“I want to see my husband. I don’t trust the FBI! They’re liars and manipulators!”
Croft crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll also point out that this seems to be a protest,” he began, before she cut him off.
“You’re damn right I’m having a protest! I’m voicing my opinion and objecting to the inhumane treatment of an innocent man. In fact, he’s a political prisoner.”
Croft had to fight not to laugh in her face. She was getting a little dramatic. Then again, it went along with her waterboarding comment.
Brynn stepped up and pulled her badge. “Ma’am, I’m with the LVPD, and you don’t seem to have a permit to protest here. You’ll have to move along, or I’ll have to give you a ticket.”
The woman practically screamed in frustration as she stormed away. Half the media followed, and the rest remained focused on them.
“Have a nice day,” Croft said, as they began firing questions at him regarding the killings and his near death experience. Instead of answering, he ignored them as they walked away.
Once inside, he grinned at Brynn. “Can detectives write tickets?”
She snickered. “I have no idea. It seemed like the best option, next to bitch slapping her senseless.”
Croft dropped his arm over Emma’s shoulder as they headed into the bowels of the FBI building. “We need to head to the lab,” he said, leading them down.
“Do you think they found anything?” Emma asked.
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. “If there was something to be found, my team will locate it.”
“I hope so, Grey, because with every day that passes, we’re one step closer to another victim.”
She didn't have to tell him.
He was well aware.
Down in the lab, Greyson was ready for some good news. As usual, when he arrived, everyone was milling around and working at top speed.
No one wanted an irate director in their midst.
“Max, make my day. Tell me what you have,” he said, leaning against the wall, with his wife beside him.
The head lab tech shook his beach bum hair out of his eyes, before picking up a piece of paper. “I figured we’d be getting a visit sooner or later, so I have it all ready for you, sir.”
“I’m ready,” he said, as Briggs pulled out his tablet and got ready.
The man in charge of the lab wasn’t Curtis’s favorite person in the world, but he was trying to play nice. He didn't want to cause issues or problems for his boss down the line.
“We analyzed the new handprint, and true to form, it matches the other ones. It’s common crafter’s paint. You know, like those little bottles that people buy in craft stores to stencil or use on canvas.”
He was aware. “Okay, so I’m guessing that you can’t track it to a source, or you’d be a lot happier.”
“Yeah, exactly. In this city alone, there are four hundred ninety three vendors. It could have been bought online, brought in, shipped…”
Croft got it. “Okay, so what’s next?”
“Boss, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s really it. There’s nothing else we can tell you. Whoever is doing this is going in, leaving the print, and getting out. They don’t appear to be touching anything, let alone hanging out long enough to leave any trace.”
It was frustrating, but it wasn’t his team’s fault. “Okay, I know you’re doing your best.”
“We are, Director. We hate that someone is taking our people down, one by one. It may seem like we’re just lab rats, but we’re still Feds too.”
Croft was well aware. All the men and women he worked with were dedicated to the core. In fact, he was pretty sure they would bleed blue and gold.
Emma finally spoke up, “How about the Booker homicide that you’re processing for me? Have you found anything that might help us find his killer?” she asked, knowing that the next time she ran into cranky Captain Stout, the woman was going to question her on it.
“He didn't have any calls on his cell beforehand, and it appeared that he was working on some paperwork. We had the cyber team sweep his internet, but they didn't find anything out of the ordinary.”
Emma didn't know what else to do at that point.
“Okay, Max. Thank you,” said Croft, leading them out of the lab. Once in the hallway, he pointed at Curtis and Brynn. “We need to go back over everything from each victim. We have three good suspects, but they’re not going to walk in and admit that they’re the killers. Tie something from them to our victims.”
They groaned. It meant more paperwork.
Croft pulled out his wallet and handed Curtis his FBI credit card. “Order lunch for four. We’ll be helping you.”
“Yay!” Curtis said, grabbing the card.
“NOT pizza!”
It was too late. The man was already dragging Detective Westmore down the hallway toward the elevators.
“You know we’re going to be eating pizza again, right?” she said, grinning.
“Yeah, but he did so well in the interview, I can’t help but cave on this one.”
“You’re a softie, Mr. Croft.”
It wasn’t as if he could deny it. Certain people made him that way. “If you tell him, you’re in big trouble.”
She started laughing.
“Emma!”
* * *
Paris picked a little café off the strip to have lunch with Tessa. It was secluded, and that’s exactly what he needed for the talk which was coming.
He really loathed having this obstacle between them, and he feared that with every minute it stayed there, it would irrevocably damage what he was working so hard at building.
After ordering, he finally decided it was time to lay it all on the line.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked up from her iced tea but said nothing. Tessa knew this was coming, and it was just a matter of time before they had to have ‘the talk’.
“I saw the brownie, and your proposal.”
Well, that sucked. Now, not only was she humiliated and blown off, she was forced to have to listen to him try and soothe her feelings. Paris was a sweet man, and Tessa should have known that he wouldn’t let it go.
