“I hope you’re hungry. I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he admitted. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of picking out the menu personally.”
Emma smiled as she rested against her husband’s body. Randall Mason made her uneasy, only because she didn't know where all this was heading. Yet, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he rattled her.
“I’m sure you have questions for me,” he said, dropping his napkin in his lap.
Croft nodded. “We do. Would you like to eat or do this over dinner?”
The man grinned over at him. “I would love to sit here and just eat, but I know that you aren’t dining with me because you want to socialize.”
Emma knew it was time to begin. “What is it that you want from me, Mr. Mason?”
“My dear, you are very suspicious, but I guess that is what makes you a very good cop. I only wish to get to know you.”
Croft left a kiss on her temple. They were in this together. Since the man didn't say no to work at dinner, he opted to run with it. It would mean getting the hell out of there sooner.
“Can you tell us about your last seamstress?” Croft asked, rubbing his stubbly chin against Emma’s lavender scented hair.
He looked surprised. “I haven’t thought about her in decades. Is this all connected to her?”
Emma shrugged. “It might be.”
“Any details you wish to share? As you already suspect, I’ve been updated by Commissioner Booker.”
Croft tensed but covered it. It seemed their suspicions were right, and now he had confirmation. “I’m not surprised. He is your very good friend.”
Mason lifted his shoulders noncommittally. “He has his uses, I suppose. It is more of a relationship built out of business than anything else.”
The door opened and three waiters walked in carrying the trays with silver domed plates. One was paced in front of each one of them.
“I hope my research was correct,” he said as the men lifted the domes. Under Emma’s sat a vegetarian dish and under Mason’s and Croft’s sat huge steaks. “I believe you don’t eat meat because of your past.” He let it hang between them, and then he pointed at her husband, “and you gave it up for her but still favor it. Tonight is a special night, and I figured you could indulge.”
Neither spoke.
The man laughed. “Come, come, you two. I wouldn’t be rich and who I am if I didn't have connections.”
Emma looked over at her husband and was ready to throw down the challenge. “Grey, want to share your steak?”
He knew what she was doing. His wife would make Randall Mason question the source of his information. There was no doubt who was funneling it to him.
The commissioner.
“Sure honey,” he cut it in half, and placed it on her plate.
Emma in return, shared half her vegetarian entrée.
Mason simply stared openmouthed.
“Now, back to your prior seamstress’s name?” Emma said, cutting into the steak. Oh God, she prayed she could pull this off. Immediately, her husband’s hand stroked her back.
“Her name was Bridgette Williams.” He watched Emma with the steak and was willing to bet it was a bluff. The information he’d gotten said she couldn’t touch meat because her brother was slaughtered like cattle.
Placing the first bite of steak in her mouth, she chewed and pulled out her phone to text it to Curtis. “The steak is very good,” she said, taking a second bite.
Greyson was very proud of her. “You should try the asparagus, Em. It’s seasoned just the way you like it. It appears whoever told you it was her favorite got that right at least.” He fed her a spear, hoping the taste would keep her from tossing her cookies.
“Thank you, babe.” She chewed and then lightly kissed her husband on the lips. He was her strength in that moment.
Randall Mason watched them, unsure what to think. Apparently, he needed a better source. He had been assured first hand that this was one of her weaknesses.
“Why did she leave?” Emma inquired, cutting off another piece. “Can you pass me the steak sauce, Grey?”
He did and then winked at her.
Emma just wanted to drown the taste of meat as fast as possible. Thank God, they’d been working on it.
“I have no idea,” Mason said, getting angry. He’d wanted the control, but now it wasn’t his.
Croft noticed the man was rattled and his game was off so much that he could tell he was lying. “Too bad.”
“Now, a question if I may?”
Emma ate another bite of steak. “Yes?”
“Why do you dislike me?”
She thought about it. “Even though you just lied to me about Bridgette Williams, I won’t lie to you. I don’t know you well enough to like or hate you.”
Croft knew she just opened the door to being sucked into the mess. If this man was the one throwing out the kickbacks, she’d just offered him a chance to draw them into his corner. Now Mason could woo the couple to the dark side.
God, he hoped this didn't get her hurt. He knew the man was obsessed with his wife.
“I will keep that in mind,” he offered smiling.
“You could tell me about your first wife,” she said, watching the smile flicker, but hold.
“Maybe one day I will my dear, just not today.”
Emma nodded. “You know your son had sex with all four victims before they died.”
His hand shook.
“Also, the last victim was HIV positive.”
Croft watched as she rattled his cage.
“Are you saying my son’s sick?” he asked, his eyes filling with emotion. He was all there was left, even if he was a colossal disappointment in his life.
What he wanted was a child like this woman. Smart, quick and not someone who could bend under the weight of money and intimidation.
“He may be.”
“Do you think he’s the killer?”
Emma shook her head. “No offense, Mr. Mason, but Dyer is too busy dicking around with random women to be an evil genius.”
