Mob Justice

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Mob Justice Page 8

by Kelley, Morgan


  She was an investment banker.

  He was the cop.

  Jeffrey Raye hedged his bets and put all his eggs in one basket when it came to her. It was almost as if he’d expected her to die early…

  Well, there was a weird coincidence.

  Abby hated him, and she told her sister, Libby, all the time to lose him.

  Only, she would brush it off.

  When they had met, supposedly, it was a whirlwind romance. Only, Abby saw the change. She’d bet money on it that her sister regretted her choices.

  No.

  Her sister hated it.

  She hated every second of it.

  Abby, on the day her sister went missing, had told the investigating officers all of that.

  She told every cop that she spoke to about him regarding the bruises she’s seen on her sister’s neck and the way she told her their life was behind closed doors.

  And it didn’t matter.

  None of it mattered.

  They didn’t listen, and honestly, she wasn’t shocked. The boys had each other’s backs. It was the cops against the world, especially if one of them were in trouble.

  It broke Abby’s heart.

  Libby went missing and the cops never closed the case. They’d given up on her.

  They’d let her become a cold case.

  Truthfully, Abby wanted to hire someone, but she didn’t have the money to do it. She wasn’t rich. Her husband had left her with the kids, and he ran off with his secretary.

  His floozy.

  His whore.

  Abby barely had money to pay for braces. She had to beg her ex to do the right thing, so her kid would have nice teeth and not be picked on by the kids at school.

  It was humiliating.

  Degrading.

  And she didn’t doubt her ex-husband loved every second of her begging for scraps for their kids.

  He was sick like that.

  Then, everything changed.

  She got a call.

  She was scared when she heard the name. The woman on the other end of the call said it, and the mere mention of it scared her shitless.

  Greyson Croft was a power player in Vegas. He was trouble, and she was worried that somehow, her ex-husband had gotten her into some shit mess.

  It was just like him—to terrorize her.

  Or worse yet, had her brother-in-law called him and asked him to scare her? Jeffrey randomly checked in like that lover you regretted.

  Yeah, she regretted her sister ever finding that asshole. He was like a bad penny. He kept turning up.

  Now here she was, standing in this bar, and her heart was thundering in her chest.

  As the woman, dressed like someone who worked there, headed her way, she prayed she didn’t pass out.

  Abby wasn’t a confrontational person. In fact, she was the mousy one. Libby had been the badass one that everyone noticed and gravitated to.

  She was fun and lit up a room, and yet, she went missing and no one saw a thing.

  It likely wasn’t a coincidence.

  “Are you Abby McCoy?” the hostess asked, smiling brightly at her.

  She nodded in terror.

  “Mr. Croft is waiting for you.”

  Those words freaked her out.

  She touched the woman’s arm, hoping she wouldn’t think she was an idiot, but she needed some reassuring.

  “Is he nice? Am I in trouble?” she asked. “Please, I think I may have a heart attack. He won’t hurt me, right?”

  She looked pale.

  That worried Marie.

  “Mr. Croft is a doll. He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” she offered, but that didn’t seem to persuade the woman.

  At all.

  It looked like she was about to pass out.

  “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you something with some sugar in it, and we’ll get you better before you speak to them. You look like you’re ready to drop.”

  Oh, she was.

  “Thank you. Please.”

  She led the woman to a table and grabbed a waitress, who was passing by.

  “She needs some tea with honey. Hurry.”

  The woman headed off.

  “Stay right here. I’ll get you a muffin. You can get some food in you. You’re shaking.”

  She nodded and tried to breathe.

  It wasn’t easy to avoid this panic attack. She was wracked with fear and nerves. This was Greyson Croft. They called him ‘The Devil’ on the television, and she was sure that wasn’t just a name given in jest.

  He was dangerous. Abby could tell by those soulless gray eyes and the scar on his cheek.

  He was the mob.

  Meanwhile, Marie headed to the back room to give Greyson Croft the heads up. Inside, she found Chris and Greyson having coffee. She hated to bother them, but this was urgent.

  They had a problem.

  “Sir, your appointment is here.”

  “Send her back, Marie.”

  “I can’t. She’s about to pass out. She’s scared shitless about this meeting. She’s whiter than a sheet. I have her getting some sugar, and we’re trying to calm her down before she meets with you.”

  He laughed.

  “I didn’t even do anything this time,” Greyson stated.

  “It’s your reputation, sir. You’re scary.”

  It was Chris’s turn to laugh.

  “I know I quake in fear when I’m stealing kisses from your wife…”

  “Shut it, or you’ll be on Dimitri duty. How would you like to make out with him?”

  “YAY!” Marie said, and then she covered her mouth.

  Greyson laughed.

  All the woman loved Dimitri. It was that Russian persona. It still amazed him that he’d had to buy hookers.

  Seriously.

  “I’ll go help her calm down,” Greyson stated.

  Chris got up, but Greyson stopped him.

  “Chris, stay. You’re worse than me.”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, yeah, they talk about me on the news all the time. Oh, wait…that’s you. I’ll go. I’m good with freaked out women. I used to deal with detectives—not the actual women, but the men. They were pussies.”

