Detective Croft followed the sound of her voice, until she found her in the small bedroom. It was just as tidy and clean as the rest of the apartment. “What’s up?”
Holding the closet door open more, she pointed inside. “I think we just got another clue to what our vic did for a living.”
Emma stared into the closet, finding more feathers than what would be found on a flock of birds. “We have ourselves a showgirl or a wannabe.”
“Yeah, we do.”
Brynn closed the closet door. “What’s next? You’re the pro when it comes to homicide. I’m here to learn.”
“We’ll head home for the night. Until Doctor Bentley does the autopsy tomorrow morning, and we get tox and other reports back, there’s not much we can do. Plus, with Ford calling this a priority one assignment, we’re going to be working hard at it the next few days.”
“Want to get something for dinner?” Brynn inquired. “Tonight might be our last night to take it easy before the FBI rolls over us tomorrow.”
Emma was good with that. “Want to come to my place? I make an awesome pasta primavera.”
“Let me guess, all vegetarian?”
Grinning, Emma lead her partner from the woman’s apartment, making sure the door was locked behind them. “I swear you won’t even miss the meat.”
“That works for me.” Who was she kidding? Brynn wanted to see what the inside of the Sky Villa condominiums looked like. She’d eat vegetarian for a month to snoop around.
“Let’s talk to the perv, and then head out. He’s going to watch this apartment for us like he’s on the force.”
Detective Westmore stared at her unbelievingly. “How do you know he’ll do it?”
“I’m going to scare the hell out of him.”
Brynn started laughing at that. “That should work.”
There were some things Emma missed about being a detective and this was definitely one of them.
“Yeah, I know.”
* * *
Croft waited for his old partner outside the FBI field office in Philly. It didn't take long to drive there from Quantico. Now, they had to board two planes to get to Vegas- one flying into Chicago, and then one to their final destination. Tomorrow was going to be a long day running on very little sleep, but then the idea of seeing his wife had lifted his spirits.
This time tomorrow night, he was going to be having sex with the woman who owned his heart. Greyson would suck up some red eye flights to have his wicked way with Emma.
He could swear the scent of lavender was wafting around him. Maybe it was his imagination.
“Christ, you’re daydreaming about her now too,” said Briggs, grinning at his partner. He’d missed the man the last five weeks. When he asked for a transfer out to work with him again, he didn't believe that it would actually happen.
Croft turned. “Curtis, how are you?” He hugged his friend warmly. “I can’t believe I’m saddled with you again. I just got rid of you.”
Briggs started laughing. Their relationship was like having a really great big brother to teach you everything and harass you to death. “Old man, you need to go to the nursing home. Your memory is shot. But hey, I’ll take care of that young, hot wife of yours.”
Instead of getting upset, he merely snickered. “You wish.”
“When do we land in Vegas? I want to play craps, find me a hooker, and have some fun.”
He stared at him with his mouth open. Maybe allowing the young man to go to ‘Sin City’ was a very bad idea.
“I’m kidding,” he reassured. “I learned my lesson with easy women. I’ve been celibate.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Croft said laughing.
“Hey!”
“You know what I meant.”
God, he’d missed his partner and friend. It wasn’t the same without him.
Croft led him to the rental car. “You drive. I’m going to start working on the files that are coming in on this assignment.”
Briggs caught the keys. “You’re the boss.” Then, he thought about it. “I need to find a place to stay out in Vegas. I’m moving there.”
“What?” Croft wasn’t sure if he was serious or yanking his chain. They had that kind of relationship.
“I said,” he started before his partner cut him off.
“I heard what you said, Curtis. You’re moving there, as in permanently.” That wasn’t what Gabe had told him--not that it mattered, since the government was rarely accurate. He’d learned to expect surprises along the way. “Are we talking long term?”
“Yep,” he answered, starting the car and heading towards the airport. “I’m going to be your problem for a long time- even after I’m off probation. You get to be my boss until you retire, and then I will finally get your job,” he teased.
There was laughter in the car. “That’s okay, Curtis. I actually missed you. I had no one to do all my grunt work. My secretary isn’t as easy going as you are.”
He smirked. “So, can I stay at your place and does your wife sleepwalk naked?”
It caught him off guard. “I take it back, Curtis. I didn't miss you at all.”
~ Chapter Three ~
Monday Night
Pulling into the Sky Villa’s garage was an amazing thing. There was actually a camera at the gate to deter nonresidents from attempting to enter. When the camera moved across the passengers in the front of the SUV, a voice came over the speaker.
“Mrs. Croft, will you be having a visitor?”
“Yes, William. My partner is joining me for dinner,” she answered, hearing the beep.
“Please bring her to the front desk for sign in.”
Emma rolled up her window and headed down into the bowels of the underground garage.
“Wow, that’s some security.”
She nodded. “It’s the number one reason next to the view that my husband picked this place. He wanted to make sure if he was away on business, I’d be safe. When he asked if I had a visitor, it was code.”
