Waking, he found her gone. There was no scent of breakfast cooking, and that meant one thing.
Paris had a runner.
Now, it was time to track her down and figure out a way to help her understand. That was going to take a talk, and he’d have to be one hundred percent honest with her. She needed to know what was in his heart, and if he had anything to say about it, Tessa was going to listen.
Hopping out of bed, he showered, dressing quickly. As he headed downstairs, he found a note by the coffeemaker.
Paris,
I made you breakfast. It’s in the fridge.
Tessa.
Well, at least she wasn’t too mad. Maybe this wouldn’t be that huge of a mess to fix. Opening the door, he stared inside. Sitting there, mocking him, were frozen waffles. They were still in the box, on a plate.
Oh, his Tessa was a funny one.
He took it back.
She knew how to hit him right where it hurt. Luckily for her, Paris wasn’t one to give up so easily. Now, it was time to use that gray squishy matter between his ears and make this right.
Today.
* * *
For the first time in a long time, Greyson Croft felt his age. It had everything to do with the night he spent with his wife. Their wild carousing had given him aches in places he didn't know existed. This was proof.
He was getting old.
Each time he woke during the night, he thought about her body in those clothes, or the way she carried herself at the game, and he was all stirred up.
If he was hurting, she had to be just as sore.
He wasn’t exactly gentle, but then again, neither was she.
“Are we dead?” she muttered, as his phone alarm kept going off.
“No, honey, we’re not.”
“Please put me out of my misery and smother me.”
He rolled over and placed his body over hers as his lips began wandering.
“I meant with a pillow,” she said, laughing.
He kissed her on the tip of her nose and grinned wickedly at her. “Did I wear you out?”
“Mmmmm hmmmmm,” she said, rubbing her cheek back and forth across his shoulder and chest. When he rolled, placing her on top, she sighed.
“I love you,” he said, as her hands began running through the spattering of his chest hair.
“I love you too,” she replied, snuggling against his side. Then, it hit her, and Emma sat up with a start.
“What?” he said, alarmed.
“You ripped all my clothes off me last night.”
He began laughing. “You just figured that out now?” he teased, playing with a long piece of red hair.
“How am I getting out of here with no clothes?”
Croft pulled her back down. “What do I get if I tell you it’s solved?”
She offered up a kiss.
“That was pretty nice,” he said, stealing another.
“Now tell me.”
He pointed toward the closet. “I planned ahead and have a present for you. I had an overnight bag brought up, and inside is your firearm and badge too.”
Well, he hoped they were. He did leave it up to Curtis and his brother. God only knew what the two of them may have done.
Emma hopped off the bed, heading to the closet. When she opened it and found that he wasn’t lying, she almost wanted to pounce on him again.
Almost.
Before Emma could say anything, Greyson’s phone began ringing.
Looking down at the display, he answered it. “Hello, Commissioner Ford. It’s a pleasure to talk to you on this fine morning. What can I do for you today?”
“Knock it off, Croft.”
Greyson grinned, putting it on speaker. “What do you need, Chris?”
He sounded agitated. “I’m getting call after call from Emma’s captain. It seems she wants an update, and the Feds are being tight lipped.
She laughed.
“Is that you, Emma?”
“Yes, Christopher. I can’t give her an update because we’re still waiting on the detectives she handpicked to get us some suspects.”
He didn't know that was the holdup. “Who’d she pick?”
Croft rattled them off. “Your captain is a funny woman, since she sent us Detectives Bristol, Laden, and Spencer. I’ll take Mace any day, but the other two are useless to me.”
“Laden got picked for something other than asshole of the year?” Ford asked, making Emma snicker.
“Yeah, two of the three were riding my profiler, last I heard. Today, we’re heading in and going to start interviews. If, and that’s a big if, they found anything. So, tell your captain to get her panties out of a bunch.”
Ford laughed. “Yeah, she’s twisted tighter than a virgin at a…”
Emma interrupted. “Gentlemen, she’s my boss, and she’ll make my life a living hell. So, let’s please play nice.”
Ford wasn’t worried since he was her boss too. Anything that Patty Stout had an issue with, had to come to him. If it was jackassery, he’d toss it before it ever became an issue. It’s not like he hadn’t done that countless times already.
“I can only hold her off for so long, so get a report together and get it to her,” Ford demanded.
“Yes, sir,” Emma said, as her husband hung up.
Emma glanced over at the clock radio. “Can you get them to meet us in the office? I need a shower. It seems I was the victim of some raucous love making last night.
“Don’t forget it!” he called after her, as he began sending text messages.
Then, it occurred to him that there was a naked woman in the shower.
Maybe he was getting old.
The younger him would have been in there right behind her.
When the water kicked on, Croft grinned. “On second thought, timing is everything.”
* * *
When Paris Archer arrived at the office, he searched out the woman who left their bed in anger. It didn't take long to locate her, since he headed right for the conference room where he had been working the night before.
Great.
He could get this discussion over with now.
