Emma knew there was other business to attend to before they could leave. “I want someone on Lila. Get Marshall to drive her home and drop her off at the door. If this is Billy killing these women, then Lila is a possible target. He called her a whore and that’s part of this killer’s M.O.”
Croft hung up the phone with the lab.
Reese agreed. “Sure thing and Emma?”
She turned to face him as she slipped into her gun harness. “Yeah, Reese?”
The deputy stared right at the FBI agent, his meaning, and intent crystal clear. “Be careful and don’t let anything happen to you.”
What passed between the two men wasn’t friendly, and here she assumed the pissing match had ended the other night. Obviously, bad blood was still brewing.
“I always am,” she answered, following Croft from the room.
Outside, she tossed him the keys and realized how easily this man had slid beneath her defenses and into her life. A week ago, she was alone and unhappy about it. In the last couple of days, she had started an affair, spilled her secrets, and declared her love for a man who would be leaving shortly. She quite possibly had to be the biggest fool on the planet, but her heart told her to follow this path. Emma didn’t know if she should be excited or scared.
“Are you okay?” he asked, breaking the silence
“Yeah, I am, but do you realize you ask me that a lot?”
“Lately, yes, I have.” He was getting that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Do you recall how you asked me a question earlier and told me not to get mad at you?”
He tried to stay calm as he drove. “Yes.”
“I have one now.”
Greyson glanced over. It didn’t sound case related, so that meant she wanted to discuss them. “I’ll try,” he offered.
“When this is all over, are you leaving?” she asked, visibly catching him off guard.
He didn’t want to scare her, and he didn’t want to not tell her what he was feeling. “Do you want me to stay?”
Two could play the question game. “Do you want me to want you to stay?”
Croft laughed. He got the point. “I think me telling you that I love you, and dragging my cat to your home should tell you everything about me and my intent.”
She relaxed. “I thought you brought that hairball to my house to torment me,” she teased back.
“Okay, you got me there.”
Emma snickered. “I love you, Grey.”
He winked at her. “Then I believe we have our answer.”
It bothered her a little, that he didn’t just say he wanted to stay with her, but she let it go. The man was an enigma as it was, and they were still building the relationship.
It was time to focus.
“Do you think it’s Billy?” she asked.
“It’s looking more and more that way to me. I think we finally may have this under control.”
She snorted and started laughing when he glanced over at her. “Sorry, but we have vastly different definitions of control. The mayor is sleeping with half the town; someone is following him around and killing his ‘whores’. This is not even close to controlled.”
“Point taken,” he said, taking her hand. “You know what bothers me, Emma?”
“Hmmm?”
“Why did Billy break into your house and assault you? Your desk was rifled through, but there’s no reason to do it.”
Emma shrugged. “Maybe he thought I brought work home with me.”
“Are you his next victim? We still haven’t connected Bekka Drake to the mayor. How does she relate to all this?” Croft drove through the town trying to figure out all the answers to those questions.
“Maybe it’s all whores he sees. If Billy was sleeping with Lila, he’d see all the women who Ron Tate was screwing around with, or maybe Lila told him. She has a hard time not running her mouth.”
Croft didn’t like thinking of the woman he loved as a whore.
Emma knew what was going on in his mind. “Because I am a whore in his eyes,” she answered. “I’m sleeping with you, and he knows about it. That makes me a likely target.”
He pulled to a stop in front of Billy’s address, but before he could make a statement about her, she interjected.
“Look,” she stated, pointing to the cabin Billy called home. The front door was wide open, and the car was gone. Emma heard the snap pop open on Greyson’s gun holster and reached down to her own. She had her gun in her hand as she slid out of the Jeep.
“I don’t like this,” muttered Croft. He strategically created his plan, placing Emma behind him.
The two of them crossed to the cabin, climbing over the railing to avoid the steps in front of the open door. They each took a side bracing themselves. Croft mouthed the word go. Emma went in low and pushed the door the rest of the way open.
“Clear,” she whispered, heading to the left and the other rooms.
Croft didn’t like letting her out of his sights, but he had to trust her as his partner in the field. The last room to the right had a closed door, and that made him edgy. Kicking it open, he scanned the room searching for anyone.
Emma returned to his side. “The rest of the house is clear,” she added, still holding her gun, finger not far from the trigger.
He’d already holstered his weapon. Watching Emma, he recognized the nervous habit from too many alleys and too many frightening moments. Greyson said nothing, knowing how she’d made so much progress the last day or two. If she needed to keep her gun in her hand, so be it.