“Seriously?”
Emma started laughing. “Yeah, had I not explained who you were, then security would have stopped us inside the gate.”
“That’s crazy.”
She shook her head. “Wait. You still have to be fingerprinted at the desk.”
Her partner had to be kidding. “For what?”
Emma shrugged. “It’s their policy. I just live here.”
It turned out that it wasn’t a joke. Once they arrived inside the elevator, it opened into a lobby. They had to take a different one to the actual condominium, but before Brynn was permitted further, the armed security guard at the desk scanned her fingerprints.
“Want a photo too?” she asked teasingly.
“We already took it ma’am, while you were in the car. If you’d like a copy for yourself, I can print it out,” he teased right back.
Emma winked at him. She loved having William downstairs. No one could get past him. He took his job very seriously.
Riding up in the elevator, Brynn wasn’t quite sure what to say. “There are twenty floors?”
“Yeah, there are two condos on each level with the exception of the penthouse. There’s one big one up there and the pool.”
“You have a pool?” Okay, now, she was jealous. “I wish I had one.”
When the elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor, her partner looked around warily. “Seriously? Most buildings skip this one for a reason.”
Emma started laughing. “Come on! You’re being silly.” She led the woman down the hall. “If you want to come over sometime and swim, you can. I’m always up there on my days off. There are cabanas and lounge chairs.”
“Can I move in?” she asked laughing.
“Uh no. I like having my alone time to climb all over my husband. I’m a newlywed.” She unlocked the door to thirteen-A and held it open to her partner. Emma watched Brynn’s face as she wandered into the dwelling and stared at everything. It was pretty much what Emma had thought when she
first saw it all.
Their new place had been quite a surprise.
Meeting her at the door, the cat meowed for her attention. “Yes, I get it hairball. You’re hungry. When aren’t you?” she said to the cat. They had a love hate relationship. He hated the furniture and destroyed things, and she’d love to toss him off the balcony.
“Wow, that’s a fat, furry cat.”
Emma picked him up and held him under her arm. “This is Hairy. It’s Greyson’s cat.”
She waited for the name to register.
Nada.
“Hello there, Hairy.” She scratched him between the ears.
“Feel free to look around. I still haven’t put up any pictures or personal things. We’ve only been here about five weeks. I’m waiting for Greyson to return home to help me.”
Brynn wandered around the spacious living room, staring over her shoulder. “Holy shit, that’s a million dollar view.” Already, the lights in the city were flashing and the sky was aflame with a spectacularness that could only be found in Vegas.
“Pretty damn close,” muttered Emma, still thinking her husband was crazy to buy this place.
Standing in the kitchen, the woman unclipped her weapon and began pulling food from the refrigerator. “Want some wine? You can drink all you want. There’s a car service that’ll drive you home.”
“Of course there is,” she stated, laughing. “I so want your life. Does your husband have a brother?”
That made Emma laugh. “You don’t even know what my husband looks like. What if he’s this hideous ogre that lives under a bridge?”
Brynn stared at her seriously. “You have a rooftop pool and a view of the entire strip. I can have sex with an ogre. I’ll close my eyes.”
Now, she was laughing as she poured some wine for her partner. “He’s actually very handsome. I’d show you our wedding photos, but we aren’t quite unpacked.”
Brynn took a seat on the stool that faced the kitchen. “You want me to help?” she offered.
“No, I love to cook. I have this. Why don’t we get it over with and discuss the case? Then, we can enjoy dinner.”
“Works for me.”
“Tomorrow, when the FBI rolls in, we should split up. There are two victims, and we should each take one. It’ll lighten the day. We need full searches of both their homes.”
“Did we get an ID on the second woman?” Bryn asked.
Emma began chopping vegetables. “No, but we never know what the team will find by morning.”
“True. Our CSI’s are excellent at what they do.”
“That they are, but now we have the FBI lab and that’s going to work in our favor. We can get DNA and all the other testing back in less time. Today, Doctor Bentley told me the swabs wouldn’t be back for a week.”
“That’s relatively fast for them.”
Not when working with the FBI. Greyson’s people would have the work done in a single day or hours if need be. For once, the government was going to make someone’s life easier.
Go figure.
“Wait until you see how quick the FBI turnaround is on lab work. It makes our people look like schlubs.”
Brynn hoped so. “So, let me ask you this,” she began. “You’ve seen a few homicides. What do you think the sewn up lips, missing eyes, and ears mean?”
With a crazed killer, one could only guess.
“I’m not sure, but whoever is arriving tomorrow from the FBI, they’ll most likely be getting us a profile. That’s another great thing about the Feds. If anything, they’re prepared.”
“I get it--you’re shacked up with one. They can do no wrong,” her partner stated, laughing.
Emma knew the FBI had many haters out there. It was natural to dislike people who came in and took over. She’d lived it before in Philly. “We’ll get through it. We’re still running this one. It’s when they come in with their team and back up agents that it gets dicey.”
