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

by Morgan Kelley

  He walked away, hating himself.

  Yeah, he was great.

  A great big asshole.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Across Town

  Dominic’s Home

  He was dying for it to all go down.

  If Greyson and Emma Croft thought they could come to his town, the empire he built on his own, and destroy it, they were insane.

  He would stop them, even if it meant spilling his own blood.

  Now, it was a matter of pride.

  That bitch asked for it, and Croft threatened him. The two of them would get what they deserved.

  Dominic Marianna wasn’t one to screw with when he was in a good mood. Now he was pissed.

  Oh, he would make them pay.

  Today, he was going to take Greyson Croft to his knees. Before the clock struck twelve, he’d know what he’d done. Yes, he might not be able to win this fight, but there would be the maximum casualties.

  Mostly, two people he cared about.

  So, it was time to begin.

  Picking up the phone, he made the call.

  “Do it. The money is being transferred. You’ll have it in ten minutes. I want them dead. Do you hear me? DEAD!”

  With that, he slammed down his phone.

  “I hope you kissed your wife before you left for work this morning Croft. It will be the last time you ever see her.”

  Then he turned on the news.

  It was going to be that damn big.

  They would never see it coming.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Abandoned Building

  Scheduled for Demolition

  They had gotten there just in time.

  When they pulled up, the crews were getting ready to blow the place.

  Luck, for once, was on their side.

  After halting the demolition crews, they made sure the dynamite was safely removed.

  Today, this old building had managed to be saved.

  As they headed in, Dimitri beside him, Greyson wasn’t in the mood to talk. He snuck out on his wife to avoid his own rule in marriage.

  No lies.

  If she asked what was wrong, and he lied, then he knew she was gone.

  After all, he’d told her the same thing when they first moved there.

  “Is she okay?” he asked, knowing that Dimitri always checked in when someone on his team went out.

  “She and Captain Ford arrived and are in the police precinct right now.”

  “Who’s on her?” he asked, as he navigated the old building with his flashlight and gun out.

  “Kat is. Natasha is heading there in a bit. She wanted to make sure the perimeter of the house is secure. My sisters will be switching off so no one notices them lurking around. Kat is taking the first shift.”

  He was glad, but said nothing.

  “You didn't talk to her, did you?”

  He laughed. “Gee, what gave it away?”

  “Well, maybe it was the fact that you had to be here at the ass-crack of dawn, and you practically got shot when you barged into my room to get me out of bed.”

  He stared at him. “Do they have the word rhetorical in Russian, or should I define it for you?”

  He grinned. “And you’re grumpy with a side of douche-y on this fine Sunday morning.”

  Croft was well aware.

  “Over here, Director,” shouted a tech.

  As far as they were all concerned, someone had called in a tip, and that’s exactly what he wanted them to think. This was getting trickier and trickier.

  “Start taking the wall apart.”

  As they stood there, wearing masks to protect their lungs, Croft got a text.

  It was Paris.

  “They found another witness,” he stated. “There’s a Hillary Schmitz. When they pulled Biagio’s arrest record, her name was on it.”

  “Let me guess…hooker?”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “I remember him. He was this overly tan Italian who liked to show his dick around town.”

  “I hope that’s a euphemism for something else.”

  “I wish. He liked the ladies, and he didn't mind taking them for a hard ride, against their will. He’s one of the reasons I distanced myself from Marianna. If he was going to condone rape, I couldn’t watch it go down.”

  Yeah, for good reason.

  He couldn’t blame him.

  “Want to head there next?”

  The man nodded. “Yeah, because we don’t have enough coverage to send anyone else. Curtis and Mace are at the house with Paris and Tessa, Emma and Chris are with my sisters, and then there’s you.”

  Dimitri pointed at himself.

  “See the dilemma?”

  Yeah, they were stretched thin. After last night, no one wanted to be out in the open by themselves. There was no doubt that Dominic would be taking a shot, and soon.

  “Where’s my brother and my ME?”

  “Steele is heading our way right now, and your brother made it to the hotel this morning. He assures me that he’s inside all day.”

  Good.

  He was worried about him. Striking at Dante was like striking at him. He was the only other Croft by blood. Where everyone called Curtis the heir apparent, if anything happened to him and Emma, the will was already written.

  Yes, Curtis would be part of it, but Dante would be running the businesses.

  They split everything down the middle.

  “We’ll head out once Doctor Bentley takes a look at the victim and gives us the preliminary COD.”

  Greyson wasn’t expecting miracles. He was simply waiting to see if their victim had been shot or cut apart.

  “Hey, boss,” Steele said, dropping his bag. “I appreciate you finding me work, but feel free to slow it down a bit. I’m bogged down. I’m going to be working late for days.”

  He laughed. “Then you should have picked a slower field—like painting restoration. You get what you ask for,” Croft stated.

