Now they needed to go through it all with a fine-tooth comb. Elizabeth was accustomed to working with a good team, but this team…
They were tenacious.
They were doing this for Emma.
“Anything at the gala scene?” Dimitri asked.
“Heath Spencer only had that knife. His car was found with his luggage in it. He was going to make a run.”
“Anything else?”
Ethan fielded this.
“His cell had calls from a burner. He called him boss in texts.”
“It’s going to be that scumbag Raye,” Paris said. “He’s been playing puppet master with Heath for a while.”
Chris added, “As they were bagging him up, his eyes were bloodshot, and there was a trace of powder in his nose. He was riding some cocaine high.”
Great.
Elizabeth was glad she ended him.
“When’s that autopsy?”
“I passed it off to Doctor Stone. He cut out early. He’ll do a good job.”
She trusted her ME. If Chris was passing it off, it was because he simply couldn’t do it.
“Uh, can we call him dead guy number eight?” Heath the bodyguard asked. “He’s an asshole for hurting a woman.”
Chris Leonard laughed.
“The dead guy ‘number eight’ part amused me,” he said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed. “That might be a record.”
She was aware and not really proud of it.
“Let’s keep looking. See if any names are listed in those two books that might match up with someone on our suspect list.”
She pointed at the VERY short list.
“Basically, Scott Downing and Jonathan Helms. They are the only two people we have. Everyone else is dead.”
“If we think it’s an ex-partner of Devin Barosi, that should narrow it down—to one.”
Yeah, she was aware.
Scott Downing.
“Ethan, can I talk to you?” she asked, as he followed her to the kitchen.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Dimitri handled a situation.”
“Which one?”
“Stephanie Phelps. She’s dead. I need her to get swept into the FBI web. I don’t want Commissioner Raye anywhere near it. If there are cameras, neighborhood watch cameras, anything…can you get them?”
“I can.”
He went to handle it.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Before she died, she gave up Storm St. Clair’s location. She’s in New Orleans, and the buyer’s name will be in that book.”
He was glad.
“Perfect. I’ll alert Dakota, Rogue, and Zayn for extraction. They’ll get her out and keep her hidden until we fix this sex trade mess.”
He went to walk away.
“Wait.”
He stopped again.
“What?”
“Rosemary Harrington. Does the last name sound familiar?”
He thought about it.
“Help me out here. I’m running on fumes.”
“Dakota helped Danforth Harrington find Stella and they are looking for Mercedes.”
He stared at her.
Then the lightbulb went on.
“Holy shit.”
“Do we know if they are related, or is this one of those really bizarre coincidences? His daughter abducted and sold into sex trafficking, and someone with the same last name runs a ring…?”
“I’ll check. If he is involved, we’ll bag him. He played the FBI. There are repercussions for that. He likely didn’t think we’d stumble across the case in Vegas.”
She gave him a kiss.
“Get her extracted. ASAP,” she said. “We’ll have to keep it quiet, since Storm, if she’s still alive, will have seen it all. We need her. The hunters need to get her alive and keep her safe until we can get to her.”
He understood.
They were going to end this.
Once and for all.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
She was beat.
Poppy Wayne didn’t sleep, and now she was babysitting a sexy Russian. A part of her wanted to go inside and do it there. He’d likely let her in.
That kiss…
She was focused on it.
Dimitri Gideon had incredibly soft, full, sexy lips. She could spend hours on them.
Only, she couldn’t.
Cop.
Bad guy.
Yeah, she was screwed.
So, she sipped her coffee and watched Sky Villa. It was day two of stakeout. Her boss didn’t know. Her partner didn’t know…
She didn’t know why she was doing it.
Then she went back to that kiss.
Yeah, she knew.
And she was a freaking idiot.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Friday Morning
Six A.M
Sam wanted his dad. He’d had nightmares all night. He’d pictured him dead or in a bed like Emma. He knew he needed to get to him.
He was one of the men in the family.
He was a Gideon.
He needed to protect his dad while he was hurt.
So, he did what he needed to do. He shook the gunkles, Curtis, and Kat. Everyone was asleep, so he grabbed the key to the main elevator, entered the code he wasn’t supposed to know, and rode it to the ground floor.
Once there, he picked a lock, jacked a bike that was chained there from one of the workers, and headed out.
He knew his way to Sky villa.
He’d get there and then save his dad.
Then everything would be all right.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
The file came through early. It was in his hands by six in the morning, and Ethan was glad. He scanned it, reading over it. Then, he reread it again.
That couldn’t be right.
