“His place is neater than ours,” stated Agent Brass. “I’m pretty messy, and Paris is always cleaning up after me.”
Emma found that funny, because the same was true for her and Greyson. He was a neat freak and followed her around with a laundry basket all the time.
“Yeah, preaching to the choir. Everything here looks in place and organized.”
They stopped over at that mantle. “It looks like our guy didn't have a lot of personal mementos,” Tessa said, picking up a picture frame. “It’s another agent. You can see his badge and gun sticking out.”
“Yeah, well, agents get very close.”
Tessa could attest to that. She was as close to Paris as humanly possible.
“I think he was dedicated to the job,” Emma said, knowing that it was common when you were a cop. “It’s not easy to be married to one of us.”
She looked over, dying to ask something.
“I can hear you thinking, Tessa, so go ahead.”
“If two people were to fall in love, and they both worked for the FBI, what are the chances that they could get married and still be partners?”
Emma knew this wasn’t hypothetical at all. “From what I understand, it would come down to the discretion of the director. I know that there are exceptions to the rule,” she tried to reassure. “Greyson’s boss is married to his field partner and co-director,” she offered, and then glanced over. “Tessa, you should be having this discussion with Greyson.”
Tessa looked panicked. “No, I’m not getting married. I’m just asking for future reference. You know, in case it happens one day.”
“Off the record?” Emma offered.
“Yes, please.”
“Greyson is a big puddle of mush when it comes to love, despite what you think you know about him. I’d bet that he’d try to keep you both together as much as possible, as long as you didn't lie to him. Once you toss out the deceit, he’ll nail your ass to the wall on it, without mercy. If you get engaged, I’d be honest and tell him immediately.”
That gave her hope. “Really?”
She nodded, as they headed into the bedroom. “I could mention it, if you want,” she offered.
Tessa shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. He hasn’t asked. I was just wondering.”
“Slow mover, huh?”
She laughed. “I kissed him first, I lured him into bed, and I said ‘I love you’ before him too. Paris is amazing, but he’s a thinker. We have to have the same thing for breakfast every day, because he once took ten minutes to decide between oatmeal and cereal.”
Emma grinned. “Then, you should ask him.”
She laughed. “He’d have a damn heart attack.”
“Yeah, I know how that feels. I happen to have a man who freaks out easy too. I say go for it. Sometimes, you have to live life on the edge.”
Tessa smiled. “Thanks, Emma.”
“No problem,” she said, looking under the mattress. “Oh, look what I found.”
She turned. “What?”
Emma held up the tube of lube and the girly magazines. “We had a Fed taking care of his own needs.”
Tessa peeked under her side next. “Yeah, more literature here too.”
“Well, good to see that he was a normal man with the same thing on his mind as the rest of them. I hate when you search a room and find something so bizarre that it makes you blush.”
Tessa glanced up, grinning wickedly. “I once found a case of pudding under some dead john’s bed, and from the imprint in one of those little cups, he wasn’t eating it. Well, not alone anyway.”
She snickered. “Awesome.”
Agent Brass scanned the room, knowing there was only one place left. “Do we flip for the bathroom?” she asked, pulling out a quarter. In their line of work, that was the least favorite room in the house.
Emma was game. “Heads.”
The coin was tossed in the air, and they watched it hit the floor.
“Damn,” Tessa muttered, as Emma giggled.
“Have fun. If you find pudding, call for back up--approach with extreme caution.”
She entered the bathroom and turned on the light. So far, it was just as neat and clean as the rest of the rooms. As she scanned the walls, she noticed that they were clear of the handprint. There was only one last place to look. Pulling the curtain back, she placed her hand on the butt of her gun. She’d seen the movie ‘Psycho’ and was nobody’s fool. When the curtain was back, she found what she was looking for, and a little more.
“Oh, Emma!”
“Yeah?” she replied.
“I found our handprint,” she stated, pulling out her phone and taking a picture.
“Great.”
“Not really,” she stated, sending the photograph to her boss, and partner, for him to begin working on it for his profile.
“What do you mean?” Emma asked, sticking her head in the bathroom.
Then, she saw it.
“Oh shit!”
Across the shower wall was a message written in blood.
More to come.
“This is really bad,” Emma said, worried.
“Yeah, you can say that again.”
~Chapter Six ~
Paris Archer was nervous as hell as he stood in the conference room, ready to lead this part of the assignment. When he called Captain Patty Stout, she informed him that she was picking the detectives who could help.
It was something to do with rotation and paperwork. He honestly didn't care, as long as they did their job. With the boss man all riled up, now wasn’t the time to provoke him.
As the detectives began arriving, one by one, he measured them up. There were two who were boisterous, and a Native detective who was incredibly quiet. None of them looked excited about the prospect of working with the FBI.
This was looking bad for him.
