Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4)

by Morgan Kelley

  Once she was strapped in, he began pulling his over his head. “Okay, stay safe, Tessa,” he stated, heading back to the driver’s side.

  When she returned to her seat, Tessa wasn’t sure she could stay angry at him. “Paris,” she began, touched that he was being protective. There wasn’t anyone in her life to do that for her.

  “Yes,” he asked, turning to look at her.

  “Can we stop for lunch after this?” Tessa would at least hold out the olive branch. Besides, who knew what was waiting for them at the end of the road. If she could give him a little reassurance, it was worth it.

  Paris relaxed at her words. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “Okay, let’s get this done, partner.”

  Pulling up to Marcus White’s house was a little bit alarming. He lived on the outskirts of town, and he had posted the property no trespassing.

  Granted, that didn't apply to law enforcement, but they were still concerned. He was ex-military and now he looked like he was setting up a compound just outside of Vegas in the hills.

  Yeah, it was time to be cautious.

  Stopping the vehicle, Paris took her hand before she could get out. “Be very careful, Tess.”

  She grinned at him. “You do the same. I happen to love that brain of yours. Keep it in your head.”

  Jumping out, they headed toward the house. Immediately, they were met with two large dogs on chains. Apparently, they didn't like Feds either, because they growled menacingly.

  “Mr. Marcus White, please come out! We need to talk to you!” Tessa shouted, unwilling to approach the dogs.

  The door swung open, and there he stood. He was big, wearing camouflage, and looked crazy enough to be a problem.

  “You two feebs look lost. Get out of here! This is private property!”

  Tessa watched his hands, making sure he didn't reach for anything. “We need to ask you some questions regarding a man named Phillip Cahill.”

  At his name, the man became enraged.

  “I’ll get my gun if you don’t leave!”

  Both agents tensed. “Mr. White, we’re just here to ask you some questions. You need to calm down,” Tessa said, trying to rationalize with him.

  “Shut up! I’m not dealing with a woman. They have their place, and it’s in the damn bedroom!”

  Immediately, Tessa and Paris reversed roles. They knew that Marcus White viewed women as objects, and related violence toward them.

  Paris took over. “You heard him, Agent. Knock it off,” he stated, hoping Tessa would stay calm. When she moved to stand behind him, submissively, he relaxed.

  The man seemed to calm down, even trusting Paris enough to move closer towards them.

  “Geez, I wish the FBI would give me a male partner in the field,” he said, as he shook his head. “These broads are impossible.”

  Tessa fought not to laugh. The look on Paris’s face was somewhere between apologetic and protective.

  It was cute.

  How could she stay mad at him? He’d actually used the word ‘broad’, and that was so unlike him. Since she knew his mother was very much a feminist, it had to pain him to drop that sentence.

  “What do you need?” the man asked, moving even closer.

  Paris eased into it, using his training to keep them both safe. Immediately, he shifted his body more, so that he was directly in front of Tessa, not only for protection but because the man viewed her as less than an equal.

  “We’re investigating his death.”

  The man started laughing outrageously. “Good for whoever killed that asshole. He came into my life, stirred up my woman, and ended up destroying everything I had.”

  Paris pulled out his tablet. “What happened, sir?”

  The man told the story, and then he pointed at Tessa. “I blame society. If these women knew their place, then men could be men. I don’t let my girl run amuck. I like her right where I can keep an eye on her, down on her knees.” He slapped the agent on the arm as he wiggled his eyebrows.

  Paris achieved his goal. Gone was the hostility and in its place was camaraderie.

  It took all Tessa had to not say a word. Instead, she placed her hand on the small of Paris’s back to offer him reassurance that he was doing just fine.

  He read off the date. “Sir, we need an alibi.”

  Marcus White put his hands in his pockets as he thought about it.

  Paris was on alert. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone seemed safe and suddenly lost it. For now, he was going to keep himself and Tessa safe.

