Mob Justice

by Morgan Kelley

  Oh, crap!

  Yeah, he’d just warned her about that.

  “Don’t worry. I handled it,” Chris stated.

  Dimitri stared at the screen.

  “What did you do?”

  “I told them you were with a transvestite, sorry, Detective,” Chris said. “I like to make Dimitri’s life hell.”

  She laughed—not sure if he was kidding or not. With these three, she could see it would be hard.

  “Yes, I can see that you do.”

  Dimitri ignored him.

  “Where, Emma?”

  She told him the name of that little café. It would be perfect.

  “Mac wants Italian.”

  “We’ll be there. We haven’t done any interviews yet. We’re just arriving now at the detective’s place.”

  “If you talk to my husband, tell him about our lunch date. I have a feeling I’ll be busy in the sex shop.”

  Dimitri laughed.

  “Get bubbles for our next little bath,” he teased, knowing it would make Chris insane.

  And there was his silver lining.

  Emma winked lasciviously at him.

  “You know it, my sexy Russian tub mate.”

  He winked back.

  Chris wasn’t having any of that. Immediately, he flipped him off.

  “You suck. Don’t poach my BFF.”

  Dimitri didn’t let him say anything else. Quickly, and without warning, he cut off the call.

  “You have an interesting relationship with Emma Croft,” Poppy said.

  “It’s a difficult one to understand.”

  “Are you sure you two aren’t an item? I’m not judging. I’m just not into weird sex triangles.”

  He laughed.

  Oh, he was saving that line for the next time Chris irritated the hell out of him. Dimitri was pretty sure he could work it into a comeback.

  “We aren’t a couple, and we have never been one. It’s pretty cut and dry, Detective. The bottom line is that Emma is very important to me. She’s the only one who has ever seen through this. I love her very much. Is that going to be an issue?”

  “Will you be naked in a tub again?” she asked.

  He parked their ride.

  “It was the day you brought me back. She was trying to get my temperature up. She was dressed.”

  Poppy felt silly.

  Jealous.

  It was something she’d never felt before.

  “I’ve never wanted to have sex with Emma. I just wanted her love, and I have it.”

  This was uncomfortable for Poppy. What the hell was she supposed to say to that?

  “You are a very different story, babochka. I do want to have sex with you.”

  There went that heat again.

  Poppy flushed.

  What the hell was she supposed to say to that? God knew she wanted that too. She’d spent all night thinking about it. How could she not?

  “We should go interview the man,” she stated, trying to change the subject.

  He grinned.

  It wasn’t lost on him that the woman beside him was blushing.

  It was sweet.

  Dimitri hopped out of the vehicle and came around to help Poppy out, but she’d beaten him to the punch. She was ready.

  In fact, she was all cop.

  The blush was gone.

  It was sexy how she managed to flip the switch so fast and effortlessly.

  Then again, Emma did the same damn thing.

  Heading toward the door, she knocked. When it opened, there was a man standing there.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “I’m working a cold case, and your name was in the original file. I was hoping I could pick your brain.”

  She flashed him her badge but purposely didn’t give him her name.

  “Aren’t you Dimitri Gideon?” he asked, pointing at the man behind her.

  “Nope,” he said.

  The man looked confused.

  Poppy knew she needed to figure out a way to cover for him, or this would be over before it started.

  “Actually, he’s my partner. We get that a lot,” she stated. “He uses it to pick up the ladies all the time. Boy, are they disappointed.”

  The man laughed.

  Dimitri gave her a look.

  “Come on in,” the cop stated.

  They headed in.

  Poppy was glad the man was old, and hopefully, a little short of perfect eyesight. Had he not been, that last lie wouldn't have worked—at all.

  “This case has been cold a long time,” he said, once she told him which one she was working on.

  “It has,” she agreed, sitting down.

  “I only worked it a short time,” Quinn Harrell stated. “It was put into a file rather fast.”

  “Why?”

  “It was a hot mess,” he stated. “What that animal did to that little girl…it was sick. I wanted to catch him, but it wasn’t happening.”

  “Why?”

  “The mother.”

  “What about her?” Poppy asked, trying to figure out where he was taking this.

  “It seems that Eloise Wayne was a little loose, if you know what I mean.”

  Dimitri watched Poppy’s face.

  She didn’t react.

  That had to be hard for her, and yet, the cop was in control.

  “Can you explain that to me?” she asked. “How did you come about that information?”

  The older man leaned back in his recliner.

  “We talked to the neighbors, and they said she had men coming and going all the time. She was big into sleeping around. It literally came down to twenty possible suspects. We had DNA, but that wasn’t big back then. It’s probably still in the basement in a box.”

  Poppy made note of it.

  She’d get that DNA—if she could.

  “What else did you learn?” she asked.

  “A friend of the woman said she didn’t even know who fathered her children. We found so much trace in that place that we couldn’t even keep up. She lived a loose life, and she died a whore.”

  Dimitri wanted to protect her.

