She started laughing. “I get it. You’re territorial.”
“I prefer possessive or doting. It sounds less caveman-ish and makes me look like a loving boyfriend.”
Emma didn’t know if he was serious or not. There were moments where he was hard to read.
Then the grin on his face said it all.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I have to wonder why she was working on a Saturday.”
He had to agree with her. “It seems odd that she’s going to be at the mayor’s office on the weekend. Isn’t her job Monday through Friday?”
“Yeah, same as mine.”
Greyson began laughing. “I only wish I worked Monday through Friday.” He rolled his neck again, trying to get the tension out.
Emma crossed to stand behind him, and began working the knots from his neck as they talked. “Do you think he’s picking his women based on their sexual behaviors, or what he would deem whores?”
Croft thought about it and tried not to moan in complete pleasure. “He very well could be. If he views their acts or lives to be deviant, it could be a motivating factor in his rage. I think we need to send the new information over to the profiler and get an update on our killer. He might have had a past experience with a deviant female authority figure.”
“Good idea,” she said, massaging his neck.
“Oh, honey, just like that,” he moaned, closing his eyes.
Briggs walked in laughing. “You know what that sounded like from out there,” he said, grinning.
Emma wasn’t sure if she should be laughing or look horrified. “Close the door. I don’t need the men here thinking I’m putting out in my office. I’ll never get them out of here.”
Greyson growled at the images that drew in his mind.
Briggs quickly jumped in regarding the assignment. “They searched the entire car. There were prints from her, her husband and one other set, yet identifiable. Deputies Marshall, Thomas, and Ridge are out doing a search and sweep for more evidence, footprints, or even chewed gum. There’s nothing to do until they find something or until the killer calls.”
“I hate this part,” she added, staring at the clock on the wall. “It’s not even six in the morning yet. I’m going back to the cabin to get changed, grab my guns, and eat some breakfast. There’s no point sitting here in suspense. I have a feeling that today is going to be a very long day.”
“I’ll come with you, especially if you’re cooking,” teased Croft, putting out a hand and waiting for Emma to take it. She did, and he pulled her protectively under his arm.
“You know my deputies are going to be making up sordid stories about us if you keep doing this,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist.
“I’m not worried. Let them talk. I’m not your boss or your partner.” He grabbed the keys from her desk. “We’re also going to discuss you leaving your guns at home. I want you to carry them with you everywhere until this is over. Understand?” He thought back to the message on her milk jug, and that the killer was picking women he deemed whores.
“Yes, Dad.”
Croft whispered in her ear. “Keep calling me that and the men definitely will talk,” he said, nipping her lobe.
Emma blushed and changed the subject, embarrassed by the implications. “Let’s go eat.”
“I happen to love breakfast,” said Briggs, almost sounding like a lost child. “What are you making?”
“I don’t know, maybe some blueberry buckwheat pancakes,” she answered, looking at Briggs. “I’m trying to get my love muffin to eat better.”
Briggs stared at her openmouthed. Then he fought for composure at the nickname she gave his partner. He was pretty sure that everyone called him Croft, or sir, out of fear. “Figures, I get to stay here and do background checks and miss the food.”
Emma looked up at Croft and raised an eyebrow, questioningly.
He sighed, knowing his chance to get her naked just went down the drain. “You know what, Briggs? Tablets are portable for a reason, so let’s get moving.”
“Sure thing, love muffin,” he snickered.
“When she says it, I get warm and fuzzy. When you say it, I get mean and cranky.”
Emma patted his jean-clad ass. “This is why you need to eat better. All the sugar makes you uptight.”
Croft leaned down and kissed her fast, right in front of most of her deputies. When he pulled away she looked ready to kill. “Wow! That made me feel so much less uptight. How about you?”
On the way out to the car, this time, it was Emma who growled.
Back at the cabin, both men insisted on keeping her safe by going in first. When they were sure it was fine, he motioned to Emma.
“Grey, this has to stop,” Emma stared at him, hands on her hips. “I’m not a child. I think I can go into my house first.”
He shrugged ignoring her words. “Then keep your guns with you.” He waited for an argument, but she simply threw her arms up in surrender and headed for the kitchen.
“Fine you, Neanderthal. I’ll start breakfast.” She went to work silently as Croft made some coffee.
Briggs sat on the sofa and began doing research on Billy Barnes and Betty Kline. All the sudden he yelped, causing them both to race into the room.
“What?” Greyson inquired, hand on the butt of his gun.
“What the hell is that thing?” he said, pointing at the cat.
Emma started laughing and headed back to making breakfast. She’d thought the same thing when she first saw the big ball of fluff.
“That’s our cat,” Croft answered.
“You both have a cat together, already?”
Emma laughed even more from the kitchen. “I fell in love and the cat came with the sexy man. I had no say in this,” she defended herself. “That’s Grey’s furball. It just lives here with us now.”
“Does it have a name?”
Croft told him and stared at Emma, waiting to see if his partner would get it. When he didn’t make a comment, they both grinned.