  “I was here with my woman. She made me dinner, and then we had lots and lots of sex.” He began laughing, and then glanced over at Tessa. “You any good in bed, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, she is. She’s better there than as my partner,” Paris stated. He only hoped Tessa didn't kill him later. By claiming her as his bedmate, it would keep her safe. If he wanted the man’s trust, it had to be done. If he didn't assert ‘ownership’ of the relationship, he’d be forced to endure the man trying to degrade Tessa.

  That wasn’t happening.

  “Oh, lucky boy,” he said, slapping Paris on the arm again. “She’s a beaut. I like blondes a little more, but I’d do her.”

  Tessa knew better than to say anything. She’d told Paris she liked his brain, and now he was using it. In less than two minutes, he’d managed to calm the man down.

  “I need to corroborate your alibi with your woman. Is she here?”

  He whistled and a young girl raced out the door. “Missy, get your sweet tail out here!”

  She was wearing a very revealing outfit, and there was no doubt what the two had been involved in before they arrived.

  Marcus White grabbed her arm, yanking her closer. “Tell the man what he needs to know.”

  Paris watched her face and saw the fear. Slowly, he asked the question, waiting for her answer. He was pretty sure that anything Missy said was due to duress at that point, and honestly, Paris couldn’t blame her.

  “I was with him all night,” the blonde admitted.

  Tessa wanted to rage around and kick that man’s ass. Here, he was treating a woman like a slave, obviously scaring her, and it was infuriating. This woman needed an education and a ticket out of there.

  “Good girl,” he said, releasing her. When she turned to escape, he slapped her hard on the ass. “Go get ready for daddy. We’ll be finishing up, and then you’ll be doing your job.”

  Paris could feel Tessa’s hand clench in his shirt, right below his vest. Yeah, his girlfriend was about to blow. It was time to end this, after one last area of questioning.

  “So, you were in the military?” Paris asked.

  “Hell yeah, I was!” He rolled up his sleeve and showed him the Army tattoo. “Best ten years of my life. It’s where men could be men, before they let all the women in there. Now, you have to be politically correct. What’s wrong with women sitting their asses home?”

  Paris could see his girlfriend from the corner of his eye. From the look of it, Tessa was ready to pull her gun and shoot their suspect in the family jewels, just to ensure he couldn’t spread around his jacked up DNA.

  “I bet you have lots of guns.”

  He started laughing. “Are you asking to see them, Agent?”

  Paris took a chance. “May I?”

  The man went serious. “I may like you more than Phillip Cahill, but I wasn’t born yesterday. If you want to see my weapons, get yourself a warrant, and then come back. Until then, it’ll have to be over my dead body.”

  Tessa was more than okay with the last part.

  Apparently, their conversation was over.

  “Thank you, Marcus.” Paris held out his business card, waiting for the man to take it. “I’ll be in contact. Here’s my information.”

  The man accepted and his easy mood was back. “Come on back now, ya hear? In fact, when you do, bring her back with you. I like the looks of her, despite her mouth,” he said, jerking his head toward Tessa. “Then a
gain, I bet that’s something too.”

  “You have no idea,” he replied, thinking about the ass chewing he was going to be getting in the car.

  With that, the man headed back toward his house.

  Paris released a held breath. He’d managed to get the job done. They’d asked their questions and build a small connection with the suspect. That was the hardest part of the job.

  Oh yeah. They were also getting out of there without being shot or maimed too.

  They headed back toward the Denali and got inside.

  Tessa didn't say a word.

  “That was a little ugly,” Paris stated, starting up the vehicle. “Thank you for reading where I was heading with that,” he said, knowing she wasn’t happy. Tessa was more progressive and liked to be tough.

  She stared over at him. “If you ever slap me on the ass like that, I’ll break your hand.”

  Paris started grinning, because he was well aware. If anything, he didn't doubt that Tessa would lose her mind.

