Justice is Dead (Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 7)

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Justice is Dead (Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 7) Page 16

by Morgan Kelley


  “You two deserved it.”

  “Hey! I want a trip for a month,” Curtis said, joking around.

  As if timed, Greyson entered the room. “We paid off your student loan, I bought you a car, and you have free room and board. Want to swap for a one month trip?”

  He grinned. “No, Dad.”

  “Curtis,” he warned.

  Paris really missed being around them. There was so much laughter and love with the people they worked with, and they made life light. Besides, they were all close, and that meant more family. That’s what he wanted for Tessa, since she always felt like an orphan.

  It was the gift that kept on giving.

  Greyson hugged Tessa and then offered one to his profiler, but before he could lean down, Paris stopped him.

  “Move back a few feet.”

  He did as he was asked.

  Slowly, Paris pushed himself out of the wheelchair and stood. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to take a few steps. Just as he was about to stumble, Greyson caught him.

  “That’s the best thing I’ve seen today,” he said, hugging the man. “You’ve been working out.”

  “Yep. Next week is recertification. I’ve been working out every day. I’m ready.”

  He helped him back to his wheelchair.

  “So, boss, what’s the case?” Tessa asked.

  He sat behind his desk.

  “This one is going to be a tough one, and we needed people we trust to have our backs.”

  “We are those people,” Tessa said, taking a seat on the arm of the couch. “What are we working on now?”

  Emma continued, knowing this was going to surprise them.

  Hell!

  She was shocked by it.

  “We’re hunting Dominic Marianna to bring him to justice.”

  They both whistled.

  “We have two bodies that may have been left by him, and we’re going to start working this case from twenty years ago until we can pin their deaths on him.”

  Curtis handed Paris the list that Emma had ‘inherited’, so he could check it out.

  “A lot has gone on since you’ve been gone,” Emma said. Then, she told them everything. Both Paris and Tessa listened, never once interrupting them.

  From the looks on their faces, you could tell it was going to be a game changer.

  The FBI had been trying to take down Marianna for years. Make that a full decade.

  “This won’t be easy,” Tessa stated. “With all of us working it collectively, we might just pull it off.”

  Yeah, or die trying.

  “We know. All we have are the bodies, and hopefully, we can dig up some witnesses. They may have not come forward years ago, but now…they may feel more secure. The FBI is willing to offer them protection with the US Marshalls. I’ll get them into the witness protection program for anyone who can help us out.”

  Tessa took the file from her husband.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “You and Curtis are going to help with the interviews. Paris, we need that gray squishy matter between your ears,” Croft stated. “I need to get into the mind of a mob man, so we can take his empire apart one brick at a time.”

  “I can do that,” he offered.

  “Steele is going to be working on the bodies as we pull them from the ground. All we know is that Marianna used someone to kill them. I don’t think he’d get his hands dirty. That’s not his thing.”

  No one thought he would.

  “If we can find a way to tie them to him, we’re set. That’s our goal.”

  “We can do this,” Tessa said. “It’s just another case. If we don’t focus on who we’re going after, we’ll get there.”

  “This case is harder,” Paris stated. “We know who killed them. Now we have to prove it, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he’s had time to hide it. It might be damn hard to get a jury to convict him. These killings were decades ago.”

  They already thought about that.

  Any defense attorney, like Kenneth James, would play the time frame card to make any witnesses look incompetent.

  “He’s coming unglued,” Emma said.

  When they all looked at her husband, she laughed.

  “No! Not him! I meant Dominic Marianna. We have the Spring Fling this weekend. What will happen if we provoke him, Paris? Will he lash out at us?”

  He thought about it. “He’s definitely going to strike at you.”

  Croft grinned.

  That was exactly what he wanted him to do. He wanted to rattle the man’s cage so badly that he couldn’t think straight. Then he’d screw up.

  “What do you want us to do?” Tessa asked. “I’m ready to start.”

  Curtis gave her a fist bump.

  His partner was back from her love fest, and they were going to hit the ground running. He loved working with Tessa. She was a damn good Fed.

  Greyson dialed Dimitri’s phone. When he answered, he jumped right in, not missing a beat.

  “What do we have?”

  “We found two people for you,” he offered. “I’m going to assume that the widow was of no help.”

  “Oh, you have no idea.” He spared him the details since it was Steele’s private life. He wasn’t going to turn it into a spectacle.

  “I figured as much. We found the woman who was likely banging the boss on the side. Her name is Vonda Herron.”

  “That’s his secretary,” Emma said. “That was the name Camille Bentley gave us.”

  “Well, the IRS records have her down as his secretary for quite a few years, up to when he went missing.”

  It was good to know they were getting down to business.

  “By the way, this tablet is like taking a kid to the candy store. I was able to look up all kinds of things,” he teased.

  “Jesus, Dimitri! I hope it wasn’t porn like Curtis looks up.”

  They could hear Katerina laughing in the background.

  “Really?” Curtis asked. “Do you seriously hate me?”

  Greyson grinned at him. The boy was all tied up in woman knots, and it did his heart good.