“Yeah, well, I’m a dog person.”
“Welcome to my world,” stated Emma, carrying food out to the table. She called the men over to start eating. Briggs practically ran Greyson over to get to the pancakes.
“Seriously, you’re wasting your time with him. He doesn’t appreciate you,” he said, staring at the pancakes. “I’ll be your love muffin. In fact, I’ll be a big fat rolly polly one.”
“I sincerely hope he’s directing that conversation at the food because if he thinks I won’t make this his last meal, he’s out of his mind,” stated Croft, laughing.
“Man, this smells really good.” He smiled at Emma and poured himself a cup of coffee as he sat down.
“I’m going to go get changed,” she replied, walking to her room.
Croft placed pancakes on his and Emma’s plate as he watched her walk away. He would force her to eat if need be. He poured the syrup and began eating.
“Wow, these are good,” Briggs stated, as he continued to inhale his food. “You’re a really lucky man,” his partner stated.
“I’m aware,” Grey answered, drinking his coffee.
Both men glanced over as Emma walked down the hall fully dressed. She wore all black today and had her hair pulled back into a low ponytail, the tail end full of cascading curls.
“How’s everything, boys?” she asked.
“Good, now sit and eat,” ordered Greyson. When Emma did it without an argument, he simply lifted an eyebrow. He and Briggs shared a look. Getting her to eat was a challenge, but now she was going to do it willingly?
Alarm bells went off.
Emma sipped her coffee and took a bite of the pancakes. She put down her fork and noticed they were staring at her.
“What?” she asked, glancing around.
Briggs stared down at his food as Greyson’s eyes never left her face as he continued to chew.
“I’m fine.”
He didn't shift his focus as she squirmed.
> “When you do that you make me really nervous,” she stated.
“Really?” he asked, using one of the oldest FBI tricks in the book. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes!” Emma continued eating, and wouldn’t look him in the eyes. In fact, she wasn’t okay at all. In the back of her mind, she kept picturing a smiling Betty Kline, and what she knew he was going to do to her. Damn the man for seeing right through her façade.
Croft knew she was worried. There were lines furrowing her brow, marking her stress and he wanted to kiss them away. He suspected she was worked up about the missing woman.
Emma had mixed feelings. Using her mind again, solving, sleuthing, and finding the bad guy made her feel alive. When this was all over, she wondered if she could go back to paperwork behind a desk. There was still that fear of wading through all the blood, but with Croft by her side, the fear was abating. The man gave her peace back.
Confidence.
Life.
Who would have known that in five days he would begin healing years of hurt and damage? The saying was true--love healed.
Emma Starling was on her way back to living, and it felt good.
“We’ll all get through this,” Greyson said, taking her hand in his. “No worries, Emma.”
Before she could comment, her cell phone rang. Emma pulled it out of her pocket, fully expecting it to be one of her deputies.
“Shit! Greyson. It’s the killer.”
He squeezed her fingers in reassurance. “It’s show time.”
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
Sunday Morning
He demanded she put it on speakerphone because Croft wanted to hear every word this maniac said to Emma. He wasn’t taking any chances that the killer was going to tag her next.
“Hello?” she answered calmly, feeling her stomach twist into knots. She looked around the table at the two men. No one was moving and she was pretty sure everyone’s breath was being held in anticipation.
“She’s dead you know,” came the muffled whisper.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, trying to get insight into the killer’s mind.
There was this sick laugh. “Because they were all whores and everyone needed to see what they were really like.”
“You’re sick and I’m going to stop you.”
“I hope you try, Sheriff. Were you afraid when you got my message? You and the agent looked really good together in bed. I see he likes a whore too,” he hissed into the phone.
Croft’s body filled with rage as he listened.
“You think you can scare me with red marker on a milk carton?” she demanded, knowing he’d done just that. “Why don’t you be a real man and face me right now? Then we can see who’s really scared. Are you afraid I’ll take your life first?”
There was what sounded like a howl.
“You think you can stop me, whore? I’m in charge, and I’m freeing mankind from the impure and unclean. I have already claimed another piece of trash.”
“Where?” she demanded, knowing he’d want her to find the body first. It was a game, and they were going to eventually meet in battle.
A bloody one.
“Head to Wilkinson’s cornfield, whore. She’s bleeding out as we speak. You’ll be my final one in Celestia, before I move on. I look forward to meeting you one on one…immensely.” There was perverse laughter then the line went dead.
Briggs watched Emma’s hands shake. He couldn’t tell if it was rage or fear.
Croft was up and racing to the door, both people following him in his wake.
“Briggs, we’re going to drop Emma off at the station and head to where the killer left the body.”
“No way in hell, Greyson! Last I looked, I’m still sheriff in this town. I go and there’s not going to be any arguments,” Emma demanded, her temper rising. “Or I start investigating on my own. Do you want that?”
“Curtis, wait for me outside.”
Briggs was more than happy to get the hell out of there before someone got maimed.