This was more Tessa’s area, and he didn't have a hope of getting it under control. When he tried to speak, the two detectives who were busy being rowdy wouldn’t cut him a break. It was like the bullies he encountered all through his life as a kid.
Paris knew he was sunk when it drew the attention of his boss.
“Excuse me,” Croft said, voice booming as he entered the room.
The two men shut up pretty fast.
“I don’t care how you run things in your house, but in mine, we give respect to everyone. So, you settle down and work, or you head back. If you take option B, there will be a call to the commissioner, and I’ll make sure something is noted in your personnel file.”
Detective Laden scowled. “Yeah, yeah. We know how you run your shop.”
Croft ignored him, giving the floor to his agent.
“We have four files. On the board is the profile of what we’re up against. We need to go through each one and see if any of the suspects match the information.”
The men each took a file.
“Is it safe to assume that you’ve all worked with profilers before?” he asked, taking his seat.
“Yeah, big squishy brains, tiny little balls,” Laden said, trying to provoke the man.
Croft was about to send him home, when his agent stepped up and took control.
“Let me guess, Detective. Your father left when you were a kid, you got in lots of trouble as a bully in school, and decided that you wanted to be a cop to be powerful.”
The man scowled.
“Hey, that’s just a guess from someone with a big squishy brain and average sized balls.”
Croft patted him on the back.
“You have this, Paris,” he said, getting up.
There was no doubt.
Croft headed down to the lab to check up on his team. He said it was because he wanted to take care of work, but it was really because he was edgy. It wasn’t all because of the text his agent had sent him.
Yeah, he knew there’d be more killed. The shooter wasn’t telling him anything that he didn't already know. What had him completely stirred up was that Em
ma wasn’t speaking to him.
Still.
It had been four hours, and he couldn’t get her to crack.
He was going to have to put his wife first, over the job, if he wanted everything to be harmonious before the night’s events. There wouldn’t be room for them to be angry while facing down a room of perspective criminals.
Yeah, this needed to end.
“Hey, it’s good to see you, Max,” he said, walking into the lab. “How are you?” he asked, smiling at the man.
The head tech stared at him like he was out of his mind. “Are you firing me?” he blurted.
“No, why?”
“You’re being nice.”
Okay, so much for treating his team a little better. Obviously, that scared the hell out of them. Maybe if it wasn’t broken, he shouldn’t fix it.
“How about you just tell me what we have, and I’ll get out of your way?”
“Well, we just sent a team out to check Phillip Cahill’s apartment. I got the photo in from Agent Brass, and I’ll start processing everything as it comes in.”
He was good with that. “How about the tox on our victims?”
Out of a folder, he removed a piece of paper. “They were all clean of illegals. A few of them had prescription drugs in their system, but nothing to be alarmed about. I ran the drugs against their personnel files, and they matched up with medical procedures for a surgery, a back injury, or being hurt on the job. Lester Williams had a high level of one specific drug.”
That had his attention.
“It was definitely a prescription one. The only reason the system tagged it, was it was elevated, so he likely took it earlier that morning.”
“And it was?” Croft asked.
“He had recently used Viagra.” The man kept scanning the paper. “Which isn't that odd, if you think about it. He was in his forties and probably needed a little extra help to get it up. You know how it is,” he said, and then realized that didn't come out the way it was supposed to at all.
When he looked up, his boss was staring at him.
“I didn't mean that you had any experience with that. After all, your wife, she probably helps…”
Oh God!
It was as if he couldn’t stop digging the hole. With each word, it was getting worse.
“For the record, I never want to hear my name, Viagra, and reference to my wife in the same sentence ever again.”
He swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“Now, continue.”
“Yes, Director,” he said, scanning his paper. “We searched everything in the place and found nothing. The cyber team came up with no porn on the computers and nothing in the house. It looked like Lester and Leslie Williams had a good marriage, and no secrets.”
Damn it!
Why was this word popping up all day today? It was like the universe was trying to get him to fix his mess. He wanted to have an open and fulfilling marriage with his wife, too.
Okay, he got the point.
Croft was on it.
“Keep digging, and when you process all the things that come in, send me an email. I’ll be in the field tonight on special assignment.”
The man simply nodded. As much as Max liked living on the edge, he didn't want the ‘Ice King’ mad at him.
That was nothing less than career suicide.
And let’s face it. There was more than enough death going around. He didn't need to add to it.
* * *
It entertained the killer.
Already, the FBI was scrambling, trying to find a way to track the person who was now playing judge, jury, and executioner.
They wouldn’t be able to do it.
Since this was cleaning up a mess they had made, it was ordained to be done. If anything, justice had to be served, and on the backs of those who brought this upon themselves.
It was all fun and games, until the FBI crossed a line and broke the law. Once that happened, they would have to pay.
Just like the innocent ones before them.
Now, it was time.
Leaning back, the killer flipped to the news station, needing a different perspective on what was happening. Curiosity was there, as hope built that the FBI was beginning to look bad in the public eye.
