Emma reached up for two travel mugs in the top shelf, and before her hands could even touch them, he was right there beside her, pulling them down. His body was incredibly close to hers, and his scent was amazing and making her giddy. It was destined to be a really long day.
Greyson pressed himself against her, reaching over her head for the mugs. Handing them to her, he was enjoying being in her personal space.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, placing them on the counter.
He watched as she dumped coffee into the cup and screwed on the lid. She turned to him and handed him his mug.
Her hair was so close to his face that the scent of lavender wafted up to him, causing his gut to tighten in response.
“Thanks, Emma. I see this coffee thing is getting to be a habit.” He let a smile play across his lips.
“I believe I told you not to get used to it,” she replied, turning and heading for the door, trying to escape. “Come on, Agent Croft. We have to get to my office.” With that, she was out the door and on her way to the driveway. Hopefully, the distance between them would help her catch her breath.
He grinned, knowing that there was a lot more invasion of personal space coming, and both of them were going to have to get accustomed to before it was all said and done.
“Greyson?” she started.
“Yeah?”
“I think he’s going to try and mimic the killings outside Celestia. This is a small town, so his options are going to be limited. Refresh my memory. Where were the first two victims found? Wasn’t the first one in a field, like Megan Landry?”
He thought about it. “Yeah, she was. We found Maggie Wilson on a patch of land, not quite a field. Bekka Drake was found in an abandoned warehouse.”
“Those seem like places a killer would leave a body to me,” she said. “If he’s making it a game, don’t you think he’d try to point out the other killings? He doesn’t know I know about them. If he’s starting over here, maybe he’s going to recycle the places too.”
He hadn’t thought about that possibility. “He could, Emma.”
“I’m really not looking forward to today, Greyson.” She said it with such weariness in her voice that his coffee paused halfway to his mouth.
“I know, honey. None of us are,” he glanced over. “Want to talk about it?”
Emma was contemplating denying it all, but instead simply shook her head. “Not just yet,” she replied. Staring back at the road as the two sat in absolute silence until they arrived at the station.
Briggs was already there in the conference room waiting for them.
The first thing that came to her mind was that she finally beat her secretary into work. Emma stared at the clock, taking note that the next shift of deputies was due into work sometime within the next twenty minutes. It was almost six in the morning, and they’d be sending some out to start a search.
“Did anyone call in a missing person’s report?” Croft asked, hoping to start the ball rolling.
She shook her head. “It would have been on my desk if someone filed one.”
He sipped his coffee.
“What do we do now, Greyson?” Emma needed his guidance. She was feeling helpless again.
“I’m sorry, honey, but we sit and wait, or we figure it out. We don’t have the man power to search the whole town looking for a body.”
“Okay,” she said, pacing back and forth.
He watched her as he finished his coffee. She looked vastly different with her hair pulled back. It made her look like she was in her twenties again. Greyson knew with thirteen years of police work she had to be almost thirty-six but she didn’t look even close to it. He was surprised to hear that she had that many years in experience. He would have sworn she was not a day older than twenty-nine. The closer she was to his age, the better the shot he had at her.
“What if he doesn’t call, Croft?” she asked, “What if he expects us to figure it out? I don’t want to leave this up to him.”
He leaned forward. “Okay, Emma. Let’s think it out. One body found on a plot of land, one in an abandoned warehouse, one on ‘The Crossing’, which is a plot of land,” he said, waiting for her to supply the rest. This was her town.
“You need warehouse like structures,” she added, watching him nod.
Briggs spoke up, “There wasn’t a call for victim number one, her body was accidentally found. They located the car abandoned on the side of the road. Much like Megan Landry’s had been found.”
“Okay, but there was a call for victim number two?” asked Emma.
“No, there wasn’t a call, someone just happened to be planning on renting the abandoned warehouse. I don’t know that we should expect a letter or note,” Briggs said.
Emma pondered it.
“Greyson, we don’t have any abandoned warehouses, but we do have a few abandoned barns.”
“That could work for him, Emma. Do you want to look?” he asked her.
“Yeah, but someone should stay here and wait to see if anything comes in.” They both turned and looked at Briggs.
“Hey! I’ll stay here and wait. Go! I’ll tag you, boss, if I hear anything.”
Emma hustled to her office, grabbing her keys. She met him at the front of the station.
“How many places are we looking at, Emma?” asked Croft.
She counted in her mind. “There’s only a few on the outskirts of town,” she replied. “Most are barns that no one uses anymore. I think that on Waverly road, there’s also a silo that was used to store grain for a local farm. We’ll start at the closest and move our way out.”
“Your town, Sheriff, drive on.”
Together, they drove for about fifteen minutes when Emma slowed the vehicle down in front of an old red barn. It was adjacent to ‘The Crossing’. It was only the first stop, and already, she was getting that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. If the woman was inside the building, she hoped she could pull off sheriff and not crumble in a blubbering heap.
“Do you have Kevlar in the back, Emma?” he asked.