He laughed and looked at Croft. “I see why you refused Tom Booker’s offer of other women. Your wife is priceless.”
Croft didn't know if the man was proving he had ears everywhere or of he was simply issuing a statement.
“I’m well aware. As I told Tom, I won’t ever cheat on my wife. She’s all I want and need.”
“If you did, you’d be a very stupid man, Director Croft. I somehow doubt that an ignorant guy would have caught her attention in the first place.” He thought about it. “I lived that way once myself, until the love of my life was taken from me. It changes everything when someone swoops in and steals your heart.”
Croft’s entire body went ridged. If the man thought he’d give up Emma without a fight, he was dead wrong.
By some huge miracle, Emma finished her steak. “Tomorrow, I’d like to come by your home early. I need to interview your housekeeper. Your son used her as an alibi.”
“My doors are always open for you,” he said, moving to his desk and pulling out a card and a key. “This is to my gate and this one opens my door.”
“Why?” she asked, staring at them.
“By your own admission, I’m giving you a way to get to know me, and then make your decision. I’m betting there are big misconceptions brewing in both of your minds.”
Emma took them. “Thank you,” she said, taking her husband’s hand in hers. “We appreciate dinner, but we have to go.”
He looked sad. “But I had your favorite dessert made just for you,” he offered. “It’s a light and airy strawberry shortcake.”
They stood and Greyson wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.
“I don’t know where you got your information from,” Emma said. “That’s not my favorite dessert.”
Now, the man looked stirred up. “What is then?” he practically raged as they headed for the door.
Emma looked
back over her shoulder. “When I eat dessert, Mr. Mason, I really do only like one thing.”
He waited.
Croft answered for her. “Chocolate cupcakes,” he answered, earning a kiss.
“Maybe whoever you have put your trust in should be fired. Next time, just ask Greyson. He’s the only expert on me. The rest is just hearsay.”
Together they walked out, hand in hand, leaving a very irate Randall Mason behind. They had taken the first step and the game and players were now in motion.
God help them all.
~ Chapter Twenty ~
Time was running out.
Mason needed to pay for his past, and the FBI was getting closer and closer. Unfortunately, not in the direction needed. They were supposed to make him look bad.
Not find the killer.
They were way too close for comfort. It wasn’t about being caught. If that was what fate had in mind, then so be it. But before there’d be jail or the chair, there’d be death.
For now, one thing remained as the focus. Randall Mason had to pay.
There was one thing in the world the man had that he cherished a little bit more than his money.
It was his son.
It was time to give Dyer Mason a sending off party no one would ever forget, especially the father.
The laughter bubbled up at that word. It brought shame and horror to even think it. Yet it was the absolute truth.
There was one shot left at settling the score, and the first bullet in the gun had his name on it.
Goodbye, Dyer, you worthless genetic piece of shit.
“This one’s for you, Mom.”
* * *
Saying it was good to be home was an understatement. When they pulled into the safety of the garage, Croft was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Getting Emma out of that building and away from Randall Mason was his priority for the night. Now, he wanted to not dwell on the man who was obsessed with his wife. What they needed was something to give them the break they needed in finding the killer.
Their suspect list was dwindling and they needed something fast.
Once inside, they found their condominium wasn’t empty. On the couch was Briggs, and he’d made himself comfortable while eating cookies.
“Get your feet off the table,” Croft growled at the man, causing Emma to start laughing.
“Mom, Dad, you’re both home early. Thank God, I got the hookers out of here fast,” Briggs teased back. “Cookie?” he offered Emma.
“Why is everyone trying to feed my girl dessert tonight?” he stated, putting water on to make his wife a cup of tea.
Emma laughed. “Babe, you know I only like one thing,” and when she wiggled her eyebrows he grinned wickedly.
“God, you two aren’t talking about cookies and cake, are you?” Briggs asked. “Never mind, don’t tell me. I’m going to guess by the boss’s mood, it wasn’t a good time at the Crassmount.”
Sitting beside him, Emma shrugged. “We did get more information, and you need to get on it. We’re running out of time.”
“Did you find anything on Doctor Russell?” he called from the kitchen.
“Not yet. She’s still being run through the system. When it beeps, I’ve got my information, but until then I’ve got nothing.”
“We need Harrison Tyler run, along with his boyfriend Jeffrey Martin.”
“As you wish, ma’lady,” he retorted, bowing his head in a mock gesture, and then promptly typing the information into his note pad to make sure he didn't miss anything.
Croft ignored him. He was generally used to his partner’s antics. It must have been a good night at the hospital. “We also found the seamstress’s name, so add Bridgette Williams to the background check list too. Run all our suspects against her.”
“I’ve already started that one. I got Emma’s text earlier. Do you think she’s the link?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think she’s the center. I just don’t know how the four showgirls fit in. The only person they all have in common is Dyer Mason.”