They pulled everyone who was working undercover after Mace Bristol had died.
This was bad.
He carried it over to his wife and handed it to her. She scanned it and saw the name.
She compared it to the FBI’s list of names. There was definitely something wrong.
“What the fuck?” she asked, looking at Ethan. “How does this go without anyone knowing? Payroll? Was it all Robert Lee?”
Ethan knew it couldn’t be.
“His secretary did payroll. She did all the paperwork. He couldn’t answer a question. He might have been taking kickbacks from this, but it looks like Linda was part of it.”
The net was closing.
“Get her brought in.”
The conversation had everyone’s attention. They were watching and listening.
“What’s going on?” Paris asked, drinking his tenth cup of coffee.
Ethan explained, “When the local police requested people to help them find the corruption in their ranks, we lent them a couple of agents.”
“Yeah, you put Mace Bristol under,” Tessa stated. “He was later killed by someone.”
Dimitri said nothing.
He’d cop to a lot, but not that one. Yes, he did it, but he wasn’t an idiot.
“Well, we just figured out where our wayward FBI agent is who was partnered up with Devin Barosi.”
“Where?” Tessa asked.
“The LVPD. When Director Lee pulled them, he didn’t pull them all. His secretary is in on it too. She has to be,” Elizabeth stated.
“Please don’t tell me it’s Poppy Wayne,” Dimitri said, holding his breath. If it was, he’d puke.
He was getting some sparks from her, and he’d been thinking about that kiss all night long. Then again, it would be his luck. His track record sucked.
“No, she’s actually a cop. Who isn’t, a cop, is her partner. His real name is Marshall Cameron. He’s under as Hunter Dietrich. He was partnered with Devin Barosi when he worked undercover at ‘The Titty Corral’.”
Dimitri knew what that meant.
She was in trouble.
Elizabeth shook her head.
“We need to get our asses geared up, and we need to find us a Fed. We have his address, and we will bring him in.”
“WE?” Ethan said. “There’s you and three security guys.”
She laughed.
“And you. Saddle up, Director. You’re coming in. It’s early enough that the media will be at the hospital not here. You won’t be too much of a sexy spectacle.”
He rubbed his hands together.
Ivan was NOT as amused.
“You can’t be serious. You’re taking the Deputy Director of the FBI to a possible gun fight?”
“He’s got excellent aim. Unless you’re a deer. He has to mow them down.”
“Elizabeth!”
She smiled.
“Suit up, boys, we’re going in.”
“Does that mean we can go to bed?” Tessa asked, yawning. “You Feds have this, and we just need Dimitri to stay inside.”
“Hit the hay.”
They all scattered.
Dimitri put his feet up and thought about Poppy. She wasn’t involved.
That was good.
He licked his lips.
That kiss—the one in the chapel—had given him some hope. Maybe, she was that miracle he hoped for all of his life.
Then he thought about it.
She was a cop.
And he was a killer.
How could that possibly not go wrong?
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Sam was almost there. In the near distance, he saw Sky villa. He saw the big shiny building looming ahead. It had taken him twenty minutes of some hard pedaling, but he was there. He was going to get his father and keep him company.
And they said he was just a kid?
As he dumped his bike on the side of the building, he knew he was going to get in trouble for this stunt, but he didn’t care. His father mattered.
Now he’d be safe.
Everyone told them he couldn’t handle it. Well, he’d been right, and they were wrong. He told them he wasn’t a kid, and this was nothing.
He was tough.
Sam proved it too.
He was a Gideon.
As he went to walk around the building, he saw a shadow. When he turned, he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head.
And he fell.
There was laughter.
And he was scared.
Maybe Sam wasn’t so big after all.
Now he really wanted his dad.
Poppy saw a man get out of his ride, and he sort of resembled Dimitri. They had the same nose, the cheekbones, and when she looked through her binoculars, she saw the eyes.
Holy shit!
It was Viktor Marchenko.
But what was he doing?
She saw him heading toward the child who had just ridden up. She watched him to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt the kid. She didn’t recognize him, but this man was a sicko.
When he struck him on the back of the head, and then tossed him in the trunk, she nearly got out to stop him.
Only, she saw the gun tucked into his waistband.
Well, this was bad.
She picked up her phone.
Shit!
If the police surrounded him, Viktor might hurt the boy. She couldn’t let that happen. Then she’d also have to explain why she was sitting there.
All of that would suck.
So, Poppy did the next best thing.
She followed him.
After she saw where Viktor went, she’d figure out who the little kid was, and why the killer was taking him.