She nodded. “I have two. You want to vest up?” Emma inquired, slowly hopping out.
He met her at the back, where he spoke in hushed tones. “I want you to suit up for me, in case something goes horribly wrong.”
Emma stared at him. “I will if you will, Agent Croft. You’re as much of a target as I am going through that door.”
If it meant keeping her completely safe, he’d do it. “Okay,” he answered, pulling open her trunk and grabbing the first vest. He helped her into it, and strapped her in securely.
“Your turn, Greyson,” she whispered, helping him with the Velcro.
“Are you ready, honey?”
She simply nodded, tripped up by his term of endearment. It was like he said it, not even aware it was coming out of his mouth.
“Be careful,” he hissed in warning.
Drawing his weapon, he began moving, quietly but steadily, toward the barn. It amazed her how effortlessly he went from jovial man to FBI agent. Even his face changed. While they rode in silence, he was completely calm, staring out the window at the landscape as it passed by them. There was little to no tension present the entire time. Now the opposite was true. Even his body under his shirt rippled with pressure. Emma could see the stress moving down his arms.
Croft glanced back at Emma, silently motioning down one side of the structure, and then pointed at her and the other side of the barn.
She nodded her head, understanding the universal hand talk that she used to use all the time on the police force.
He watched her take his signals and head away from the protection of his side. Deep inside him, his gut was twisting in a knot as the space between them grew. Everything in him screamed to keep her with him, where she’d be completely sheltered. Then again, if he did that, there’d be hell to pay. Greyson needed to trust her as his partner now, and believe Emma could handle anything she encountered on the way around the building.
&nb
sp; Still, he said a silent prayer.
Emma proceeded to cover her assigned area, gun drawn, eyes scanning and nothing being missed. There were no windows to look into the aging monstrosity, so most of her visual search was of the land around it. As she walked to the corner and peered around, Emma was just in time to see Croft give her the ‘clear’ signal.
They both met at the double barn doors and Croft leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You go in low, and I’ll take high.” He waited for confirmation before they began.
She held up her hand and counted them down.
Greyson stared into her eyes, and knew that the old street habits had come back for her. Gone was the woman and in her place was the capable cop. He had nothing to worry about. Emma could hold her own.
On three, he went in high and she took low, both of them scanning with their guns. The floors creaked, the doors groaned, but they kept moving despite the sound distraction. Once inside, they separated again and began checking the barn.
When Croft had finished the lower level, he climbed into the loft and cleared that too.
“Not a sign of anyone here,” he called from the loft. The agent holstered his gun, snapping it closed before leaning over the side of the opening and hanging there by his arms. Croft dropped down from the opening, landing beside Emma as she was replacing the gun into her holster.
The strength in his physique made it hard to concentrate as she took in his form. Forcing herself to focus, she continued, “One eliminated from our list of potential scenes,” she stated, walking out of the rickety old barn and back to her ride. Croft was right behind her, and she knew he was observing her again. It made her body temperature swell.
“You’re fairly light on your feet,” he admitted, watching her carry herself like so many law enforcement agents he knew. They continued to the Jeep in silence, but he could tell she was dwelling on his words. Her nervousness entertained him, and only made him want to move faster into her life.
Emma wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say to that, or where he was heading with it.
“Do you miss it, Emma?”
She stopped just as the key was placed in the ignition, and her hand paused as she contemplated the answer.
Greyson was aware of the emotion sweeping across her face, only to be buried deep once more.
“NO.”
The tone of her voice warned him to tread lightly. This topic was a minefield to navigate, and he knew it.
“I’m betting you were really good at your job. You’re a natural at it--cool and calm under stress. I just don’t understand why you would give it up and come here.”
Emma wanted to get angry that he was pushing for an answer, but she couldn’t. They were in the field together, and the man trusted her with his life. As much as she wanted to tell him to mind his own damn business, she understood the curiosity. If their roles were reversed, she’d be the same way.
It felt like an eternity went by before Emma said anything, and Croft really believed they were heading to a disagreement.
“Next place on the list?” she suggested, letting the entire conversation go. “I think we should hit the grain silo.”
“I’m ready,” he stated, and then paused. “Emma, you can tell me anything. I’ll listen and not judge you.”
Croft put his hand on her arm and could feel the tension vibrating through her body.
“I don’t miss it. People change, Agent Croft, and that’s all there is to it.” Emma couldn’t look at him because then, he’d know the truth. Yes, she missed it, but she didn’t miss the blood and death. She was born to be a cop, but living with the horror was too much. The day she lost Gage, everything changed. “I told you all there is to tell.” It was more lies, but she was hoping that he’d drop the subject. At this point in her life, this was all she could handle. Maybe one day she’d heal and be able to go back, but it wasn’t looking like a possibility. She’d need a miracle.
One of his skills was that he was very good at measuring people. It was needed in this line of work. The easiness of the lies she handed out, bothered him. There had to be a way to break through and get her to see he wouldn’t run from the truth once she shared it.