As he stepped in, he noticed Tessa wasn’t alone.
Damn!
Inside, she was joined by Briggs and Westmore. The threesome were going over the files that the detectives had scoured the night before.
“Morning,” he said, taking the seat right beside Tessa. Her body language was crystal clear. It was as if she were waiting for him to say something.
She was lucky they weren’t alone, or he absolutely would.
“Hey, I was going through the data you have,” stated Curtis. “We seem to have three good suspects.”
Paris opened his tablet. “Yeah, after the detectives went through the files, I had to relook. Mace Bristol found the first one, and then Detective Sawyer found the second.”
Brynn already knew where this was going. “And Laden?”
He shrugged. “He was too busy reminding me that nerds have no place in this world, and that I was less of a man than he is.”
Tessa glanced over at him. Her heart ached for the man she loved. She knew that growing up, he was bullied unmercifully, all because he was smart. It was his one wound from an otherwise perfect childhood.
“He’s an asshole,” stated Brynn. “Think of it this way. If he singles you out and rides you, he likes you,” she offered, grinning. “It’s very kindergarten-esque.”
Paris laughed. “Great. He’s my new best friend.”
Tessa knew her boyfriend well enough to know that his heart was a little dinged up. Here, she tried to be romantic, but never asked him why he was so distracted last night. Maybe he didn't mean to hurt her.
“Anyway, I found the third viable suspect, and all we need now is to pass them off to the bosses and we’re good to go.”
“Then, I guess I’m on time,” stated Croft, walking in with a coffee in one hand and Emma at his side.
They all looked
over.
Brynn spoke first, “How was the op last night?”
Croft lifted an eyebrow in warning to his wife. Sometimes, she’d give out a little too much information.
“Titillating.”
Yep, she was predictable if anything. “Emma!”
Curtis began snickering and fought valiantly to keep it under control. He had no doubt what had happened after the poker game. He had a pretty vivid imagination, and he knew what he would have done if he were in the boss’s place.
“We passed off the money and the lab is checking it,” stated Croft, taking a seat. “I assume you and my brother stayed out of trouble last night.”
“We didn't cause too much chaos. The hookers were gone by one.”
Paris started choking on his coffee, and Tessa immediately began slapping him on the back.
Well, at least she touched him. There was his silver lining. It was good to know she didn't want to see him dead.
Emma ruffled Curtis’s hair when she walked past him. “Good boy. You know how mom feels about hookers in the house.”
Croft pulled out his tablet. “Okay, Paris, this is where you prove to me that you deserve the job title of profiler.”
Great.
No pressure at all.
Opening his notes, he got ready to begin. This was always the worst part of his job. Beneath the table, Tessa’s fingers came to rest reassuringly on his thigh. It gave him the ability to focus and start his evaluation. “I took the three victims actively engaged in investigations and examined their files. Tim Eastman was working on a money laundering case, and he had very few suspects. If you look in your notes,” he said, shooting it over to Croft’s tablet. “You will see that our first suspect is Vincent Leery. He was briefly brought in and questioned by the agent. When they kept him in lock up, for over twenty four hours, the man wasn’t happy.”
“I wouldn’t be happy either, if I was innocent,” stated Brynn, reading over the transcript. “It looks like your agent hit him hard with questioning.”
Tessa scanned the notes but didn't see anything that any agent wouldn’t do. Then, she noticed why Paris picked this man as a suspect. “Vincent Leery was threatened with having his kids taken away.”
Emma sipped her coffee. “Yeah, I’m betting that would piss any parent off.”
Paris agreed. “In the transcript, you’ll notice that he tells the agent, at the very end of the conversation, that he’s a going to get even.”
Croft made notes. It looked like they had their first suspect. “Okay, Emma and I will take this one today. What else do we have?”
Paris scrolled through the tablet until he came up with the next victim’s file. “For Billy Lewis, he was working on an abduction case.”
“Okay, continue,” Greyson said, sipping his coffee as he silently observed his agent. At first, he’d been worried that Paris Archer couldn’t pull off the job. He knew that he was all wrapped up with the woman sitting beside him, and sometimes that could be distracting.
When Emma’s hand stroked his leg, he glanced over at her.
Yeah, very distracting indeed.
Paris spoke, “It didn't go well. A family abduction escalated. When the team went in, they suspected that it was one of their neighbors who took the child. He was marked as a sexual deviant, and immediately became the focus of the case.”
“But?” Emma asked.
“It turned out that it was the child’s uncle. They later found her remains on hunting property he owned.”
“And the man they suspected?”
Paris sent him the information. “Bobby Holmes was terrorized by his neighbors. Although he followed the rules, registering as a sex offender, not many people check the Megan’s Law website. He was living right in their midst.”
“Oh boy,” said Brynn, scanning the details. “They lynch mobbed him.”
Paris nodded. “They went one step further. The other neighbors were so angry that he took this child, despite his innocence, they followed him to work. They stalked his every move, and they got him fired.”
