Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5)

by Morgan Kelley

  “Well, it takes two. You’re not alone in this,” Emma reassured.

  “What do I do?”

  Emma didn't want to laugh, but she had to. “I’m partial to Curtis. He’s like our child. I can’t in good conscience tell you to dump and divorce him.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that. If you were me, do you think it would work? I mean, we got married in a night of drunken stupidity. That can’t be good.”

  “Who suggested it?”

  “No clue.”

  “I can only tell you what I’ve noticed. Curtis looks at you as if you’re the center of the universe. When you come into a room, he gets up, pulls out your chair, and always puts you first.”

  “I know.”

  “He loves you, Brynn. If you walk away, he won’t survive it. I’m not telling you that to make you stay or sway you, but he won’t. He’s fragile when it comes to his heart. When you broke up last time, he didn't handle it well.”

  “I know.”

  She was feeling guilty.

  “Do you love him?” Emma asked.

  “Yes, but...”

  Emma knew right where that was heading, and it irritated her. “You can’t go with the captain bars bullshit again,” she scolded. “You did that once, and it was a big mistake.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s been my dream.”

  The woman needed a little dose of reality. “Every detective dreams about getting them, and few do. It may or may not happen, Brynn. You can’t bank your entire life on it, and then waste it.”

  “You were asked.”

  It was said with animosity, and Emma picked it up. Since her boss had offered her the position, she’d noticed some jealousy from her partner. “Being like me will not get you them. So, you can stop trying to be Emma Croft II, and instead be Brynn Briggs.” Then, she paused before continuing, “or Brynn Westmore. Whatever you choose.”

  “Is marriage great? Are you genuinely happy?” she asked, hoping for some insight.

  “It’s a partnership. There are ups and downs. Most of the time, if you’re with the right person, it’s good. You’re sweating the paper too much. When you’re with Curtis, are you happy?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, what’s changed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then go with that and make your decision off the facts, like we detectives are supposed to do.”

  Brynn was confused, so she opted to go with what she knew best. “We should work.”

  It was obvious that the conversation was officially over. Getting out, she headed toward the apartment with her partner.

  Once inside, they found the buzzer and pressed it. When there was no reply, they headed down the hall to the location. Knocking on the door, they could hear footsteps heading their way.

  When the door was opened, a large man who was obviously a body builder of some sort, stood there glaring at them. “I was trying to sleep.”

  Emma and Brynn both pulled their badges. “We’re here to talk to you about Lidia Martinez,” she stated.

  “What about her? Did she break the law walking the dogs today? Did she forget to clean up some dog shit?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Sir, can we come in?”

  He stepped back, leading them into the apartment. It was obvious that he lived there, since it was peppered with lots of his things too.

  “So, what’s this about?” he asked, watching them warily.

  “When’s the last time you saw Lidia?” Brynn asked.

  “Well, we work opposites. I’m a bouncer, so I roll in around six in the morning, and she heads to work at five to begin picking up her clients.”

  They made notes.

  “On Sundays, we reconnect when we’re both off. Why?”

  “No text messages or calls?”

  He thought about it. “No, come to mention it, she hasn’t. That’s odd. Hey! What’s going on?”

  “What’s your name, sir?” Emma asked.

  “Benji Johnston, why?”

  “Sir, we hate to inform you, but we’ve found Lidia this morning. She’s dead.”

  He jumped out of his chair so fast, that both women went for their guns.

  “This isn't funny! If she put you up to this, you’re just as sick as she is!”

  Emma and Brynn put space between them, just in case. You never knew what a person was capable of, once they were told the news. Most people mourned. This guy was in a rage.

  Given his size, Emma didn't doubt that there were some steroids involved.

  Great.

  Roid rage on top of it all.

  “Did she put you up to this?” he practically screamed, right before he put his fist through the wall.

  Brynn and Emma took another step back. Neither detective had anything on them but their guns. If he rushed them, there wouldn’t be a stun gun to take the ox of a man down.

  They’d have to shoot.

  “I swear she is such a bitch! A man makes one mistake, and he’s crucified for the rest of his life!”

  Again, another hole was punched in the wall.

  “Mr. Johnston, you need to calm down. This isn't helping the situation,” Emma stated, trying to get the man to take a breather. At this rate, he was going to demolish the place.

  On cue, he flipped the table.

  Brynn didn't like the odds on this one. Here was this raging lunatic, and they were alone. It would have been handy to have Emma’s husband around.

  When he stared at them, Emma braced for it. Plastered across his face was the look a crazed person got right before they were going to do something incredibly stupid.

  Then, it happened.

  Benji Johnston rushed them.

  Full force.

  Since he was big and lumbering, the women had a chance to evade him. As he charged, Emma and Brynn stepped back, but before she did, Emma threw out her foot. It tripped the man, taking him to the ground. Immediately, they each went for a thumb, bending it back to get him under control. It took two sets of handcuffs to restrain him.