This would be their downfall.
It was a matter of time. The next victim was already chosen, studied, and marked for termination.
Death was coming, bringing his friend justice to the party.
And what a celebration it was going to be...
* * *
Emma was wrapping up the scene when her phone rang for the trillionth time. All the other calls, she let go to voice mail since she was trying to focus on work.
This time, it was her husband.
Answering, Emma kept all the emotion from her voice. If he was going to break the rules, she was going to put her foot down.
“Detective Croft.”
“Emma, we need to talk. Is there any way that you can meet me at home?”
She found that odd, and then it scared the hell out of her. “Are you okay?” she asked, thinking about how she left him alone at work.
“Yes, but I need you to meet me there.”
Emma wasn’t going to hold a grudge. If her husband was heading out of the office in the middle of the day, asking to have her join him, it had to be important.
“I’ll be there. Do you want me to pick you up?”
“No. I’m already on my way, so just head to the condo. I need to show you some things.”
With that, the phone went dead.
“Are you okay?” Tessa asked, staring curiously at her field partner.
“I have to go. Can you hope a ride back with the tech team?” she inquired, pulling off her gloves and tossing them to a lab worker.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Just be safe,” she said, watching the woman stride away. There was something definitely wrong between the boss and the detective.
There was distinct tension in the air.
When she arrived at home, Greyson’s gear was on the counter, but he was nowhere to be found. As she dropped her own bag and keys, she called to him.
“I’m in our bedroom, Emma.”
Okay, now she was perplexed. It was the middle of the day, with an ongoing case, and he was at home and in their room. Maybe he wanted to kiss and make up with some mid-day making out.
This was weird and set her on alert.
“Coming,” she called, hoping he wasn’t in the mood for more of a fight. Frankly, she didn't have it in her. Being angry at Greyson was exhausting.
When she walked into the bedroom, she nearly fell over. Oh, her husband wasn’t naked, and this had nothing to do with sex.
“Holy shit,” she muttered, staring at him. What she saw was the last thing that she ever expected to find. Granted, she was aware that her husband was in the military, but as of yet, Emma had never seen any proof that this part of his past actually existed.
Now, it was right in front of her, in all its glory.
Standing in the middle of the room, he was in his formal Army Ranger garb, all the way down to the tan beret. Across his shoulders were the patches, his medals, and braided rope.
It was so shocking, that she literally stared with her mouth hanging open for a few seconds. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure if she should be scared out of her mind that he was having a break with reality, or incredibly turned on by what she was seeing.
She prayed for the latter, fully expecting the first option. It was just that kind of day.
“Grey?” she finally said, able speak.
“You were right, Emma. Secrets are another form of lying. I wanted to share my past with you.”
She took another step into the room, wondering if he was seriously overworked. Maybe the pressure was getting to him.
“I could have showed you a picture, but this seemed more worthy of our relationship,” he said, pointing at the old trunk that he kept padlocked in his closet.
E
mma didn't know what to say.
“Right now, I’m going to tell you everything about my past, in the hopes that you’ll believe that I don’t want secrets from my wife. I want a strong foundation.”
“Okay, Greyson.”
“Actually, it’s Captain Greyson Thaddeus Croft, and I served my country as an Army Ranger sniper.
Oh, and that was why he was all stirred up inside. Here was a man who was trained to pick off the enemy, and they had a killer that was going against everything he ever believed in.
Now, the anger drifted away, and she was able to see the man before her. Emma moved closer, and placed her hand on his shoulder, right over his patches that depicted the honors he’d earned.
“I killed, hunted, and I took out my adversaries one by one behind enemy lines. It’s why I’m the way I am. When I first went into the military, I was just like my brother. I laughed at everything, and I found humor in life. After I became a killer, I lost all that. I know how fast and easy death can come.”
Emma stared up into his eyes. The man she loved had surprised her. Never would she have seen this coming. In fact, her heart thumped in her chest over him in his uniform. He was incredibly handsome, and she couldn’t adore him more at the moment, if she tried. What he was doing was absolutely sweet. Here, he wasn’t just telling her, but allowing her a glimpse into a past that hurt him.
“I’m not proud of what I’ve done. I signed up, was trained, and became a weapon. Now, it may be back to haunt me.”
Emma laid her head on his shoulder and braced her hand over his heart. It skipped beneath her fingers, sharing with her that he was scared.
“I was the opposite of who I am now. Then, I stole lives, and now I try to stop others from doing just that. Here’s my shameful secret.”
His body was ramrod stiff, and she believed he’d shatter at any second.
“I also lied to you.”
That had her attention. “About?”
He took her hand and brought it to the back of his neck. “I wasn’t out on patrols. I was lying in a blind trying to get a shot and I wasn’t focused. The part about the woman distracting me was the truth. My job and lack of focus were the reason I was hurt.”
Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 14