“We don’t have a warrant,” he said, visually sweeping the area, knowing it was risky legally.
“Well, the door was wide open, so we should check around to make sure that no one broke in.”
“No opening drawers,” he stated.
Emma started laughing. “It’s like you completely keep forgetting that I’ve done this a few times before. Babe, I’m not a rookie. I have it under control. Next, you’re going to be giving me advice on how to shoot a gun.”
Croft grinned. “Sorry, I’m used to training Briggs. I generally repeat the things I take for granted out of habit now.”
Visually scanning the room, she noticed all the personal things were gone, but he’d left the big items. There was a sofa, a desk and table. “The place has been stripped.”
“Looks like he got out of here fast,” he said, from the kitchen, touching the coffee pot. It was cold to the touch.
Emma took in all the clothes strewn all over the place, “Or someone has rolled the joint.”
“I think he was just a slob,” he answered, staring at the mound of dishes in the sink. “Hey, Em,” Croft called.
“Yeah?”
“I have a butcher block here missing one knife.”
Emma joined him in the kitchen. “Gee, that’s odd for a suspected killer,” she joked. “Maybe it’s floating in that cesspool of a sink,” she answered, pointing.
“I’m not searching it,” he adamantly stated.
“I sometimes have dishes in my sink, and I’m not a neat freak, but that’s just a hot mess.”
Croft placed his hand on her lower back. “I’m a compulsive organizer.”
She shook her head. “You should have told me that before you and your cat moved in,” she teased.
“Our cat.”
Emma laughed. “No way, babe. That furball travesty is all yours. Ours implies I had a choice picking him out.”
Greyson was madly in love with her.
Pulling her out of the kitchen, they headed for the front door. “I don’t see anything that gives us a clue, and without the warrant, we’re asking for trouble if we keep poking around.”
“You think you can work your FBI magic and procure one fast? This house needs to be torn apart as soon as possible,” Emma asked, stepping outside.
He put on his sunglasses to block the setting sun’s rays. “We’ll send it through tonight and come here first thing in the morning. I’ll call Br
iggs to get moving on it.”
“Great.” Once outside, she moved to the passenger side, knowing it was a hopeless cause to try to get the keys from him. “Can we head back to the office? I have some paperwork that I need to sign off on, and I want to make sure that the deputies have their evening orders.”
“Yes, ma’am. My wish is your command,” he replied. The corners of his mouth turned up. Croft could have sworn he saw Emma’s do the same thing, before she turned her head to stare out the window.
Back at the station, there were FBI agents, deputies and citizens of Celestia everywhere. People in town were flooding the office with their concerns. The FBI had to specifically set up a desk with an agent to answer questions and handle the continual flow of concerned residents.
Shaking her head, after listening to three different people claim they saw the killer living next door to them, she finally gave her deputies their directives and went to her office.
As she pushed her door open, the light was on, and that struck her as odd. Her office had an automatic shut off to save electricity when she wasn’t in there for a while.
Once inside, a booming voice made her jump.
“It’s about goddamn time you got here!”
Emma spun around in time to come face to face with a man leaning against her wall. His shirt was disheveled, his eyes were glassy, and he simply looked out of sorts.
“Why are you in my office, Mr. Parks? Don’t you know that startling an armed woman is a dangerous thing?” As if to prove a point, her hand immediately went to her gun.
“I’m here to talk to you, Sheriff. It seems we still can’t get Megan’s body released for burial, and I want to know what the problem is.”
“Mr. Parks, this is a multiple homicide and the FBI has to release those bodies. I told you already, it’s out of my hands. I assure you that we’re working every angle to get this solved for Megan’s family.”
“Is this a game for you?” he raged, his voice shaking in anger. “Her family is hurting, and you’re sitting here with Megan’s body locked up like a piece of meat in a freezer.” He started across the room towards her.
“Mr. Parks, I understand you’re upset, but our investigation is still ongoing and unfortunately, Megan’s body is evidence at this time.” After it was out, Emma was sure it was the wrong thing to say, further enraging the man. She backed around her desk, trying to put space between them. Using her gun was an option, but the last one in her opinion.
Michael Parks stormed around the desk and with his arm swiped all the papers and lamp onto the floor with a resounding crash. He then faced Emma, grabbing her by her shirt and lifting her to her toes as he shook her.
“You’re going to release her body immediately. She isn’t going to be your damn evidence!”