  “That man was vile, odious, and needs to have the shit kicked out of him,” she said, stewing over how he treated his girlfriend. Tessa wanted to rescue that woman in the worst way. Then again, he’d already abused her and she refused to file. Some victims wouldn’t let you save them.

  He decided to lighten the mood. “When you say no slapping you on the ass, does that mean even during sex, Tessie my love?” he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I’ll let it slide during sex, but that’s it!”

  That was good enough for him.

  Here was another disaster averted.

  ~ Chapter Nine ~

  There was nothing Grayson Croft liked more than a little trip to the interrogation room. It was always his favorite part of the job. Maybe it was because when a criminal, or suspect, saw him coming, they got nervous. His sheer size played in his favor many a times. Croft wasn’t above using that to his advantage.

  It was true what they said.

  The enemy could smell your fear.

  As they stood in the observation room, watching the suspect pace back and forth, they came up with their plan. Croft had every intention of being in the room, only this time, he was taking Curtis Briggs along for the interrogation.

  The look on the man’s face was priceless. It was a cross between giddiness and sheer terror.

  Yeah, this was going to be fun.

  “Are you sure?” Curtis asked, as he felt his blood pressure rising.

  “Yes, I am. Think of this as your initiation into the right of passage from probee to full blown FBI agent.”

  That didn't seem to offer him any reassurance.

  Emma patted him on the arm. “You can do this, Curtis. Focus on the man and forget that we’re all watching you and judging your performance.”

  He stared at her, mouth agape. “I thought you were supposed to be my mom! That wasn’t very nurturing!”

  She patted him on the back. “That’s for tormenting my spiffy husband with the Viagra comment.”

  He glared at Croft. “You’re making her mean, like you.”

  Greyson kissed his wife on the tip of her nose. “Yeah, and I love her to death.”

  Curtis took a deep breath before grabbing the file Brynn was holding out for him.

  There was nothing but sympathy for the young agent. This was her least favorite part of the job too. As a cop, you were either born with interrogation skills, or you weren’t.

  “Okay, I got this,” he said, heading in.

  Right behind him, his partner followed, willing to have his back if he needed it. Deep down, he knew that Curtis would be fine. He was a damn good agent.

  “It’s about time!” bellowed Bobby Holmes. “You can’t hold me for anything. I didn't do a damn thing!”

  Curtis sat, and then opened the file. “Actually, when we arrived to talk to you, you attacked us and that’s a big no-no. You just can’t go putting your hands on FBI agents, or shooting them for that matter.”

  Croft watched him set the man up. It was a thing of beauty.

  “If I get out of these handcuffs, I’ll show you shooting!”

  Curtis grinned. “Really? Like how you killed Special Agent Billy Lewis?” He flipped the photos over, showing the man the crime scene, gore included.

  That seemed to take all the wind out of his sails. The man looked pale.

  “You think I did that?”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Hey! I’m just sick of the FBI screwing with my life. I didn't kill anyone! I was just minding my business until you showed up at my place.”

  “Yeah, well we showed up to just ask you about it, and you apparently felt the need to get violent. Obviously, the person who shot Billy Lewis has anger issues too.”

  The man shut his mouth and sat down, fast.

  “Why don’t you tell us why you hate the FBI so much, Mr. Holmes?”

  The man closed his eyes. “When that little girl went missing, I knew what was going to happen. I’m a registered sex offender. The second word got out, I was screwed.”

  “How did it get out?” Curtis asked, pushing the photos closer. He’d watched his partner use that technique many times. It sometimes rattled them enough they couldn’t lie.

  “All I know is one day the Feds are knocking, and then the next, the world knows I’m a sex offender.”

  “Gee, could that be because usually the first thing everyone does, as soon as someone goes missing, is head right to that angle?” Curtis asked, crossing his arms.