  Steele grinned. “Okay, let me get ready.”

  He pulled on his mask and gloves. As the techs finished taking pictures, the three men moved closer.

  “Yeah, well, there’s the answer to the million dollar question,” Steele stated. “He was cut apart.”

  They thought about it.

  “We have to have two separate hired guns.”

  Both men glanced over at Dimitri.

  “What? Are you asking me? I’m neither a mind reader, nor the one who did this, so…”

  This was frustrating.

  “Who is it?” Steele asked, lowering his voice.

  “Dayton Chester,” Croft said, recalling the name from Emma’s list.

  “I know him. Well, not personally,” he said, when they both glanced over.

  “You haven’t been in the city for that long,” Steele said, moving away from the techs after he gave them their instructions.

  “No, I haven’t. Spill it.”

  “About five years ago, there was a court case. During the trial, the state had one major witness who was going to sit on the stand and point the finger at the criminal.”

  He saw where this was going.

  “But before he could, the man went missing. Dayton Chester disappeared the night before he was scheduled to testify.”

  Yeah, shocking.

  In Vegas, that happened A LOT.

  “Let me guess,” Croft said. “He was testifying against Dominic Marianna.”

  “You better believe it. That was the last time the city DA was able to find anyone to testify against him. Since then, most people avoid the name Marianna, and with good reason.”

  “Well, at least we know TOD,” Croft said.

  “We know who did it too,” Dimitri stated.

  “We still have to prove it.”

  Greyson knew that wasn’t going to be as easy as they hoped. With each body, he was hoping it would get easier, but that wasn’t the case.

  Dominic Marianna was one hell of
a slippery snake and catching him was going to be a bitch.

  “What do you want to do?” Dimitri asked.

  “I want to head to Hillary Schmitz’s place so we can question her.”

  He glanced over at Steele.

  “Are you going to be safe getting back to the office?”

  Doctor Bentley looked around. “Are you kidding me? There are four Feds escorting the transport, ten techs, and two cops. What’s going to happen?”

  “Better safe than sorry. I want you to call Dante and stay on the phone with him the entire way. Greyson glanced down at the watch the FBI gave its field agents.

  It had the tracker in it.

  “Give me your wrist.”

  He stared at him. “Uh, why?”

  Croft pulled off the watch and placed it on his outstretched arm. “This is issued for agents in the field when they go undercover, or the big wigs to keep tabs on us.”

  He told him about the pin.

  “If you push it all the way in, you’ll set off a tracking signal. It’s going to register with the FBI as mine. The second it goes off, someone will come look for you.”

  Steele accepted it.

  “Thank you, but maybe you should give this to Dante. If someone’s going to be a target, it’s you, him, Curtis, or Emma.”

  He had a point.

  Dimitri spoke up, “I’ll make sure he’s wearing one of ours by the time he leaves the casino.”

  “Thank you.”

  Then, Greyson hugged Steele in front of everyone. When he set him free, the man looked shocked. “Uh, do you hate hugs?” he asked, looking around.

  Immediately, all the techs went back to work. They knew better.

  “You just hugged me in front of the team.”

  “Steele, you’re gay, not a leper. Besides, I hug everyone I love.”

  Dimitri pointed at Croft before he could do it. “Don’t. You’re not my type.”

  He laughed. “See you back at the morgue. Stay out of trouble.”

  With that, the two of them headed out.

  “Why did you really hug him?” Dimitri asked.

  “Always be nice to your family. One day, you might need an alibi, and they’re going to be the ones who have your back.”

  Dimitri laughed. “You’re a piece of work.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. I’m all kinds of complicated with a side of screwed up.”

  That was an understatement.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  LVPD

  Homicide

  Holy shit!

  She was bored to tears.

  It was days like this that made Emma want to pack up her job as civil servant and retire to anywhere but there.

  If she had to shake hands with one more person, someone was going to get hurt.

  Emma wanted to kick the commissioner’s ass for even playing this kind of game. Making his detectives talk to people, who weren’t suspects, was cruel and unusual punishment.

  She wasn’t the only one having a miserable time. Chris Ford had been asked a plethora of uncomfortable questions.

  Some made him blush.

  It was the one where some guy asked him if she was good in bed, that nearly put him over the edge. He had sputtered, gotten red, and wanted to punch someone. It was hard to shake him, but this man managed to do just that.

  Since Chris was ready to snap, she sent him for a coffee break.

  He was a man on the edge.

  As she sat there, perched on her desk, Emma watched the people coming and going from the squad room.

  She could spot a tourist a mile away.

  They were all over the place.

  She was pretty sure every single one, who had come to the city, was there to see her.

  Hell!

  Some Japanese couple asked to have her picture with them. That was going way too far.

  She was a cop.

  Not a spokesmodel for the LVPD.