  “Can you give me the address?” Croft asked.

  Dimitri rattled it off.

  “It’s not in Vegas.”

  “Nope. She moved. That’s one hell of a road trip,” Curtis stated. “I’ll take it. It’s safer if you and Mom stick in town. We don’t need you getting run off the road. Plus with the entourage,” he said, pointing at the phone, “you’ll be a traveling circus.”

  “I’ll go with Curtis tomorrow,” Tessa offered. “None of us should be alone at this point.”

  If Paris was nervous, he didn't let on.

  Croft was proud of him.

  “Who else did you find? Was it the housekeeper?” Emma asked.

  “The housekeeper was a dead end. She passed away in a car accident last year, but we managed to locate a man by the name of Hardy Dallas. So, I kept digging. Hardy Dallas was also in the employment records as getting a salary from Rutherford.”

  “Doing what?” Croft asked.

  “The IRS has him down as his personal driver.”

  That was a good place to start.

  “We’ll take him,” Emma offered. “Where’s he living?”

  “Oh, I can do you one better. You employ him. He’s working at the hotel as the doorman. By the records, he’s up there in age. Shame on you for making old people work,” Dimitri teased. “Are there no ends to your depravity?”

  It was good to see Dimitri loosening up. Normally, he was all business.

  Croft laughed. “Blame Mason as he burns in Hell. I haven’t hired anyone. This is his doing. This is his circus and his monkeys.”

  Yeah, it really was.

  “We’ll head out after talking to Steele. He’s down in autopsy with the victim sent over from the city ME.”

  “Take the limo.”

  They both cringed at Dimitri’s words.

  “Security.”

  “Yes, we’ll tak
e the limo. Have your sister pick us up in the back.”

  “On it.”

  With that, the call went dead.

  Greyson turned toward his people. “We’re having dinner at our place tonight. Why don’t you swing over there and work from our living room? I’m sure Mace is there, and Chris will be dropping in. Tomorrow, Tessa, you and Curtis can hit the road early. I want you back during the day. No sleep overs.”

  Paris laughed. “Yeah, that’s never going to happen as long as I’m alive.”

  Curtis winked.

  He was well aware.

  “Don’t worry, Paris. Honestly, Tessa isn’t my type. She can kick my ass. I want a gentle lamb like Emma.”

  He took a gut shot and doubled over, trying to catch his breath. “Shit! See?”

  “Curtis,” Greyson said, grimacing for the man. “Head to Terrace Glen with the Archers.”

  Tessa giggled.

  Everyone looked over.

  Tessa wasn’t a giggly kind of girl. That had to be a first for her.

  “Sorry. I just love hearing people call us the Archers. It makes me stupid.”

  Greyson grinned as they headed out.

  This was family too.

  When the door closed, he stared at his wife. They’d made it together. As a couple, they’d woven together an interesting tapestry of characters.

  “Come here, Mrs. Croft. I love hearing that too.”

  Immediately, she was in his arms. “Hello, Director. Want to do it on your desk?”

  He grinned. “Yes, but you know I won’t go there. Someone in this building has to have control, you pervert. When we get home, we can do it on my desk there.”

  “Deal.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips.

  In the middle of the kiss, his phone buzzed.

  “Director, you have a call from Director Blackhawk on line one.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “Which one?”

  “Male,” she replied.

  Croft relaxed. “Thank you.”

  He glanced over at Emma. “I’ll just need a minute. Do you want to head down to autopsy? Maybe you can grab two coffees, and we can take a minute?”

  She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “See you in a few,” Emma said, heading out.

  When the door was closed, he took the call.

  “Director.”

  “Hello, Greyson. I missed you on today’s call. What’s going on?” he asked. “Is Vegas going crazy?”

  He laughed. “Sir, Vegas is always crazy. By definition alone, it’s a loony bin.”

  Ethan Blackhawk laughed. “That’s why I like having you there. I like to avoid the insanity.”

  “Sorry about the call, Director. Something came up, and I had to handle it.”

  “Spill it.”

  Greyson told him everything. When dealing with the Blackhawks, it was best not to bullshit them. If you did, and you were caught, you were screwed.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea? If Dominic Marianna is unhinged, that’s a danger to you, the people there, and the tourists.”

  He was aware, but it was time to make one last play for the man. If he could lock him up, Vegas wouldn’t be the evil vacuum it was now.

  Hopefully.

  “We’re going to work it without letting the media get wind. Hopefully, they’ll think my wife is simply working another case. Marianna, on the other hand, if he killed those people, will be scared shitless.”

  “Greyson, I’m saying this off the record. Don’t do anything stupid. Justice will get him at some point. You have to do it by the books.”

  “Sir, I plan on it.”

  There was silence. “Promise me that this isn’t going to blow up and be all over the news. I like you, and I’ll take heat for you from Gabriel Rothschild, but I can only cover so much shit with sunshine before the man gets suspicious.”

  “I can’t do that, sir. I don’t know what’s coming, and making that promise might be a lie.”

  “Well, thank you for not lying. At least there is that. If you need me to put out any fires, just give me a call. Keep it above the law, Greyson, and we’ll be okay. This isn’t the O.K. Corral. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  With that, the call ended.