“It’s no big deal, Paris. I get it. I’m not the kind of girl you bring home to your parents and marry. I’m more the warm your bed type.”
He would have fallen over if he wasn’t sitting down. “What? Wait! Where did that come from? I’m pretty sure I’ve never, ever alluded to anything like that when it came to you.”
“It’s okay that you want to keep us a secret. If I were you, I would too.”
Is that how he made her feel?
“Tess, do you really believe that you’re not good enough to be married to me? After the last couple months together, is that honestly the impression I’ve given you?” He tried to reach for her hand, but she moved it away, so instead he slid closer. Paris couldn’t let her get away from him, not like this. It astounded him that his witchy-eyed woman truly believed she was less than deserving of him. If anything, he was the lucky one.
“Yes. You come from a good family, and I was discarded like trash. That’s an awkward conversation to have to have over Thanksgiving dinner. Pass the cranberries, oh and Tessa’s mother tried to kill her an hour after she was born. Unfortunately, someone found her.”
He stared at her horrified. “Tessa, that makes me want to be sick. Why would you even think I’m capable of thinking something like that, let alone saying it out loud?”
“It’s okay, Paris. You won’t be the first, or the last, man not want to marry me. Some people are unlovable, and I fall into that category.”
Enough was enough. He didn't even want to hear about any other men after him. As far as he was concerned, Tessa Brass was meant to be his for the rest of his life. Obviously, they had some sort of disconnect between them, and he needed to cut this mess off at the pass, before it became worse.
Not that it could happen. It was already a disaster.
Tessa continued, “I assumed that when you told me you loved me that it was real. I shouldn’t have made that leap. It’s all my fault, and if you want me to move out, I will. After all, it’s your home, not mine.”
The tears filled her eyes, and she stared down at her hands in her lap.
That broke his heart, that she didn't see it as their place, and a shared life. “You’re very wrong, Tessa.”
“When two people love each other, that means progressing forward. I now see that I’m not going to ever get that with you. Love doesn’t always mean forever, and I have to accept that. The time I’ve had with you will always be cherished and special.”
It didn't take a profiler to see that her past had made her present a living hell, and that she was ready to cut her losses and make a break for it.
Yeah, he needed to stop this now.
It crushed him that he didn't see this clearer. Tessa needed something permanent, and he completely understood after her life began so chaotically.
He reached into her lap, taking her hand in his. “Tessie, I’d marry you right now if I could.”
A tear broke away.
“Yeah, but? I can feel it coming. In my life, there’s always one.”
Paris took a deep breath. “Tess, I’m not like you. I’m a thinker, worrier, and over planner. I’m not that spontaneous guy who’s ever going to think about a picnic on a roof, or a brownie with a marriage proposal. I can only focus on one thing at a time.”
“Yeah, work.”
“No. That’s not even one of the top five things on my mind. I’m more concerned with your safety. If I give in, and we rush to get married, I’ll risk you.”
She stared at him. “I don’t understand, Paris.”
“At this moment in time, I feel like I need to stand beside you every day we’re at work. I’m not some big strong guy like our boss. I rely on my brain, and I’m very focused. By not marrying you, I can be your partner where it matters most. If I become selfish, and put that one desire first, I could lose you, and that’s unacceptable to me.”
She didn't think he was that focused on it. They were in the FBI, and that was an incredibly dangerous lifestyle.
“I want to see you walk down that isle in some frilly dress. I want to hold you in my arms as we dance together as man and wife. Unfortunately, I want you to come home every night more. In order to have that one thing, I have to be able to sacrifice something else. In our case, I can’t have it all. I have to look at what’s more important and go from there.”
“Paris, you can’t out maneuver fate. You’re overthinking this again.”
“Maybe I am, Tessa, but in my heart, I’m not able to let my selfish need come before the woman I love. I’d rather spend the rest of my life having you, than lose you early. I can’t imagine a day without you. From the second we wake up, you’re there. We have breakfast together. You fix my tie, and then we head out to the danger. The minute we get home at night, I can breathe. The twelve hours in between are hard to endure.”
More tears escaped.
“I’m not ashamed of you. If you want, I’ll call my parents right now and declare my love for you. I’ve already told them about you, Tess, and that’s huge. I’ve never told them about a woman before. You’re it. When the holidays roll around, I plan to bring you home to meet them. We’ve had back to back assignments, and I couldn’t get you there yet. I don’t want you to think that you’re not the most important woman in the world for me. I said it once, but I’ll say it again. I’d die for you, Tessa. I’ve never felt that way about anyone before, and it has nothing to do with us being FBI partners. It has everything to do with you being my better half.”
He wiped a tear with the pad of his thumb.
Before she could speak, he continued, “I’m proud of us as a couple. I’d announce it to the world if I could, but for now, I have this compulsion to keep you safe. Who knows what will happen in the next week, months, or years? All that I can promise is that wedding or not, I’ll be here.”
Her lower lip quivered.