He made a vow to stick with her until he made headway. For some reason, he knew he needed to stand with the woman seated beside him.
“Okay, Emma. I understand that things change.” He let it go for now, but more change was coming, whether she liked it or not. He only hoped she’d be prepared for what it would bring.
They traveled in silence for ten more minutes until Emma could see the silo in the distance. Greyson sat staring out the window the entire time Emma drove. It made her nervous because it meant he was thinking. Somehow, she believed a contemplative Croft was a dangerous one.
When the Jeep came to a stop, he quickly glanced over at her. “Shall we, Emma?” His voice was neutral, despite what was brewing inside him.
She nodded, knowing if she spoke, her voice would break.
Staring at her, it was hard to miss the sudden look of frailty visible. It took everything he had to not pull her into his arms and wrap himself protectively around her.
“If you can’t do this…” he started.
“I’ll hold up,” she reassured, patting his knee.
Croft nodded, placing his hand over hers for that brief moment of connection. When her hand turned and held his squeezing, his heart faltered in his chest.
“Let’s get it done, Greyson,” she said, softly.
Reluctantly, he released her. Moving towards the structure, they began the same routine as the last time. Splitting up at the silo to clear the sides, it was Emma, who finally stopped him and pulled his ear down to her lips.
“This is it. Can you smell the blood?”
The only thing he could smell was the scent of lavender coming from her hair. There may be death lurking ahead of them but at that moment, Croft was desperately struggling to not pull her against him.
“We need to get inside,” she stated, pulling away from the man. When Emma was near him, she had to admit there was this warmth and feeling of complete safety.
Once Emma was out of his reach, he still couldn’t smell the blood. The woman must have amazing olfactory nerves, or he was just so used to the smell of death that it didn’t faze him.
Croft spoke too soon. As they approached the entrance, it finally hit him.
“Pennies,” he whispered to her. The tinge of copper filled the air, mixing with the scent of internal organs. Whatever was inside wasn’t going to be pleasant. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to protect her.
Emma concurred that there was blood in the air. Holding up her hand, she began counting them down.
Croft was ready, focused on the inside of the building and keeping the woman beside him safe. All gentleness was gone, and he was tense and on guard.
He pointed high, and then at himself, gaining a nod of acknowledgement from her. They both knew that chances were the killer was gone, leaving behind the spoiled ruin of life.
On three, they moved to enter the building. Croft yanked the door open, and the sight that hit Emma almost brought her to her knees.
It was all the blood.
There was so much of it.
It threatened to break her.
Somehow, Emma managed to hang on, putting it behind her and focusing at the situation at hand. The lost lives of her family had to wait. Now, it was time to do the job. She headed towards the victim, leaving her partner to clear the circular structure. Emma trusted him enough to assure they were safe from anything hiding in the shadows.
The smell was almost overwhelming, and when Croft turned around, he found Emma down on her knees in front of the mutilated body. He hurried over to her and crouched down beside her, to stare into her eyes.
“Honey, are you all right?” he asked in concern.
“No, Croft. I’ll never be okay again,” she admitted, finally. So much loss and death, and it weighed heavily on her soul
. Now, she’d be adding one more mark that wouldn’t ever be washed away. Reaching into her pocket, Emma pulled out latex gloves and tossed him a pair.
“I want to wrap this up and get out of here. I need to get out of here.” Emma turned from him, to hide the pain she was feeling in that moment. It crushed down on her, threatening to sink her even more deeply into the darkness. So much for running from death because here is was again, staring her in the face.
Mocking her as only death could do.
The need to protect and wrap her up in his arms flooded into him once more. “We’ll finish this and get out of here, honey,” he promised. At that moment, he would have given her anything she asked, if only to remove that look in her eyes.
“Okay,” she whispered, trusting the man she barely knew.
As Emma stood above the dead woman, a beam of light was shining through an opening at the top of the silo. It illuminated her and the victim. There was beauty and destruction together, frozen in the moment. How he wanted to get her away from all this. If he could, he’d steal her away from the horror of it all and take her back to his home.
Emma knew they had a job to do. She needed to begin collecting any evidence and working the scene. Hustling out to the vehicle, she grabbed her kit and rushed back into the silo to start. Croft was on the phone, telling his partner where they were and to get there fast.
“I don’t want us out here with the killer running around, Curtis,” he stated, watching Emma kneel just outside the blood pooling around the victim, soaking into the dirt ground.
“I’m on my way now. I’ll be there before you know it. Is the sheriff okay?” he asked, hearing the urgency in his partner’s voice.
“No.”
Briggs didn’t ask any more questions. He was well aware that the woman had to be relatively close to his partner for him not to elaborate.
“Just get here. We need backup.”
Emma began bagging all the evidence scattered on the ground. First, she gingerly placed the tattered clothing in the bag. It appeared they were ripped off her in violence.
“He’s escalating,” she stated. “Your profiler was absolutely right. I wish he’d been wrong.”
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 11