  All in all, Blackhawk took it easy on him. For that, he was grateful. Grabbing his gun and badge, Greyson headed toward the door. Outside, he found his wife sitting there with two coffees and a very large cookie.

  Where she got it, he didn't know.

  “Hey.”

  “Break for a few minutes? I know a place.”

  He took his coffee and let her lead the way. He thought they were heading down to the morgue when they took a turn to the back of the building.

  “If we were at my office, we could hang out in the little park, but this will have to do.”

  “Okay,” he said, looking around. “You want to talk out here?”

  “I want to say something to you.”

  “What?” he asked, getting that nervous feeling over what was coming. When a wife wanted to talk, it was generally never good, and he knew it.

  At some point, he feared pushing his luck. Emma could only take so much.

  “We can leave right now. You and I can pack our shit, leave our jobs, and become professional beach bums. We can escape this insanity and spend the rest of our lives in the sun. I love a good bikini, and so do you.”

  He looked at her from over his paper coffee cup. “Uh, why?”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I meant what I said, Greyson. I love you. We can bail on Vegas and let the criminals fight it out.”

  He grinned. “No we can’t.”

  She knew he was going to say that.

  “I have a really bad feeling about all of this. Something in my gut is screaming, and I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid.”

  He laughed. “Gee. Thanks. You want me to run and you think I might be an idiot. Your faith in me is horrifying.”

  “I mean it,” she said, refusing to joke around. This was a very serious topic.

  His life mattered more to her than the minions in Vegas. Screw them.

  Emma didn’t want him to die.

  And that was her big fear.

  “Emma, we came here as a team. If we have to leave, it’ll be as a team. I tell you what. If we lose this round to Marianna, we’ll pack up and head out. If we can’t beat him, we’ll run.”

  She stared at him. “If we beat him?”

  “You’ll get your other wish. We’ll have hot sex in my office to celebrate—right in the middle of my desk. Either way, we’ll know we did our best. We fought the good fight. If everyone bailed on Vegas, what would happen to the people who needed help? This place is an open invitation for people to come here and be their worst selves. We need to uphold the law for the ones who deserve justice.”

  “I hate when you’re right.”

  “I know you do, but we need to stand for the ones who are ready to fall through the cracks.”

  “I know.”

  “They need us. We’re more than King and Queen Croft. We’re superheroes.”

  She snorted. “I can see your dick in those tights, Superman.”

  “I always fancied myself more like Batman--brooding, dark, handsome, and loaded.”

  She started laughing. “Who am I then?”

  “That depends. Do you want to be a bad girl or a good girl?”

  Well, that was an easy question to answer.

  “Bad. I want to be very bad, Batman.” When she moved into his body, she felt him up.

  Holy hell!

  He wanted her to be bad too.

  “You can by my Catwoman, since you’re already my feisty kitten. Only, you have to sleep with me every night.”

  “Deal.”

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Can I have some of that cookie?” he asked.

  She broke it in half and gave him the bigger piece. When h
e grinned, the dimple in his cheek, the scar, and the flash of silvery eyes stole her breath.

  Emma loved him more than anything.

  With gluttony in mind, he took a huge bite of the cookie.

  Then it hit him.

  “This isn’t chocolate,” he muttered around a mouth full of cookie. “What the hell is it?”

  “Carob. It’s better for you. It’s caffeine free.”

  “Jesus, Emma! Batman doesn’t eat carob! He eats the real shit! He’s loaded.”

  She laughed as she ate her half. “He does eat carob if he wants to go home to the Batcave and pet Catwoman.”

  He shoved the cookie in his mouth and made fake yummy noises just in case.

  “Come on, Batman. Let’s go hang out with the dead.”

  He followed her back inside and toward the morgue. What he didn’t tell her outside was the one true fact.

  Ultimately, if she left Vegas, he wouldn’t think twice. He’d be right behind her.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Autopsy

  They found Steele and Dante in the autopsy suite. Steele was examining the bones, and Dante was working at a metal table on his laptop.

  He was pretty caught up with work and didn’t even look up when they entered. Greyson knew it was payroll, and he was busy crunching numbers.

  No one bothered him.

  The man was singlehandedly holding up their empire and that wasn’t easy.

  “Doc, what can you tell us?” Emma asked, heading into the main area.

  “I can tell you that they were both killed by the same injury.”

  Emma moved around the table. “Do tell.”

  “Our first victim,” he began, not using his father’s name, “was killed by a round to the back of the head. I can’t give you the bullet size, but if I were a betting man, I’d say it’s small—maybe a twenty-two.”

  Emma made notes.

  “There was tape residue on the material and his wrists. The weather ate away at the flesh, but it left enough that we can tell that it was indeed duct tape.”

  Greyson moved closer. “Are you okay to be working on him? If this is too hard for you, Steele, we can find a way around it. I can call in a few favors and pull in a backup ME from FBI West.”

  Steele didn’t miss that he, too, didn't say the man’s name. For that, he was grateful.

 

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