“Emma, listen to me, please. He’s trying to get to you. He was here in your house, and he wants to prove that he can beat you. I don’t want you wandering around in a cornfield where he can be sitting, waiting for you to wander away.”
“Damn it, Greyson! I’m not a child who might roam away. I’m a grown woman with a gun. In fact, I’m the sheriff of this town, and it’s my job to be there. If he wants to take a shot at me, then you need to trust me. I need to know you have my back, not just my damn heart.”
Croft’s fists clenched at his sides. “Emma, I don’t want you to get hurt. I am getting sick, thinking that it could be you I find in a field one day.”
She walked over to him and put her head on his shoulder and felt all her anger washing away. “Grey, I don’t go down that easy. This is who I once was. Let me finish this so we can get on with life. If he thinks he can get me, let him try. He’ll be in for a big surprise.”
“You want him focused on you!” The rage was there that she was willing offering herself up as bait.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. The minute we slept together and he knew, it made me a whore, and I’ll use that to keep another woman safe. I don’t want to fight you on this. When it’s all over, I need to do this to heal. I want my life back, Grey. I want an opportunity with you.”
He sighed.
“Let me be who I once was. I want to be whole again for you and what our future together holds.”
Croft didn’t like it at all, but he wanted that chance at something past Celestia. It was a huge risk, and he knew it.
“Let’s go, Grey. Let’s help Betty Kline get her dignity back.”
“Promise me that you’ll stick by either Briggs or myself the entire time. If he gets you, I can’t go on. I won’t be able to face life without you, now that I found you.”
She stroked his cheek. “Deal. Let’s suit up in Kevlar, call the station, and get moving.”
Deep down, he knew this was probably a huge tactical error, but Greyson Croft would put all his faith in her skill and make the biggest gamble of his life.
Emma mentally prepared herself as they drove for the cornfield. It was going to be the worst-case scenario for a law enforcement officer. It screamed trap, and they all knew it. The killer picked this place for a reason, and now, they needed to let the game play out.
The call had been made for the deputies to meet them there with the techs, and Doctor Brooks was on standby for the body removal and evidence retrieval.
They were all on edge, but Croft was strung tighter than a bow. In seconds, his planned out future could end. He had to make sure Emma stayed safe.
“We’re here,” she said, as they pulled to a stop.
“How big is this field?” questioned Croft, already working out his strategy.
She contemplated it. “It’s got to be about two acres. Should we spread out and start looking?”
“No, we wait for the deputies. The killer wants us wandering around unorganized, and that’s the last thing we’re going to do. Normally, I’d be worried about armed men wandering through the maize, but now I want everyone ready just in case this bastard is sitting in the field waiting for you.”
Emma had no time to respond. The three cars rolled up, followed by the tech staff. The deputies were ready. Emma nodded at Marshall, Ridge, and Reese.
“Guys, we’re going to have to search the field for the body, and I want you all to be prepared. Our killer could still be in there.” Emma handed it over to Croft, since he looked like he needed to be in control of something.
He began handing out instructions, much like a general in the Army. It was proof of his background. Greyson started to direct the deputies and lab staff on where to enter the field. “Tech agents stay here until we clear the field. Wait for my directive to enter,” he stated, before turning toward Emma and Briggs.
“Ready?” he asked. They nodded and started into the field. A silent message passed between
Croft and Briggs. Curtis nodded and took his place on one side of Emma as Croft did the same. They entered the field of seven-foot cornstalks, squeezing through the rows. Both Briggs and Croft were scanning the space in front of Emma. They could hear the deputies behind them, crashing through the corn.
Emma suddenly stopped and looked around.
“What’s wrong?” Greyson inquired.
“She’s near. I can smell the blood,” she said, starting forward again.
They could see the field opening up and hurried into the clearing. That’s when they all saw it.
Betty Kline was staked up like a scarecrow. It was a terrifying sight, since he’d chosen to eviscerate her. Her guts had turned themselves inside out and hung sickly from her body.
Emma looked to her right in time to see Marshall enter the field. In the span of a heartbeat, he took in the sight, and then proceeded to vomit.
“Christ,” muttered Deputy Reese, turning his head quickly as he tried to avoid seeing the twenty feet of intestines hanging like rope.
Emma focused on the deceased woman only. She blocked out the gagging and retching from her deputies. “Can we bring the techs and doctor in now?” she said, placing her gun back in her holster. It was time to walk around and see what the killer had left them as evidence.
Briggs made the call.
“I know that it’s not protocol,” she said. “But I want her down from there.” The way he’d strung her up was a sick testament to the vileness of the killer’s mind.
Croft handed her a pair of gloves from his pocket. “I’ll help you,” he said, snapping on his own as Briggs hung up the call and began snapping photos with his phone. He’d get as much documented as possible.
They went to work as if on autopilot. The three of them had seen it all before, and her deputies staying back as far as possible. No one could blame them. If there was a choice of being anywhere else, they’d all opt for it too.
Now it was time to take care of the victim.
Betty Kline didn’t die easy.
Before long, the techs found their way to the clearing and were milling around with Doctor Brooks.
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 33