Was he bait?
But for Dimitri?
This was confusing as hell.
And she knew one thing.
She couldn’t lose him. The boy’s life depended on it.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Hospital
When she opened her eyes, there was snoring. There was a nurse standing above her, and there were two men holding her hands. She could tell who they were without moving by the sounds of their snores.
One was her husband.
One was Chris.
The nurse touched her lips to signal she’d be quiet, and then she checked Emma’s vitals.
It looked like it was time to pull the tube out.
Emma nodded.
The nurse removed it, and it took everything she had not to cough up a storm. That wouldn’t make her chest feel good at all. Somehow, she managed.
When the woman left, she glanced back and forth at the two men.
Both were out cold, and both had their big feet on her bed. She was squished.
Seriously?
She was the patient.
“How about some room on my own damn bed?” she whispered.
They both jumped up.
Greyson stared down at her with tears in his eyes. The sound of her voice was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life—even if it was all scratchy and soft.
“Oh, God!”
He kissed her gently on the mouth.
“I thought I lost you, and then I didn’t know if you’d wake up.”
“My chest hurts,” she muttered.
He left kisses across it.
“We’ll fix you up.”
“Is the baby okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he reassured. “He’s strong like his mommy. He’s a fighter, and thank God, so are you.”
She closed her eyes.
That was all she wanted.
Her son was safe.
“Can you get me some water, Grey? And some pain meds. My chest is on fire.”
He rushed out.
As soon as he was gone, she focused on Chris.
“Hey,” he said, standing there. He was waiting for her to kick his ass out.
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry. If I were there…”
“Shut up and kiss me. I can’t come to you.”
He did.
He softly kissed her, and it brought tears to her eyes.
“God, Em. You are a disaster.”
She felt like one.
“Are you back?” she asked. “I can’t chase. I’m going to be busy recouping. Can you hold off until I’m better?”
He touched her cheek.
“Nat wasn’t going to marry me. I wasn’t the one for her. I read it in her journal.”
“I’m sorry.”
He squeezed her hand.
“I’m not. She taught me a lot. I can get through this. I’m stronger than I thought.”
Emma squeezed his hand back.
“How about we recoup together? Your heart and my heart?” she asked.
That sounded perfect.
Greyson wandered back in.
“It’s coming, baby.”
He rested his head gently against her chest. Her heart was strong. It was beating.
It was his.
“Here,” he said, slipping her rings back onto her finger. “You might want these.”
“Yeah, I do. What did I miss?”
He laughed.
“Uh, Dimitri hobbled in and took control. He’s back at the security helm.”
She listened.
“Chris is back,” he stated.
“I am.”
She noticed.
“We’re going to be okay.”
She didn’t doubt it. It looked like her getting hurt wasn’t only a bad thing. It helped bring the family back.
For that, she was grateful.
“Commissioner Raye…,” she began.
“We’re going to take him down. As soon as you’re home, ‘Aquarius’ is back in operation, and we’re going to find his missing wife. We have a lot of work to do.”
“I’m in,” said Chris. “After I play nurse. I can’t wait to drag Emma to PT too.”
She groaned.
“This is going to suck,” she muttered.
Both men sat down, and they were bo
th all smiles.
Nah.
This was going to be a second chance.
They were going to do it right.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Dimitri was out cold when his phone chimed. He’d just fallen asleep when it went off. With his good hand, he picked it up. It might be news about Emma.
Instead, it was Sam’s phone. On the screen was the most horrific thing he’d ever seen.
It was his son in the trunk of a car.
Not moving.
To make it worse, it was accompanied with the most chilling of messages.
‘It looks like my brother has a son of his own. You kept that from me. Now I know. Meet me ALONE at the Croft home in the desert. We need to have a little meeting. You and me. His life for yours. Don’t bring a gun or he dies. See you soon, brother. It’s time for this to end.’
This was bad.
Dimitri knew that the second he showed up, he was dead. He could only hope Sam would live. It was doubtful.
Only, he had to go.
So, he was going to do what his brother asked.
No gun.
Alone.
He left his phone sitting on the table. This was the end of the line. He was going to die for his son. And he only hoped he could take Viktor out in the process.
Or Kat would be next.
And then Sadie.
Viktor wouldn't stop.
Not until all the Gideon’s were done.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Terrace Glen
She watched him tie the boy to a chair in the kitchen. He was crying and begging for his life. He hit him, and that pissed Poppy off. She thought about shooting him, but her nine-millimeter wouldn’t cleanly break the glass. It might refract.
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