  Greyson figured he was right. Chris likely could handle the weeping and freak out better. Truth be told, that shit didn’t go over well with him. He was accustomed to Emma.

  She didn’t freak out easily.

  Chris headed out.

  Outside the room, he saw the woman Marie was referring to. It was easy. She was the only one who looked about ready to keel over.

  Marie was clucking over her.

  “I’ve got this.”

  Chris sat down.

  “Hey.”

  She stared at him.

  “Are you a doctor?” she asked. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “No, I’m Mr. Croft’s associate.”

  That one sentence did the OPPOSITE of what he’d planned. She went a shade lighter—if that were possible.

  “Why are you so scared?” he asked. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

  “It’s Greyson Croft. I only came because I want to find my sister. Jeffrey told me if I ever made his life hell, he’d make sure I paid. He’s a cop. I can’t…”

  She looked clammy.

  There were beads of perspiration on her lip.

  He knew what that meant.

  Chris pushed her head between her knees to keep her from passing out.

  “Breathe.”

  She did.

  “I know for a fact that he’s a nice guy. Don’t believe everything you hear about him, okay? Give him a shot. You might be pleasantly surprised.”

  She tried to nod.

  “We want to help you find your sister, but you’re going to have to keep an open mind about him. Ignore what you’ve heard. The media lies.”

  “Okay,” she squeaked.

  He kept her head down for a few seconds.

  “Better?”

  “Yes.”

>   He let her sit back up, and a muffin appeared.

  “Let’s go back, I’ll carry your muffin, and you can just take it easy. We’d talk out here, but we don’t want anything to get back to Jeffrey.”

  That seemed logical to her. After all, he was a sneaky rat bastard.

  Chris stood and offered her his hand.

  She stared at him.

  It made him laugh.

  “I’m not going to kill you. You can relax. I was only going to help you up, so you didn’t fall.”

  She tentatively reached for his hand. When she took it, his fingers reassuringly closed around hers.

  “Steady?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  That was good. Chris knew she was going to have to give them the majority of their information. She was their only link except for Jeffrey Raye, and he would be of no use.

  “Is he really nice?” she asked.

  Chris knew who she meant.

  “Yes, Greyson is, and he’s not upset. We just want to find your sister and end Jeffrey’s reign of terror in Vegas. I promise that you’re safe here.”

  She listened and let him lead her.

  God!

  She hoped so.

  When she entered the room, Greyson was there, and he’d taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves as he tried to look less scary.

  Normally, he wanted to give one kind of impression, but this wasn’t that time.

  It wasn’t time to scare anyone. He knew he needed to be the normal Greyson that his family saw.

  After all, she was important to this case. They’d tracked her down, and she was brave enough to show.

  He didn’t need to intimidate her.

  He stood when he saw her.

  “Ms. McCoy, thank you so much for meeting with me,” he said, putting on his warmest smile.

  Greyson could charm the ladies.

  He hadn’t tried, since marrying Emma, but she’d forgive him this one time. This woman looked scared stupid.

  That said a lot about his reputation in Vegas.

  He held out his hand and shook hers.

  “Please have a seat. Would you like something else to eat? A muffin isn’t a meal, and it’s lunchtime. Do you like burgers? They make a really good one here. I was about to order one for myself and Chris.”

  She looked skeptical.

  “Uh, okay.”

  He pointed at the chair.

  “Take a rest. This is informal. I’m sorry that you’re scared. That wasn’t my intention. I would have come to you, but I’m followed by the media and Jeffrey Raye’s goons. My best bet to talk to you was to have you come to me. I apologize for any inconvenience.”

  She sat.

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  Abby was wary, but she tried to keep an open mind. No one was being mean, and so far, she wouldn’t mind eating. She’d skipped breakfast.

  Greyson smiled at the hostess.

  “Marie, we need three burgers, fries, and since my wife is NOWHERE near me, I am going to have a shake. Extra chocolate. Chris?”

  “Strawberry.”

  They looked at Abby.

  “Vanilla. I like vanilla.”

  Marie hurried off.

  Abby couldn’t believe she was going to eat burgers and have a shake with the man across from her. She hoped she had the money to cover her portion of the bill.

  Greyson waited for Marie to leave before he focused on the woman before him.

  “Okay, so while we wait for some food, let’s get some of this out of the way.”

  She braced for what was coming.

  “May I call you Abby?”

  “Mr. Croft, I’ve seen you on the TV. You can call me whatever you want.”

  He laughed.

  He got that a lot.

  “Yeah, I’m notorious.”

  Chris snorted.

  It was time to get down to business.

  “Okay, Abby, call me Greyson. This is informal, and you’ve already met my friend here.”

  She nodded.

  Croft figured she was calm enough.

  “Here’s why I needed your help, Abby. Commissioner Jeffrey Raye has been trying to make my life miserable for a while now. My wife was at a gala with me, and we are pretty sure he hired someone to try and kill her.”

  Oh, she wasn’t shocked.

  Abby wished she was, but she really wasn’t—not when it came to her brother-in-law.