  Oh, all the detectives who were on duty—screw them! They’d managed to escape into the daylight as soon as Emma and Chris arrived.

  A part of her couldn’t blame them. No one, in their right mind, wanted to be part of this mess.

  As she sat there, that little wave of awareness overtook her.

  Something felt wrong.

  Her gut didn’t lie, and she was feeling off balance from something.

  Emma glanced over, scanning the area between the main lobby and the bullpen. It was full of glass windows looking out at the entry way to their division.

  Chris was heading her way with two coffees in his hands. He was looking right at her.

  He was smiling.

  She focused more intently.

  Behind him.

  There were two people following him, and they were carrying guns.

  They were large, automatic weapon that normal civilians couldn’t get their hands on in Vegas.

  That couldn’t be right.

  When they lifted them, pointing them at the people, Chris, and the glass, she pulled her gun.

  Chris spun around after seeing her pull her sidearm, only he never stood a chance.

  The glass shattered.

  The coffee went flying.

  People were screaming as they were gunned down in cold blood, inside the LVPD, and in front of their families.

  To make it worse, Emma watched the man she called brother get hit in the chest with a couple rounds before they pointed the guns at her.

  It all moved in slow motion.

  His body spun.

  The blood splatter exploded around him.

  Then he fell.

  That’s when all hell broke loose.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Hillary Schmitz’s

  Home

  Well, it definitely looked like the place a hooker would live. One of the biggest issues with Las Vegas was the fact that because prostitution was allowed outside the city limits, people who walked the strip thought they were just as entitled to sell tail to the tourists.

  If you walked into Emma’s precinct, most of the people in cuffs were also in leather, as they were being booked for the oldest profession in the world.

  Sex sold in Vegas.

  It also caused you to get sick and die if you dipped your dick in the wrong woman. IV drug use was rampant, as were the big three.

  Hepatitis.

  Herpes.

  HIV.

  As they stood there, Greyson shook his head.

  “What?” Dimitri asked.

  “I came here to help people, and with each one I do help, five more fall through the cracks. I’m fighting a losing battle.”

  He got it.

  It was a tough world out there.

  “I don’t know if I should feel sorry for prostitutes, or just vote to toss them in jail.”

  “They’re just doing their job.”

  He laughed. “Only, it’s an illegal one that’s prohibited. That’s like saying you can’t hate drug dealers, since they’re just working to make a buck.”

  He got his point.

  “So, you’ve never hired one?” Dimitri asked.

  Greyson looked over. “Uh, no, since it’s illegal, and I’m married, I thought it was best to skip that stroll down Hooker-Lane.”

  Dimitri shrugged. “I used them on occasion—when the need arises.”

  That had his attention.

  “Why?”

  Croft didn't get it.

  Dimitri was a good looking man. The aqua eyes, the sharp features, the accent, and all that black hair.

  What the hell was wrong with this picture?

  Shit!

  If he was a woman, he’d be attracted to him. He had to be missing something huge.

  “Did you run through all the women in the Vegas dating pool?”

  Dimitri laughed. “No. I don’t date. Honestly, this is easier. You don’t have to have a conversation. You call them up, they come over, you have sex, you pay them, and they’re gone forever. You get off, and they get out
.”

  “Please tell me you’re kidding, and not bringing hookers into the house.”

  He laughed. “I use your hotel instead. Feel better?”

  Greyson closed his eyes.

  “Relax. I’m discreet.”

  “That doesn’t make it that much better. Why don’t you find a nice girl and settle down?”

  He started laughing. “We live in Las Vegas. While I don’t have as much money as you do, I’m still rich. I don’t trust people all that often. With the exception of my sisters, and your circle, I generally avoid contact. People are assholes.”

  Okay, so he agreed there.

  Greyson leaned against his vehicle while Dimitri pulled out a silver case. Automatically, he took out a cigarette.

  When he talked about his personal life, it made him edgy.

  Greyson had watched him long enough to know that this was one of his coping mechanisms. When he was worked up, he liked hard, sweaty sex.

  To each their own.

  “Want one?”

  “No thank you. I haven’t smoked since I came back from the Gulf.”

  “Good for you. I have a couple vices that I can’t shake.”

  He lit up.

  “We’re still going to talk about it, aren’t we?”

  “Remember last night when you took it upon yourself to handcuff me and make me tell you all my secrets?”

  “Yes.”

  He removed the handcuffs from his belt. “Payback. It’s your choice with or without?”

  “Great. I choose without.”

  “You could pick a girl up in a bar.”

  “I could, but then they ask questions. What do you do for a living? Where do you live? Why is your back covered in scars?”

  Okay, that one shouldn’t have come out.

  Shit!

  He was nervous.

  Greyson Croft usually didn’t faze him, but today…

  “Your old man did a number on you too, huh?”

  He laughed. “I wish it was only that. Let’s just say that when you’re captured, the torture sucks.”