She dropped the pasta into the water.
“When dealing with the FBI, assert yourself and stay in control. If you can do that, you’ll make it through easily.” Emma grinned. “How often do the Feds help out?”
Detective Westmore thought about it. “In the last year, maybe six times. We get a lot of murder. Sometimes we have tourists stalked and preyed on by the seedy element. It runs the gambit.”
“It won’t be so bad,” Emma reassured. “You look like you don’t believe that.”
“I was just thinking,” she said, pausing before continuing, “What if the Feds are assholes, and you and I are booted off this assignment?”
Now, Emma grinned wickedly. “Then, I do the only logical thing.”
Detective Westmore stared at her blankly, not quite sure where she was heading with it.
“I call my husband and rat their asses out.”
Bryn’s laughter filled the room and mingled with Emma’s. “This could work out to our advantage.”
“Yeah, I know.”
* * *
The cops had found the next woman and all was right in the world. Tonight, there would be a break to see how close the police came to finding out the truth.
If they were no closer by tomorrow night, there’d be another death. The next victim was already picked out, and her lifeless body would be placed even closer to his home.
Once the detectives investigated, the truth would be set free, and he’d be ruined.
It was perfect.
Payback was a bitch.
* * *
Croft scanned the files as they came across his tablet. He’d noticed his wife sent him a text message and tried to call him, but he’d already been in the air at the time. If Greyson returned it between flights, he’d scare the hell out of her.
Cops didn't like getting calls randomly in the middle of the night, and neither did the spouses of law enforcement officers. As he sat there thinking about her, he only hoped she was holding up without him at her side.
When he first met Emma, she was emotionally battered and bruised. All the scars in her past were from watching her brother die in front of her. It didn't take them long to patch up her heart, but being away from her made him worry. She always told him that the only reason she could go back to being a detective was because he was right there.
Now, he wasn’t.
There was so much guilt battering his heart at that moment, that somehow he’d let her down. Greyson vowed that he’d be right there, and he had broken that promise.
He sent out a silent wish, wanting one thing more than anything in that moment. It was that he could avoid leaving her side for as long as possible.
She needed him.
And he was struggling without her too.
So much had changed in so little time, and now they were two halves to one coin. Without one, there wouldn’t be the other. Finding Emma meant that he’d found the other part of his life.
He was a very lucky man.
His partner interrupted his thoughts. “What do we know so far?”
Croft thought about the information he’d just read. “Monkeys.”
“Huh?” Briggs looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Ever see that cartoon of the three monkeys? The one has his eyes covered, one his mouth, and then the last is his ears?”
Briggs knew exactly what he was talking about. “See no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil?”
“Yep.”
“But what evil are they trying to not notice?”
Croft leaned back in his seat to get a few hours of sleep before they landed in Vegas. They’d be working as soon as they landed. “I think that’s what the killer wants us to figure out.”
“Great. We have a killer that likes puzzles.”
He wasn’t thrilled himself, but at least he’d be at his woman’s side to ensure that she wasn’t in danger.
After all, protecting her was his job.
* * *
Emma tossed and turned the entire night. Her dreams were filled with b
lood, dead women, and finding herself ensnared in the killer’s trap. When she woke with a start, her fingers went to her lips to make sure that there weren’t any stitches there.
When her heart rate slowed, she picked up her phone to find a text from her husband.
I love you. I’m sorry I missed your call.
Just knowing he was thinking about her, chased away most of the demons. Without him, she’d be completely and totally lost. It was rare to have a bad dream, but unfortunately they did happen. Now that Greyson was away, they were happening nightly. What she needed was that big scary FBI guy to chase them away for her.
Sliding out of bed, she straightened up and then began her morning routine. It was another day and soon she’d have to head into work. Trying to keep the peace between the detectives and the FBI was going to be a monumental task.
Great.
It was one more thing to add to her résumé. She was the new police ambassador. It fell on her to keep the maiming to a minimum and everything running smoothly.
Grabbing her coffee, she headed out to the patio and waited for the sun to rise. Closing her eyes, Emma began her meditative inhalations. She began breathing in and out to help focus on day ahead. Meditation was her coping mechanism after her brother’s death. It allowed her center herself and work through anything.
What really worked best was a sweaty bout of sex with the most handsome man in the world. If he didn't get home soon, she might have to sneak into Quantico just to have her way with her husband. The visual heated her body and made her blood boil. Emma allowed herself to be immersed in the fantasy a few more seconds, until the warmth threatened to overwhelm her.
What she needed now was a cold shower.
Damn the FBI and their meetings.
Driving into work was generally a cathartic thing, but this morning she was tired and worried about the killer taking another victim. When the FBI finally got into the game, there would be so much less pressure. By now, Greyson knew that they needed help from his agents and knowing him, he’d never send in anyone but the best.
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 6