  “I saw. I hope your wife is okay. They said it was a miracle she lived. I mean…I’m sorry.”

  He patted her hand.

  Greyson was well aware. He still had that deep-seated fear when it came to her. There were a few times he woke with night sweats as he feared she was really gone.

  As of yet, he still wasn’t able to have sex with her. Greyson was too afraid that her heart would stop, and she’d die.

  It was a loop of constant terror, and Jeffrey Raye would pay for making him live it day in and day out.

  His days were numbered.

  “It was a miracle. I got damn lucky. I’d be lost without her. Anyway, I need to take him down.”

  Her eyes got huge.

  It made him laugh—Chris too.

  “Not as in killing him, Abby. I mean as in legally find a way to get him out of that office. He doesn’t deserve to ride that desk. He’s a disgrace to the badge.”

  Oh, Greyson knew that part of that was a huge ass lie. If he could prove Raye was behind the attack on his wife, he was a dead man.

  Period.

  Croft continued, “The FBI, the office I worked for, has given me information to begin the process of taking him down. What they told me is connected to your sister’s disappearance, and that is why we need your help.”

  She relaxed a little.

  It sounded legit.

  Nothing the man had said so far made her feel nervous about helping them.

  “Really? The FBI wants to help? Are you just blowing smoke up my ass, Mr. Croft?” she asked.

  “Greyson,” he reminded her, and then he pulled out his phone.

  And dialed.

  It didn’t take long for Elizabeth to pop onto the screen and give him a smile.

  “Yo, Greyson. Did Ethan land?”

  He held the phone, so Abby could see it. Again, her eyes went huge when she saw who he was talking to.

  “Elizabeth, I’m not sure. I knew we had a flight with the cargo,” he said, not giving too much away. While he would trust Abby McCoy to a point, he wouldn’t with his family or their personal lives.

  That was off limits.

  Dimitri’s personal business was theirs, and theirs alone.

  “I need your help with clarifying some things for a meeting I’m having,” he said.

  “Sure. Shoot. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m talking to the sister of Libby Raye—Commissioner Raye’s sister-in-law. She’s afraid I’m going to kill her. Can you maybe reassure her? Everyone knows you’re a Fed.”

  He moved the phone fully, so Abby’s face replaced his on the screen.

  “Hey! I’m Elizabeth.”

  Abby couldn’t believe it.

  The woman on the screen was practically a celebrity. She was in the news more than Greyson Croft.

  Abby couldn’t believe this day.

  “Oh my God! I know. I’ve seen you on the TV. You wear really gorgeous dresses.”

  “Aww, shucks. Thanks! My husband picks them out for me, so I don’t look like a homeless person. You should thank him, not me. As for the men near you, I personally vouch for Greyson. Don’t buy what you’ve seen. He’s one of the good guys. We just need to find your sister, so we can get that scumbag Raye out of office. That’s all.”

  Abby felt a million times better. If Elizabeth Blackhawk was vouching for the man, he had to be on the up and up.

  There was that relief.

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  “Don’t worry, darlin’, it’s all good. I promise. You have kids, don’t you?
” she asked.

  The woman nodded.

  “Yeah, I have two boys.”

  Elizabeth laughed. She had that plus some.

  “I have kids too,” Elizabeth said as she turned her phone. There, low and behold, were a flock of Natives running amuck.

  Kids were a bridge to another person. They would make strangers feel comfortable. It showed Elizabeth knew about her struggles.

  It made her relatable.

  “From one mother to another, you have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

  She was so glad.

  “Thank you. Your kids are adorable.”

  Elizabeth laughed.

  “They are maniacs, and I’m being held hostage by them,” she teased.

  Greyson was enthralled with what he was seeing. She was badass at work and was letting a bunch of kids crawl all over her. He wanted that.

  Greyson wanted a brood.

  Elizabeth reassured the woman further.

  “They’ll take care of you! Hey, Grey, when you see my husband, make sure he catches that flight back. We have things to do.”

  “I will, Elizabeth. Have a good night.”

  She saluted and hung up.

  Greyson put his phone away.

  Now that he’d cleared that up…

  “See? I’m not as nefarious as I seem. I really am just a good guy. I want to stop assholes from running loose in this city, and Raye is at the top of the list.”

  Abby glanced over as Marie came in carrying three burgers and enough fries to make a potato avalanche.

  “Marie, you are a saint. If my wife smells them on me…,” he began.

  “I’ll tell her I tripped, and you luckily caught them with your mouth.”

  He laughed.

  “You are the best.”

  “Oddly, I’ve been told that before,” she teased about her past profession before being saved by Dimitri from being a prostitute.

  Marie headed out.

  “Have some burger,” Greyson stated, as they began eating theirs.

  “I’m just so confused. I don’t know what to do with all of this.”

  “You put the bun on top, you pick it up, and you take a bite,” Greyson stated, trying to keep it light. It was clear this woman had some issues.

  She was broken.

  “I meant about you—not the burger. I know how to eat one of those. I have two boys.”

  Greyson finished chewing and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin before placing it on his lap.

  “You don’t trust men, do you?” he asked.

 

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