He’d had a rough night, thinking about the kiss they’d shared on his couch.
The entire time, he wanted to head to that tiny apartment, wake her up, and spend time with her.
He wanted to forget, and he figured she could help him.
Then he stopped himself.
Dimitri was out of control.
He was hoping for things that he couldn’t have, and he was daydreaming about thing that could never be.
Her.
Him.
Together.
Still…
He desperately craved that connection, and she seemed to get past his walls. He was still reeling from that kiss, and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.
As he leaned against the wall, he could see her handling some of the customers.
She was a natural.
Maybe that was what he loved best about her.
Marissa knew how to work a room. She was wearing a short skirt, high heels, and a smile. The patrons responded to that.
And so did he.
His heart thumped in his chest the second he saw her turn. She smiled at him, and the world went all screwy around him.
“You have it bad,” Greyson said, coming up next to him. “Just have sex with her already.”
“Oh, okay, give me ten minutes. I’ll clear this table.”
Croft laughed.
“I can’t just walk up to her, throw her over my shoulder, and take her in the back room. I’m not you.”
Greyson gave him a fist bump. “Good one. That is my style. Don’t knock it. My kitten likes me this way.”
Dimitri wanted that. Not Emma, per say, but a woman who liked him the way he was.
Dark.
Damaged.
Broken.
Yeah, that was a tough mix, and he knew it.
“Just make a move and see how she reacts. You already spent some lip time, see what else she’s up for and go from there,” Greyson said.
Paid Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 3) Page 33