Briggs jumped in adding, “Or the doctor if I could find the connection with Sara Jensen. Right now, I’m checking the federal government’s database for student loans. If Sara Jensen applied for aid, she’ll be in there. I figured since the doctor stated she taught it was a valid place to start.”
“Good work, Curtis,” Emma said stretching. “How’s Brynn doing?” she asked, remembering her partner. “Is she all patched up?” Emma wanted to go see her, but there was that horrific sense of guilt. For now, she was trying to stay focused on the case, and then she’d take care of partner duties.
“She’s doing really well. She helped me with the searches, we had dinner, and then she fell asleep. I left her and came here because your pad is rocking and the hospital isn’t.”
Croft shook his head. “You’re not moving in for the rest of your life. You’re putting a damper on my sex life.”
Emma snickered. “I’m going to take a shower.” She took the hot steaming mug of tea from her husband. “My hero,” she said, grinning.
Greyson leaned down to leave kisses across her cheek and lips. “I’ll be right in, honey.” When she was gone, he looked at the younger agent. “I need a favor.”
The look on Croft’s face said it all. “Uh oh. What’s brewing, boss man?”
He pulled one of his cards from behind his ID and scribbled down a bank name and address. “I need you to promise me that if anything happens to me, anything at all, you’ll hold her up and get her through it.”
This wasn’t the conversation he was expecting. “You know I will, but why the gloom and doom?”
“I can’t say, but promise me that you’ll protect her if I die.”
Briggs officially hated this conversation. “I promise, but come one, this is a little extreme, don’t you think?”
He handed the man the card. “That’s the combination to the safe in our closet where I keep the official copy of my will. If I go down in the line of duty or anything else steals me away, I need you to take care of Emma. I don’t trust anyone but you. I want you to pack her up and get her the hell out of this city.”
Curtis took the card. “Okay, big guy,” he finally answered, taking the card.
“Thank you,” he said, knowing step one was taken care of, and now he needed to implement the next part of the plan. Before he left the room, he paused. “Curtis?”
“Yeah?”
He pondered how much to tell him. “You know me pretty well right?”
“We’ve been partners for a year, so I think so.”
“Past tonight, don’t believe everything you hear, okay?”
That caught him off guard.
“Go with your gut and your heart. It’s the difference between a great agent and a mediocre one.”
Watching his friend and boss walk away, Curtis put the card in his wallet, safely tucked behind his driver’s license. As he tried to focus on work, one thing kept racing through his mind.
Something bad was coming.
The conversation he just had with Greyson Croft proved it.
* * *
When Emma exited the shower, she found him sitting on the edge of their bed. He wasn’t looking like himself, and that worried her. His eyes carried so much worry and fear that was weighing him down.
She would give anything to make him smile and laugh again and to be carefree like he was when she first met him. Already in less than two months, he’d changed.
“Grey?” she called, drawing his attention.
He looked up, silver, stormy eyes meeting her crystal green ones. “Emma we need to talk.”
Crap! That couldn’t be good, and she knew it.
Crossing to him, she allowed him to pull her down to sit beside him. “You’re scaring me,” she said honestly as she stared into his handsome face. Her hand went to his cheek, and his lips found her palm.
“I need a favor from you.”
She searched his eyes. “Grey, you know you c
an have anything you ask. I’ll give you my life if you wanted it.”
“Please start wearing Kevlar under your clothes. I just have this feeling that we’re going to be going in deep and if I know you’re wearing body armor, I can breathe.”
“Grey,” she whispered, leaving kisses all over his face.
“I know it’s hot out and it’s going to be the most miserable thing I can ask of you, but Emma, please. For my sanity, I need you to suit up.”
“I will if you will,” she promised. “I need to breathe too, Grey.”
He nodded, resting his forehead against hers. “I want to get into bed and hold you in my arms.”
Her heart was breaking at his fear laden words. “Yes, Grey, always,” she promised.
When he stood, he slipped his gun off and placed it on the bed stand beside where he slept. After that, he took off his shirt, and thought about it. “Here, put it on,” he stated, handing it to his woman.
Emma complied, since it was one of her most favorite things in the world. The shirt was very ‘Croft-y’ and the cologne offered her comfort. Crawling across the bed, she slipped under their covers and waited for her husband to brush his teeth. When he came back in, she immediately went into his arms and allowed him to find the peace he craved.
Lying there, she drew patterns across his chest as she tried to give him more comfort.
“You know it’s going to all work out, don’t you Grey?” she whispered into the darkness of the room, waiting for his reply.
“Yes, honey.”
Emma relaxed and closed her eyes as her husband laid there staring at the ceiling, He was having a hard time letting go, only because he lied and didn't believe it one little bit.
Nothing was going to be the same again.
The nightmares began shortly after falling asleep. He was trying to get to her but the multiple doors kept blocking his way. Emma was screaming for him and begging him to reach her as fast as possible.
He just couldn’t do it.
No matter what, he couldn’t get to Emma’s side.
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 50