True Justice

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True Justice Page 38

by Morgan Kelley


  Who wanted this kind of life?

  Greyson would kick his son’s ass if he ever took this route. If he even heard him mutter ‘drugs’, he’d knock the stupid out of him.

  They followed the directions everyone was giving and headed toward the house to find Utz.

  Once inside, the music continued, there were people doing lines of coke on naked women, and it was mayhem.

  If they got caught there, that would be bad. The police, and media, would say he was the supplier.

  Great.

  This got even better.

  Greyson pointed at Heath.

  “Handle it!” he shouted.

  The big man headed toward the radio and big speakers in the corner. With one flip of a switch, he turned the music off.

  Everyone looked over.

  “COPS ARE COMING!”

  That was all he had to say. The rats abandoned ship like crazy. It was funny to watch. They bailed and fast.

  Well, that worked for them. Now they could have some privacy.

  There was a guy sitting in one of the chairs.

  He was drugged up.

  “Hey! Are you Derk?” he asked.

  “Yeah, man, what happened to the party?” he asked, looking around.

  He had an idea.

  When in Vegas, be as illegal as they come...

  “I need to buy a girl. Rosemary sent me here. Who do you have?”

  He laughed.

  “I have a whole lot,” he said, grinning.

  “Talk to me.”

  If the man recognized him, he didn’t let on. Greyson was willing to bet it was the drugs.

  “I have the sweetest piece of ass. I can get her delivered from New Orleans. It’ll take a couple days.”

  Then he realized what he said.

  “Uh, do you have cash?”

  He pulled out his wallet and showed him. There was about a grand in there. He kept it so he could pass it out to people they were trying to save in Vegas.

  “That’ll do. That’s the down payment. If you want to procure the shipment, it’ll be another four K.”

  It made Greyson sick.

  Five thousand dollars was the price tag on a human life? Really? Somehow, he managed to keep his cool.

  “Where do I pick her up?” he asked.

  The man was lighting up a joint.

  “Harbor Boulevard. We have them dropped off. All I have to do is send a text.”

  “To who?”

  “My partner. Hey! You’re asking a shit ton of questions. Are you a cop?”

  “Riley, step out and watch the door for me,” he said.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  “Heath, give it to me.”

  He handed him a silencer out of his pocket. He screwed it into the gun he’d ‘appropriated’, and he smiled.

  “Sadly, Derk, I’m worse than a cop. I’m your judge, jury, and executioner. I got to see what your ‘sale’ did to two girls. I’m not a violent man, but you’ll never go to jail—not in Vegas. You’ll find a way out of this. So, I need to make sure you pay for the Shoshannas, the Mollies, and the Sofias who were damaged.”

  “Hey, man! We can talk.”

  He was done talking. Greyson had never killed anyone who the government didn’t deem guilty of something.

  Was this wrong?

  Yes.

  Then again, so was what he’d done. It was time to get a little Vegas justice for Molly. She’d been so close to being free. She deserved to go home, and not in a body bag.

  “Give me your phone.”

  The man went to start deleting shit.

  It took one shot.

  There was the pop and then nothing.

  He dropped the phone.

  Greyson picked it up, dropped it into his pocket, and unscrewed the silencer.

  “You can keep that one, Mr. C. I got a spare.”

  He still handed it back.

  That was too damn easy. If he kept that silencer, he knew he’d be tempted to do it again. Killing wasn’t easy. Watching what this man had done by selling those women?

  Yeah, it had been worth the stain on his soul.

  He’d carry it.

  “That was for Molly, Shoshanna, and Sofia,” he stated. “That was for the women you sold to Viktor Marchenko. I hope you burn in Hell.”

  He headed for the door.

  “Let’s go. I want to get this phone back after we visit a cop. We have a gala tonight, and I need to make sure I’m presentable.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Then, it occurred to him…

  “Heath, have you ever thought about moving to Vegas?” he asked.

  “Are you offering me a job, Mr. C?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Have your people submit the salary to my people, and let me have a talk with the Blackhawks. I like it here. I don’t have to be good. I was a soldier. You can’t always put that away when you come home.”

  Oh, he was well aware.

  It was almost impossible.

  The sad thing was, until that moment, he’d been good. He’d let Dimitri kill Marianna for him because he wanted to be decent, but he saw what the bad guys were doing.

  They’d upped their game.

  And that meant he would too.

  Outside, Riley was waiting, leaning on the rail. His face said it all. He knew exactly what had gone on inside and why he’d been sent out.

  “Handled?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then I suggest we roll. The druggies saw us. I’d like to keep out of jail.”

  He laughed. “We’re with my attorney right now. She’ll cover for me.”

  Riley didn’t even flinch.

  When in Vegas, it was sink or swim.

  And he didn’t want to drown.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  When Christopher Leonard arrived at the scene, Elizabeth was standing there, and she was ignoring the questions from the reporters.

  Of course, none of them had anything to do with the case and everything to do with her suing the city and making it bankrupt.

  She ignored them.