  “You’re under arrest for trying to assault a police officer,” Emma stated, as Brynn began reading him his rights.

  “Are you shitting me?” he wailed. “You weren’t kidding? Lidia is really dead?”

  Emma shook her head. If anything, they now had their first suspect. If actions spoke louder than words, this said it all.

  This man was crazy.

  * * *

  Once arriving at ‘Perfect Indiscretions’, Director Croft and his partner, Curtis Briggs, looked around to get their bearings. The building was in the warehouse district and looked like nothing more than a building used to house old machine equipment.

  “And this is the address Paris gave you?” Croft asked, glancing over at his partner. He was a little off his game and this might be a mistake.

  “This is the address listed on their taxes. If it’s empty, the IRS is going to go shit nuts.”

  Heading to the one door, they pulled it open. It was indeed something more than a vacant building. Inside, they found a woman sitting behind a desk, doing some paperwork.

  “Is this ‘Perfect Indiscretions’?” Croft asked.

  “Yes, it is. Can I help you?” she replied.

  “We need to speak to the person running this company,” he stated, as they both pulled out their badges.

  She didn't even bat an eyelash.

  That said a lot.

  “The three men in charge are behind closed doors in a meeting,” she stated, pointing at a door. “You’ll have to make an appointment.”

  Curtis started laughing.

  It was a rare thing for anyone to tell Greyson Croft no. Generally, when they saw his badge, recognized his face, or saw the pricy suit, there was no hemming and hawing.

  Now, this woman made a big mistake.

  “I don’t think you get this, Daisy,” he said, glancing down at her nameplate on the desk. “I’m the FBI. When we come calling, we don’t have to make an
appointment. This badge is my free access pass to anyone I want to talk to.”

  She shrugged. “Donald said no interruptions. I’m more afraid of him, since he pays my salary.”

  Again, Curtis was enjoying the show. This woman had a big brass set. Unfortunately, they weren’t going to be bigger than the ‘Ice King’s’.

  “Okay, I’ll make an appointment. Personally.”

  With that, he strode toward the door, ready to kick it in if he had to. The woman immediately ran after him, trying to get in his way. Instead, Curtis intercepted Daisy, for her own good.

  “You really don’t want to go to jail, do you?” he asked, just as Greyson threw open the door.

  Inside, three men were sitting around a table.

  “Who are you?” the one asked, standing.

  The other answered for him. “That’s the Fed guy. You know, the one with the redheaded babe.”

  The man sat down, obviously irritated.

  Greyson had news for him. His magnanimous mood at that point was far shittier. They had four dead women and a bunch of geeks playing boss.

  “I’m sorry, sirs! I tried to stop him,” the secretary said, peeking her head in the door.

  The one man waved her off. “It’s okay, Daisy. We’ll handle the Fed.”

  Croft wouldn’t bet on it.

  At this point, he was three days past handling. In fact, he was going to hand someone their ass in about three seconds. Each moment out in the field, and away from his wife, was making him more and more edgy.

  “Have a seat,” the one man offered, as the other two slid over to make room for them at the table.

  Greyson did just that. He dwarfed the three men, and to really make them nervous, he slipped out of his suit jacket. It worked, because all three sets of eyes went to the gun at his hip and the holster under his arm.

  Yes, he was double packing, just in case.

  A nervous person spilled details, and he wasn’t above some psychological warfare now and again, especially when he was forced to jump through hoops.

  “What can we do for you?” the boss named Donald asked.

  “First, you can introduce yourselves,” he said, no emotion in his voice. If anything, he was the king of interview.

  They went around the table. “I’m Donald Clark, and with my partners here, we own ‘Perfect Indiscretions’,” he stated.

  The next man went. “I’m Juan Sanchez, and it’s my job to do all the website design.”

  “I’m Rodney Hamilton. I’m in charge of our membership list and advertising for more clientele.”

  Croft and Curtis made their introductions too.

  Then, they began.

  “It seems that your company has come up four times in an investigation that we’re running.”

  Before he could continue, Donald interjected.

  “I’m really sick of the Federal government trying to police our right to have a business that legally sells sex. Every one of these clients is of legal age and able to make up their own minds. If they want to cheat, let them. The FBI has nothing on us. We run a clean, legal operation. There are other things in Vegas you can police.”

  “Are you done?” Croft asked.

  The man shrugged.

  “This isn't about peddling sexual fantasies to married people. While I think it’s vile and perverse, since marriage should be sacred, I’m not here to judge you. What I am here to do, is find out why four women have been killed, and all of them members of your cheat fest.”

  They looked at each other.

  “What?” Juan said. “How is that possible?”

  Croft shrugged. “You tell me. Someone is poaching your members, having sex with them, and then killing them.”

  “Are you sure?” Donald asked, getting visibly upset. “We built this business from the ground up. We’re going to be going public soon.”

  Croft was more than appalled. “You’re going to be selling shares of a company that’s based on adultery?”

  They nodded.