Paris reached into his bag, pulling out a little box. “I know I should be more romantic, but I’m lousy at it. I do have one thing that I’d like to give you.”
She looked up into his robin egg blue eyes.
“This was my grandmother’s. It’s a necklace my grandfather gave her when they got engaged. He couldn’t afford a ring, but he wanted her to see it and remember.” Paris flipped open the old wooden box. Inside sat two gold hearts, linked together. “It’s more than a ring to me. It’s a symbol of how I feel about you. I love you so much, Tess. Will you wear and accept it as a promise of what will one day be in our grasp?”
He held it out, and she stared at it, so overwhelmed with emotion.
“I believe that eventually, we’ll have matching rings, but for now, we have matching hearts.”
She took the box from his hand, delicately removing the treasure.
“My grandmother told me to only give it to the girl I loved. Once you give away your heart, you can’t get it back. I’m giving you my heart, Tess. It’s yours to keep for as long as we both live.”
She placed it around her neck and ran her fingers lovingly over the gold. It was the most precious thing she would ever get in her entire life.
“Be mine, Tess?” he asked, taking her free hand in his. “Love me like I love you.”
Her heart flipped in her chest. Tessa couldn’t imagine loving anyone but the man before her. “You’re very wrong, Paris,” she said.
“About?”
“You’re very romantic, and yes, I’ll be yours until the day I die. I won’t ever leave your side.”
It gave him hope.
“One day, I’ll be the one with the ring, flowers, and down on my knees, Tess. I swear. One day, I’ll make it happen. I’m just asking for some time. Please give me that, and in return I’ll be faithful, loving, and the best man I can be.”
“Oh, Paris,” she said, eyes filling with tears. Tessa believed him, because she could see it in his eyes. Paris Archer was a good and decent guy.
“I love you, Tessa. I promised forever, and I meant it.”
She touched the hearts hanging around her throat. “I love you too, Paris. No matter what happens on this journey. I’ll always be here with you.”
Paris leaned in to place his hand on the back of her neck. Gently, he brought her mouth to his. When their lips met, the vow was sealed. When he released her, Paris stared into her eyes. “No matter what, Tess,” he promised too.
Then, he went back to kissing his girl.
* * *
Thursday Afternoon
The team was hard at work when Paris and Tessa found them in the conference room. There were files all over the place, scribbling on the white board, and everyone was focused.
“Anything new?” Paris asked, entering with Tessa at his side.
“Yeah, I have a killer headache,” stated Emma, rolling her neck to get the tension out.
Brynn spoke up, “I think I may have a direction for us,” she said. “I see something that’s common in all these personnel files.”
“What?” asked Greyson, standing up.
She pointed. “Each one of our dead agents saw the same doctor.”
Croft let out a sigh, partially in disappointment, and the rest in wariness. “We all have to see the same doctor if we get hurt, or are put on leave. Doctor Theodore Havers is the FBI physician on staff.”
“Well hell,” she muttered, closing up the file.
Emma took it from her partner and looked over all the information. “I think we should follow up tomorrow. It’s a small thread, but we can’t afford to overlook anything now.”
He was willing to do just about anything at that point.
“Agreed,” stated Croft, returning to his seat. “Good catch, Brynn.”
“Then, I’m next, and you’re not going to like it.” Curtis pulled up a copy of Phillip Cahill’s cell records. “When I trace the
last call into his cell, it traces back to one of those carriers which sells burn phones.
“So, it’s a dead end.”
He pushed the papers away. “Yep, and a total waste of the last two hours that I’ll never get back.”
Paris and Tessa took a seat.
“How was your interview?” Croft asked, looking back and forth between his two agents. They looked better than they had that morning. Earlier, he’d been able to pick up the slight hum of them being off balanced.
Tessa began laughing. “Oh, Marcus White was something.”
He leaned forward as Paris began telling them everything that had happened. By the time he finished breaking it down, all the women in the room were appalled.
“He slapped her on the ass?” Emma asked. Her voice said it all.
Everyone in the room started laughing.
“What?” She didn't get it.
Curtis spoke up, sharing what he knew everyone was thinking, “The boss man slaps you on the ass all the time, so why do you look so offended?”
She shrugged. “When he does it, it’s out of love. Greyson isn't being abusive or mean. He’s teasing me or showing me that he’s thinking about me. Never would he lay his hands on me in anger. That’s crossing a line.”
He was glad his wife saw it that way. “Besides, she’d kick my ass. A husband who wants a long and happy life, needs to learn that, and fast.”
Leaning over, she gave him a kiss. “Yes, I would.”
Croft forced himself to focus on the agents and not his wife’s hand on his thigh. She was writing incredibly racy things on it, in the hopes of making him nuts. “Give me your opinion on Marcus White.”
Paris thought about it. “He’s got violent tendencies and definitely doesn’t like women, or the FBI. When Tessa spoke, he wanted to put her in her place. I can honestly see him strangling Leslie Williams to death, easily. For him, he wouldn’t think twice about disposing of a woman who got in his way.”
Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 22