  They were probably lucky. She looked like she was about to flip her shit. He knew that look.

  He’d seen it before.

  “Lyzee, honey,” he said, getting her attention. The second she saw him, she was focused on him and looked a little less irritated.

  “Doc, I’d love to do the dance today, but I have so much shit on my plate with this gala going on tonight. How about you just get me TOD? We need to skip the foreplay.”

  “That’s my favorite part.”

  She laughed.

  “Yeah, I know. You were always good at foreplay. Today…is not a good day.”

  Chris got it.

  That was his warning.

  She was in investigator mode.

  “I can skip it.”

  “I know how he died. He’s missing the front of his face. Someone took him out from behind.”

  He followed her toward the house, and the techs were busily snapping pictures.

  “Did anyone move him?” he asked one of the techs who was milling around and taking pictures of the scene.

  “No, Doctor.”

  He headed in after slipping into booties.

  “Bullet entry wound at the back of skull at an upward angle. Missing is the top of the skull, and some of his face.”

  “Yippee. Sounds like a fun one.”

  “You’ve had a busy week.”

  She laughed.

  “I know. I can’t wait to go home and get married—again. It’s a good week to get hitched.” Then it hit her. “Please tell me Callen and I are NOT coming back here.”

  Chris laughed.

  She’d been trying to get his honeymoon plan out of them for weeks. She was clueless, and that was how Callen wanted it.

  “No, the trip isn’t to Vegas.”

  “I know Callen already said that, but I needed to make sure. I find too many bodies here. This is
a nightmare. I want a honeymoon with nothing but sex and fun.”

  The techs stared over at her.

  “Yeah, I’m a flagrant hussy who wants to fornicate on her honeymoon. Sue me!”

  They went back to work.

  Chris had to fight not to laugh.

  “Get him onto something protective,” he stated. “He’s picking up fibers from the carpet.”

  He had them roll the dead man onto a tarp so the evidence wasn’t destroyed. He then inserted the liver probe.”

  Chris read it and did the math.

  “Twelve hours.”

  She made a note of it.

  “Okay, my fine ME friend. I’ll catch you later. I have to head to a party tonight.”

  “Oh, I’m coming.”

  She grinned.

  “Two dates. I’m lucky. Such male handsomeness will make a girl’s heart go pitter-pat. Oh,” she said, stopping. “I need a favor.”

  “What?”

  “I need some alone time with Ethan. Callen is getting a whole week. Can you ride with the Crofts?”

  He laughed.

  “Bum chicka bum bum.”

  She winked.

  “Don’t ya know it?” she teased.

  “I can do that for you.”

  “You’re the best, Doc.”

  She saw the techs watching them curiously. Obviously, they’d seen the media rumors of how they had some kinky love fest going.

  Well, when in Vegas, give them something to talk about.

  She leaned down, caught Chris off guard, and gave him a big ol’ kiss.

  When she pulled away, he laughed.

  “You’re insatiable. You left your gum behind, sweetness,” he said, smiling.

  “I know. Happy blowing.”

  He laughed even more as she saluted the techs and headed off the crime scene.

  Ivan just shook his head as all the techs gossiped around them.

  Outside, he hopped into their ride.

  “Well, that was a show. Because his life doesn’t have enough drama, or yours either?”

  She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat. Ivan realized that she actually looked tired. Vegas…the deaths…they were weighing on her.

  He reached for her and touched her hand.

  “Hey, Elizabeth, are you okay?”

  She wasn’t.

  “He looked tired.”

  “Yeah, and he’s tired because you leave bodies all over the freaking place,” he said.

  She glanced over.

  As of that moment, they hadn’t told their security about Chris being sick. He told them they could, but she wanted to tell Ivan first. He was the one who spent the most time with Chris. She needed all-hands-on-deck to help him out.

  Feed him.

  Make him rest.

  It took a village, and hers was stocked with commandos and ex-Marines.

  “He’s sick.”

  Ivan lifted a brow.

  “How sick?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  Honestly, saying the words broke something in her. She didn’t want him sick.

  Ever.

  “How sick is he, Elizabeth?” he asked again, and from her hesitation, Ivan knew it had to be something bad if she wasn’t just saying it. Elizabeth wasn’t one of those people who beat around the bush.

  “He cut himself and picked up hooker HIV as a parting gift. I’m just trying to distract him and keep the media off his ass. If they find out, he’s going to have to leave the FBI.”

  He picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “His secret is safe, Elizabeth. For the record?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re a good person. You are taking the heat and totally look like a cheap hussy, but that gives him that web of protection. That’s definitely something you’d do. I’ll help you keep his secret. What are friends for?”

  She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Her lips lingered.

  “UH, AWKWARD…”

  “Media. I just wanted Blue to see you behaving badly,” she teased, wiping her eyes as she began laughing her ass off at how easily he fell for shit.

  Ivan just laughed.

  And that was Elizabeth Blackhawk behaving badly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Thursday Afternoon

  T racking down Jonathan Helms wasn’t easy. The man worked third shift, and he had a thing about doing his laundry at the local laundromat in the afternoon. By the time they found him, Greyson’s patience was coming to an end.