  Only, she wasn’t reacting. She wasn’t shocked that the man had said that.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “Do you have the file? If I see the names…it’s been some time. I might need a refresher.”

  She handed him HER file. It wasn’t set up like a normal one, and she prayed he didn’t realize that.

  He pointed at three names.

  “I’d look at them,” Quinn Harrell stated.

  Poppy marked them.

  “What about Daniel Stewart?” she asked. “What made him the main suspect?”

  “The friend, Brent, pointed us at him. She was ‘dating’ him at the time. Only, he was married. He wouldn’t talk to us. He pointed us at a lawyer, and we moved on. I had seven other cases. You know how Vegas is.”

  She did.

  Only, that had been her mother and her sister, so someone had to make sure every stone was turned to find this maniac.

  “What about Lewis Garrett?”

  He laughed.

  “He said he knocked her up, and she wanted child support, but he wanted a paternity test to prove the first kid was his.”

  Her heart skipped.

  Could that be the killer or her biological father?

  Poppy pushed on.

  “What about Greg Townsend?” she asked, trying to keep her composure.

  “She worked for him. He had an alibi, so we let it go. Like I said…we were bogged down, and she stopped mattering. All I do know is that I didn’t have enough evidence. It eventually became unimportant.”

  Dimitri hurt for her.

  “I wonder what became of the first kid. It was a sad lot to be born into,” Quinn stated. “She likely ended up like her mother. You know how kids are when they see that shit. She’s probably hooking on the street.”

  Poppy held it together.

  How?


  She had no freaking clue. Suddenly, she wished Dimitri had waited in the car. She didn’t want him hearing any of this. It didn’t paint her in a good light.

  “I doubt that.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “When you see what was done to them, it never lets you get past that. If anything, she’s still seeing it. She found them, and she likely has to carry that every day of her life.”

  Dimitri understood.

  He’d lived in the hell of some sick monster.

  His father had created that hell.

  Poppy wasn’t the only one with nightmares.

  “Well, then bless her soul. This guy was a monster. He raped a six-year-old. I hope he’s dead.”

  Poppy stood and shook his hand.

  “Thank you,” she said, heading out. Honestly, she couldn't do it anymore. The pain was getting to be too much. She wanted to cry.

  Dimitri followed.

  When she got in the vehicle, he didn’t know what to say. He imagined…well, he knew what it was like to be the child of a monster.

  “Poppy,” he said.

  “It’s okay. She’s long gone. That was then, and this is now. I will get her justice and put it to bed.”

  He couldn’t let it go.

  Like he had to let her see all the ugliness in his life before her, she had to do the same. It had to be a two-way street.

  They needed it for the foundation.

  “You remembered it being like that, didn’t you?” Dimitri asked. “You remember the men.”

  She laughed.

  “Yeah, I do. As a cop, I get it. It could be anyone. I remember the men coming and going, and I remember sleeping at my friend’s house as much as possible to avoid it. Still, as the child, it stings.”

  That was a lie.

  It really hurt.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  “I need to think. Can you take me somewhere quiet?” she asked. “I need to process everything I’ve just heard.”

  “Certainly, Poppy.”

  He started up the ride and headed out.

  It was the least he could do.

  For the woman he loved.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Trixie’s Boudoir

  When they arrived at the sex shop, the place already had people streaming in and out it. They had plenty of cars in the parking lot, and the whole time, Emma was grinning like a lunatic.

  Chris knew what was coming.

  “You’re a sicko.”

  She giggled.

  “I can’t help it. I love tormenting the hell out of you, Dante, Dimitri…”

  “We are NOT buying anything,” he stated right off the bat. “I’m not tasting anything, and you may not, under any circumstance, hold leather chaps to my body and tell me they should fit.”

  She snorted.

  “Or a thong. Or a strap on. Or anything else. In fact, you stay in the car.”

  “Geez. You do it one time, and suddenly, it’s a bad thing,” Emma teased.

  “I mean it.”

  “Well, then I have bad news for you. I have a longstanding agreement with Dante that whenever I come into a place like this, I am to buy him cinnamon lube. He likes it hot.”

  Chris stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

  “I don’t understand why…”

  She didn’t have time for him to come to the conclusion on his own. So, she told him.

  There in the parking lot.

  LOUDLY.

  “Anal sex and cinnamon lube. Do you REALLY want me to describe it?”

  When it dawned on him why the man really liked it, he went red.

  “NO! God! That’s awkward. A month ago, he smelled like cinnamon. I thought it was gum.”

  She giggled.

  Emma was trying to distract him. She didn’t dare bring up sex and him having it ever again. There was too much Natasha tied up in that. Chris was covering for himself, and she’d keep it light.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.

  “Want to hold hands?”

  “NO!”

  “Can I put my hand in your pocket?”

  He yanked on her ponytail.

  “Brat.”

  She snorted.

  Once out of the ride, Chris was all over her. Emma knew that was about her being stabbed and him not being there to keep her safe.

  He was overcompensating.

  So be it.