“And he’s pissed,” stated Croft. “What was he registered as?” he asked.
“He had sex with an underage girl when he was eighteen. The parents of the sixteen year old called foul, and he was arrested. In order to get out of jail, he pleaded no contest and had to register.”
“So, he wasn’t really a sex offender,” stated Tess. “He was a kid in love with a kid.”
Paris looked over at her. “He couldn’t help who he fell in love with. In fact, he waited for her, and they ended up together. When things are meant to be, they work out.”
Tessa knew that was directed at her. Under the table, his hand came down over hers and he squeezed.
“So, he’s pissed,” stated Croft, observing his two agents. Yeah, there was trouble coming. He could see the way they looked at each other, and from his vantage point, Greyson could also see him holding her hand.
This was going to be a mess.
Emma even glanced over at him, giving him the look.
“Yes, he swore that he’d make the FBI pay for ruining his life. He went on the news trying to explain why he has to register.”
Brynn shook her head. “That’s sad.”
“I want Curtis and Brynn to handle him,” stated Croft. “He seems like a good suspect.”
“I think so, Director. When I read over it, it occurred to me that he’s a marked man. Isn't that what our killer is doing? He’s marking an agent, and tagging him with a bullet to the brain.”
“Very good, Paris.”
He relaxed marginally.
“Who do we get?” asked Tessa.
Paris broke it down for them.
“Our last suspect is Marcus White. The reason he stood out is, while the other two own guns and hunt, Marcus is retired military.”
That definitely had their attention.
“He did a stint in the Army and really likes weapons. When I pulled the register list, he owns more than enough to protect himself through the zombie apocalypse.”
Croft glanced over at his two agents. “When you go in to interview, I want you to take precautions. Vest up and be ready.”
Tessa nodded, already beginning to work out the scenario in her head. While her partner was the brains, she was more the agent, handling the little details.
“Tell us more about the case,” Emma urged.
“Phillip Cahill was working this one. He and his team were looking for a man who was taking women, sexually assaulting them, and burying them. Marcus White makes no excuses for believing that the opposite sex has one place in life. When they dug a little deeper, the man liked porn. In fact, they found he owned lots and lots of incredibly graphic images.”
Greyson leaned back. “So, Phillip believed that the man had an insatiable appetite for violent sex?”
“Yeah, he did. They traced his credit cards and he had purchases for all kinds of ‘things’,” he added, for a lack of other words. Really, he didn't want to describe the list in front of the women in the room. While he liked living a little wild, some of the items even made him blush.
Croft scanned the list. There were certainly suspicious items which could be used in abduction, rape, and murder. “So, what happened?”
“Phillip went after the weakest link. He interrogated the man’s woman.”
Glancing up, he urged Paris to continue.
“They rode her pretty hard, and she told them everything about their sex life. When he found out, there was a domestic dispute, and he was arrested for putting his hands on her.”
“Okay,” Emma said.
“When she refused to press charges, he was let out. He told the agent to watch his back.”
“Then, someone shoots the agent, and we have suspect number three.”
Paris nodded, closing his tablet. “If none of these suspects work for us, I can try and extract more. But, from what we have, I don’t know how close I can come to finding the killer. I really need a
little more to work it all out in my head.”
Croft understood. “You gave us three suspects. We’ll start there, and if we get nothing, we’ll regroup.”
“Shall we get this started?” Emma asked, pushing up from her chair. She planned to stick incredibly close to her husband. In fact, she wasn’t leaving his side.
“Yeah, let’s get moving.”
As they broke into their smaller groups and headed to their desks, Paris rushed to catch up with Tessa. “We need to talk,” he said.
Maybe it was childish to not reply, but there was still an underlying hurt present. Her heart was dinged up, and Tessa didn't have anything to say to him. “Not now,” she replied, grabbing her gun from the desk and clipping it to her hip.
Paris did the same thing, trying not to get irritated. He’d give her this, only because they were about to encounter an ex-military nut who wasn’t keen on FBI agents.
He needed to be focused.
Tessa was his priority.
“I’m ready,” she said, glancing over at him.
Staring into her eyes, he was racked with guilt. He knew she wasn’t going to be focused on anything but what happened. “Okay,” he said, getting that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t often that his gut instinct made an appearance.
Now, it wasn’t only visiting. It was screaming for his attention.
* * *
Emma and Greyson pulled up to a quaint house in the middle of the suburbs. Since it was the middle of the day, it was quiet.
“I’m glad school’s in session,” stated Croft. “If the man’s hot button is his kids, we don’t need to stress him out by coming here when they’re home.”
Emma agreed with him there. The last thing that they wanted was a man going over the edge and pulling a weapon. As they approached the door, they heard a TV from inside, along with a barking dog.
Knocking, they waited.
As a woman opened the door, there were telltale nerves present. Recognition dawned, and her guard was up.
“Can I help you?” she asked, crossing her arms in a defensive manner.
Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 19