  “Listen, I didn't hurt anyone. My girlfriend got knocked up. Her parents got mad so they called the police. We ended up losing the baby and haven’t been able to get pregnant since. I’ve been faithful, and married her. I loved her then, just like I do now. I didn't hurt anyone, but I was the FBI’s scapegoat when they couldn’t catch who did it. By the time they found the bastard, my reputation was tanked.”

  “That’s a sad story, Bobby, but honestly it doesn’t matter to me. All I know is that I have four dead Feds and one civilian. Someone is picking them off, one by one. You’re at the top of the list.”

  “I’m innocent. I just want to live my life and be happy. Why can’t I have that one opportunity?”

  “You must have really hated Agent Lewis.”

  “I do.”

  Croft caught that he didn't say did. It was a tiny little tell, and it showed him one thing. The man didn't do it. He still wasn’t processing the man’s death. Had he been the killer, he wouldn’t have used the present, but instead the past tense.

  “Where were you last week on Tuesday?” Curtis asked, pushing on.

  He sighed again. “What time?”

  “Nine in the morning.”

  He had to think about it. “I got a shower and ready for my day. My wife had to run to the store to get eggs. Then, she made me breakfast, and I was at work by ten thirty.”

  “Do you own a high powered rifle with a scope?” Curtis asked, making notes.

  “Yes, and I’m sure you already know that, or you wouldn’t have been at my apartment looking for me. You agents are total assholes.”

  Curtis showed Greyson his folder. “Yeah, we did know that. Silly me.”

  “I didn't do this. When can I get out of here? We started a new life, and I have a new job. I don’t need my boss seeing me on the news tonight.”

  Curtis closed the folder. “Then, you shouldn’t have run out of there like a lunatic, nearly tackling my partner. Had I not intervened, you could have hurt her. Plus, you then proceeded to roll around with me on the floor. The only thing that’s saving your ass is that you didn't go for my sidearm. Had you reached for my weapon, you’d be charged with attempted homicide too.”

  “I need to get home!”

  They stood, ignoring his pleas and profanity. Since he was nice enough to give them a reason to hold him, they were going to do just that.

  “Well, the good news is, you’re not going to be here long. Unfortunately, t
he bad news is, you’re going to really have a record now for assault on a Federal officer.”

  The man practically roared in anger.

  Unfortunately for him, they didn't care.

  Outside the room, the men were met by the women. From the looks on their faces, it was easy to see they didn't enjoy the questioning like they had.

  “We have a big problem,” said Emma.

  Croft was alarmed. “What?

  “His wife is outside stirring up the media hounds. It seems she’s telling them we beat the hell out of her husband as we dragged him in. You name it--she’s claiming it. I think I heard waterboarding too.”

  Curtis was offended. “I’m the one with the bruises. I didn't even take a shot at him.”

  Croft rolled his neck, and they all heard the crack of bones. That generally only happened when he was stressed and at his breaking point.

  “I’ll go out and handle the mêlée.”

  They followed behind, getting ready for him to work his magic, or go crazy and school everyone. If it got ugly, Emma would exit the building, drawing their attention. Whenever they appeared together, it stirred up the media into a free-for-all.

  Emma only hoped her husband would stay calm.

  Outside, they found a blonde screaming and acting like a fool.

  “He’s the one!” she yelled, pointing at Curtis.

  Suddenly, all the media was on him, shouting questions left and right.

  Croft simply held up his hands, and they got quiet. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t dealt with him before. He did notice that they were trying to snap pictures of the small wound on his neck. “We’re involved in an investigation, one which I can’t comment on. I will tell you that Mrs. Holmes is very wrong with her accusations. Her husband was detained for attacking an armed Federal agent. When we finish processing him, he will be released.”

  “It’s a witch hunt!” the blonde yelled.

  Once more, he calmed the media down. “It’s no such thing. Mr. Holmes is being detained for attacking someone. We’re within our rights to charge him in these circumstances. We just can’t have people bum rushing FBI agents and tackling them to the ground. There are rules, and Mr. Holmes broke them.”