  He was hungry, irritated, and wanted to get home to his wife, so they could get ready for the evening.

  Together.

  Plus, he needed to get the dead man’s phone to Paris and Tessa. They were going to be babysitting Dimitri that evening, and while they kept him inside, they could go through the phone and see what numbers were being texted.

  Maybe, they’d get lucky and find the dead man’s partner.

  Hopefully.

  “There he is,” Riley said, recognizing the man. “Since this is out in the open, and it’s daylight, maybe you should take it easy on the interrogation front.”

  Greyson glanced over.

  “I did what I had to do. If there’s a problem…”

  Oh, there was.

  “I do have an issue.”

  “I can tell. You’re tense.”

  “What you did,” Riley began, “was pretty shitty. It pissed me off.”

  “I had to…”

  “You sent me out. You told me to go wait outside, and it wasn’t to watch for cops. You don’t trust me.”

  Greyson closed his mouth.

  He assumed…

  Riley didn’t look happy at all.

  “I just thought…”

  He cut his boss off.

  “Well, it was shitty. You trust someone you just met three days ago, no offense, Heath, but you sent me out. You hired me to be your partner in this and work for you. I went into it knowing that the lines would be blurred. I want out if you don’t think I’m trustworthy. If you can’t put your faith in me, we can’t work together.”

  He got it.

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to keep you from being part of something that you wouldn’t like. I know you, Riley. You are a good guy. I’m no longer one of those. Vegas sucked it out of me. I do trust you, or I wouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry I gave you that impression.”

  “I have your back. I signed on, and I’m doing the job. I don’t blame you for what you did. I just can’t work with someone who sends me out for my own good. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He heard what he was saying.

  “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Listen, I’m not your mother, and I work for you now. I’m not uncomfortable with you doing the job to save this city. I get it.”

  “When you said I should take it easy, I assumed you were referring to what I just did.”

  “No, I’m just saying don’t shoot him here in the middle of the busy city. He’s a cop—a shitty one, but a cop nonetheless. If you get caught, there will be a ton of police pressure. I heard about the Mace Bristol mess.”

  He was aware.

  Greyson didn’t want to go back there either, but he had to stand his ground. Vegas was getting worse, and he had to make his presence known.

  They stopped fearing him.

  Well, he was going to make sure that stopped immediately. In this case, fear and intimidation would keep them all alive another day.

  “As your partner in this, I’m watching your back. Handle it more Greyson Croft-like and less Dimitri Gideon-like. That is all I’m saying.”

  He was just like Dimitri, only he’d been trying to hide it behind a badge. Who was he kidding?

  “I don’t like what I did, but you didn’t have to see that girl last night. You didn’t have to look at her and see how he’d cut her eyes, blinding her, left her naked, and fed her dog food once a week. I had to see it. I don’t regret ending Derk Utz. H
e lied on the last case, and he covered for a woman who is peddling flesh to perverts. I’m okay with being the judge, jury, and executioner.”

  Riley understood.

  “I want to stop the animals like that. Don’t send me out. Let me do my job, or why am I here?”

  Greyson calmed down.

  “At Utz’s flop, we risked being seen. Here…there are cameras. We WILL be seen. Just remember that you are not invincible, and Commissioner Raye will use anything against you. Play the game, Greyson. Play it smart.”

  “He’s got a point, Mr. C. I can find this cop later if you need me to handle it.”

  He appreciated Riley being honest.

  Really.

  “I’ll just shake him down. Jonathan Helms will walk out of here alive. I promise. I just need him to take the fear with him back onto the streets. I need him to spread the word. The Crofts are not gone.”

  That was funny.

  Never in his life did he think he’d have to say that to anyone, and here he was. It was all kinds of ironic.

  “Besides, we don’t know that he’s done anything. Just because he’s been to ‘The Pink Kitty’ doesn’t make him an accomplice to this,” Greyson said. “Derk admitted his blame and was proud of it. Let’s see what happens when we shake this man’s tree.”

  They all hopped out.

  Heading to the laundromat, there were only three people inside—one of them a child. That made this all the easier.

  “Blinds, Heath.”

  The big man began pulling them.

  “Riley, escort the patrons out.”

  Everyone looked scared.

  “Ma’am, step out for about ten minutes. You don’t want to see this.”

  She dragged her kid out.

  They focused on Helms.

  He looked scared.

  “Hello, Jonathan, do you know who I am?” Greyson asked. From the man’s face, it was clear that he did. How could he not?

  “Yes, sir.”

  He was a young cop, maybe his mid-twenties. He was able to deduce some things. From his fancy watch and his expensive sneakers, he knew something was up.

  It didn’t jive.

  He wasn’t wealthy, or he wouldn’t be washing his clothes at a laundromat. He’d own a washer at home. So why was he wearing fancy duds?

  Like shoes a drug dealer would own.

  Or a watch like one would own too.

 

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