  She was fine with that. If that was what he needed to get through this, she’d suck it up. Besides, when wasn’t someone all over her?

  Greyson.

  Dimitri.

  Chris…

  At the business, he opened the door for her and pulled off his sunglasses to scan the area. Once inside, she merrily walked around the place.

  Sex shops fascinated her.

  Was it about sex?

  No, because she and Greyson had a pretty exciting life without ‘aids’, but she loved checking out the things that people liked to kink up their relationships.

  Everyone liked toys, and from the size of this place, Vegas was keeping the economy going.

  Chris, on the other hand…not so much.

  Sex shops made him nervous.

  “We should get this over with,” he stated. “Ask and let’s go. This place makes me want to go to church to repent, and I haven’t done anything.”

  She snorted.

  “There’s a line. I have to wait. Just peruse and try not to look so frigid. It’s like being in here with Dimitri.”

  He laughed.

  Chris could only picture it.

  He would pay good money for Dimitri to be trapped here in the sex shop with Emma. Then again, the way that sounded didn’t exactly make him happy.

  He needed to suck it up.

  As they walked around the place, of course, there were stares. Honestly, they ignored it most of the time. This was what happened when you were a Croft—or a Gideon. People watched the media and believed a good chunk of what they’d been told.

  People were freaking sheep.

  Here was the proof.

  Still, Chris moved closer to Emma, protecting her with the bulk of his body. His arm was around her back, holding her to him by her hip.

  He wasn’t taking any chances.

  NONE.

  As they were walking around a corner, to hunt down the cinnamon lube for Dante, Chris saw her and froze.

  Emma stopped and looked up at him.

  His face said it all.

  She almost expected ten ninjas, a dinosaur, and two robots to be coming at them with lasers. That’s how horrified he looked.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He didn’t get to reply.

  Chris didn’t get to answer. Before he could even open his mouth, SHE spoke.

  And by ‘SHE’ he meant his ex-wife.

  Denise.

  “Well, if it isn’t Christopher Ford in the flesh. You’ve been hiding from me in Vegas.”

  Emma turned her head and saw the harpy.

  Oh Christ!

  This was going to be bad.

  “Hello, Denise,” Chris said, trying to keep any emotion from his voice. This was the LAST person he wanted, or needed, to see.

  What the hell had he done in that past life to deserve any of this?

  Natasha, who wasn’t in love with him, and lied, had been blown up.

  Emma nearly died.

  And now his ex.

  When Emma heard her name, immediately, she grabbed the hand that had been on her hip. She held it firmly in hers, giving him any reassurance that she could.

  He tightly squeezed hers, and she knew this was his worst nightmare. It was something he never wanted to happen. Coming face to face with a woman who had lied to him for years by fucking anyone who would pull out his dick, she had damaged him.

  Denise had been his pain and suffering for years—and still was.

  “Excuse us,” Chris said, trying to walk around
her. Only, she blocked him.

  Some guy half her age came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Chris ignored it.

  “I’m in here with my new boy toy. He likes to be spicy in bed. I’m sure you don’t get that.”

  Emma could see the terror and pain.

  Chris was hurting.

  It pissed her off.

  This woman had some audacity. She’d cheated on her husband, ran him through the ringer, humiliated him, and destroyed his faith in women. Plus, she was taking a shot at him as he’d just lost Natasha.

  “We meet again, Denise,” Emma said, wrapping her arm around Chris’s waist and shoving her hand into his back pocket to show ownership.

  There was no way this bitch was going to break him.

  Not.

  On.

  Her.

  Watch.

  “Oh, yes, you. How’s the HUSBAND?” she asked Emma, and then went back to Chris. “Weren’t you dating that girl who was blown up? That seemed to be a drastic way to escape your bed.”

  Chris wanted to escape.

  Emma wanted to punch her in the face. In her head, she began weighing the amount of time it would cost her in prison, and if Delilah could get her out on some insanity plea—since she was pregnant.

  “Greyson is around,” she stated, covering for Chris. Emma could tell he was struggling. She knew him. “So, while he’s off making millions, I’m here with Chris. We’re just shopping. It’s nice to meet your new guy. Can he legally be in here? Isn’t that pedophilia? Thank God I’m not a cop anymore.”

  Denise bristled.

  “Yeah, neither is he. All that corruption that took you both down,” Denise fired back.

  Only, Emma wasn’t having it.

  “Oh, let me guess, he needed his books paid for this semester and you were available.”

  She laughed.

  “You’re funny. My guy is legit. I don’t buy for a second that Chris Ford is your anything,” she said, pointing at her ex. “I had sex with him for years. Lights out, one position, and he was a snooze. He doesn’t do anything illicit. He doesn’t live on the wild side. He’s the reason I moved on to greener pastures.”

  Oh, no, she didn’t.

  Did this woman think she could come back to HER town and tear HER best friend apart like that in front of people? They had an audience.

  Well, that made Emma want to level the playing field.

  It was time.

  She was going to school Denise no matter the cost.