  “Hey! Sex sells,” admitted Donald.

  It was official.

  Vegas was the cesspool of the world.

  “Can you prove our business had something to do with it?” asked Donald Clark.

  “We’re building a case, and so far, all four women were part of your elusive group of cheaters. In fact, one was one of your fantasy superstars.”

  “Who?” Rodney asked.

  “Zara Harris,” he stated.

  Immediately, the man pulled out a tablet and began typing away.

  “Geez, she was popular with our guys. They’re going to miss her.”

  Again, Croft was mortified at the lack of them seeing the big picture. “Your bored housewives are in danger. We need to run this investigation.”

  “Well, it looks like you already hacked our files to find out,” stated Juan angrily.

  “Actually,” Curtis said, interjecting, “we didn't. We used every legal method allowed to us by law. We had one of our agents sign up, we scanned the dating pool, and that’s it.”

  “That can’t be legal,” stated Donald.

  “It was perfectly legal,” replied Croft. Boy, he was glad his team did this the right way. If they didn't, he could see that these three were going to be an issue.

  “Is she married or in a relationship? That’s our requirement,” added Rodney.

  “She’s married,” Curtis stated.

  Yeah, to him.

  The man gave up. They knew there was no way to stop someone from looking, since that’s why they gave a free week of trial membership.

  “We’re here to ask for your cooperation, and to see if anyone had issues. If these three women came to you, complained, or notified you, we need to know.”

  Rodney pulled out his tablet. “What are their names?”

  Curtis rattled them off.

  He shook his head. “Sorry, no one notified us.”

  Croft noticed they were hesitant to help. He nodded to his partner, who took the cue. Flipping his tablet around, Curtis showed the men the crime scene pictures.

  They all looked sick.

  “This is going to sink the company if this gets out,” Donald stated. “What can we do to keep this quiet?”

  Again, Greyson was appalled.

  “Really? How about the women you provide services for? Do you have any concern for their wellbeing? Maybe you should be more worried about that then this company closing.”

  The men looked back and forth.

  “Of course we do, but it’s not like I can save them all. We have about forty thousand female members. What am I supposed to do? Shut the site down until this is over?”

  “For starters, yes.”

  They laughed.

  “Not happening, Mr. FBI. We’ve sunk our lives into this business. I’m not destroying it,” Donald stated.

  “You’ll have to find another way,” stated Juan.

  “I agree,” Rodney chimed in.

  “Can you at least give us access to the accounts of the four dead women?” Curtis asked. “I can remotely access them, and then use that to track the killer.”

  “Do you have a warrant?” asked Rodney. “See, when you sign up for our site, you check that little box that asks if you read the details. In the small print, it clearly states that once you agree to join us, you no longer have personal claim to your account.”

  Croft knew why the man was more than happy to point that one little detail out. With the dead women, he could easily get access, but if the company owned it as intellectual property, he was going to need that warrant.

  Well, shit!

  He really hated jumping through hoops.

  “One is on the way,” he stated.

  Donald stood. “We’re sorry, Director, but you’ll have to do this the legal way. It’s not that we don’t want to help you, but we have an obligation to protect the confidentiality of our clientele. These married people signed up only because they wouldn’t have to worry about any marriage repe
rcussions. We offer complete and total anonymity. I’m sure you understand,” he stated.

  Oh, Croft got it, and when he was done, so would they. Standing, he pulled on his suit jacket. When he was finished, he signaled to Curtis.

  “We’ll be back, gentlemen. Be prepared to grant us access to all your records. Only, it won’t just be the dead women’s info we’re going to take, it’ll be everyone’s.”

  The men looked worried.

  Taking that as his cue, they headed out.

  Curtis knew his boss was pissed by the demeanor of his body, and the icy scowl on his face. He had to believe that the boss man knew this was going to happen.

  “We’re going to find everything we can on that business, and if we can prove it had anything to do with not protecting those women from a sexual predator, we’re going to shut them down.”

  “You’re really pissed.”

  He was. “Yeah, I am. Someone has to stand up for marriage, and it might as well be me.”

  * * *

  He had watched the coverage on the news.

  Listened to it on the radio.

  Eavesdropped on the gossip being spewed.

  It was playing over and over again on every station.

  Part of that was scary and enthralling all at once. He never thought that his little need would draw the attention of the Feds, especially the head one. While he should be scared shitless, he wasn’t willing to give up his fantasies.

  These women wanted what he had to offer, and there was no way he was going to stop.

  He couldn’t.

  He lusted after the power, the make-believe, and making their dreams come true.

  They deserved their last minutes on Earth to be filled with fun and enjoyment, and he had earned the accolades he received from taking their life.

  This was his calling.

  Relaxing, he thought about the last interlude. Maybe he should be filled with disgust over that one. She was such a sexy freak, needing to do it in a church. While he judged her, it still called to him, and that was why he picked her.

  In the end, he gave her what she wanted, and she did the same. It was tit for tat.