Emma could smell the alcohol permeating his skin and clothes, and knew it was about to get far worse. Once her lamp hit the floor, the bull pen went silent. Her first thought was Croft losing his mind.
“Michael, you better let go of my shirt,” she warned, as the door flew open, hitting the wall.
Both agents stood there, Briggs with his gun drawn and Greyson with a murderous glint in his eyes.
It was all the distraction that Emma needed. When Michael glanced toward them, she took the opportunity to move. Bringing her arms up fast, Emma dislodged his grip from her shirt. Grabbing his one wrist, she twisted fast, causing the man to turn. Emma slammed his face onto the desk dazing him.
“Hey!” he shouted, as she grabbed her cuffs and had him restrained quickly.
Croft looked like he could breathe fire. “What’s going on in here?” He charged into the room to get to his woman. Briggs and her deputies were behind him like the Cavalry.
“Mr. Parks just came here to voice strong displeasure with myself and the FBI. After discussing his grievances, I’ve decided to put him in a cell until he sobers up.”
Greyson yanked the man up by the arms.
She smiled at her FBI agent sweetly. “I do believe Mr. Parks has seen the error of his ways and won’t ever be hiding in my office, waiting to jump out at me ever again.”
“Yes. All I want is Megan’s body released,” bellowed Michael Parks.
“And all I want is to take you out back and kick your ass for manhandling my woman,” growled Croft. “You ever pull this shit with my girl again, and I’ll be the one getting blood all over you.” He shoved the man towards a deputy.
“You‘ll regret this, Sheriff!” Michael slurred through the pain he was feeling.
Croft moved towards the man threatening Emma, and Briggs jumped between them.
“Boys, toss Mr. Parks in the holding cell until I decide if I want to file assault charges.”
Deputy Marshall dragged him from the room and away from the FBI agent, more or less to save his life.
Emma just tucked her shirt back into her pants and readjusted her harness. “I’ll give it a few hours and have the deputy release him with a warning.”
Greyson stared at her openmouthed. “How can you be calm about this? I come in here, and he’s threatening you!” Croft’s blood pressure spiked in his body. “That bastard had his hands on you!”
Briggs just stood up against the wall with a grin on his face. When his partner called her ‘my woman’ in front of a room full of men, he was waiting for Emma to kick his ass next.
“Babe, I had the situation under control. Now, I’ll run and wash my hands, and we’ll get out of here. Okay?” she smiled, leaving her office.
He watched her walk away, actually standing there for a minute before looking over at Briggs. What was he supposed to do with this woman? Some guy was trying to assault her, and it was absolutely nothing to her. She wasn’t even rattled. “She’s unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yes, she is,” replied Briggs. He was desperately trying not to smile, grin, or look like he was amused. Who knew what Croft’s reaction would be? “Looks like the sheriff can take care of herself.”
“Tell her I’ll be outside waiting by the car.” He just made it to the door when he heard Emma tell the deputy to set Parks free in two hours. Again, his blood pressure surged in response.
It was hard not to notice Croft wasn’t happy. Emma saw him storm from the building as if it was on fire. Back in her office, she found the other FBI agent cleaning up the mess and waiting for her. “Curtis, what’s wrong with Greyson? Nothing happened. I had the situation under control.”
“I don’t think he likes ‘his girl or woman’, being abused by a drunk,” he stated, laughing.
Grinning, she thought about it. “It was kind of cute how he declared that in front of five men.”
“I’ve been his partner for over a year. He’s never been this off balance. It has to be making him completely nuts, since he’s accustomed to being in control.”
“Yeah, well I like catching him off guard.”
Briggs started laughing. “He’s a man on the edge.”
“I’ll take him back to my place and make him dinner. That should calm his nerves. Have a good night, Curtis.” She gave a wave and a smile as she left.
“Lucky bastard,” was all Agent Briggs muttered in response.
* * *
He watched her leave the sheriff’s station from the shadows. She must think she was pretty clever. Whores always did until you taught them the final lesson of who was in charge.
There was no doubt on who’d win this game.
The Hunter would make her scream in pain.
How could he break her?
Then he knew the best way to teach her a lesson. The evil began bubbling up in him as the plans came together. Once she was taken care of, he would then move on and head to the next town that needed his help. When the woman spoke about Celestia, he couldn’t believe his luck. Everyone here needed him, and he couldn’t be prouder of his skills.
If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was betrayal and…
SECRETS.
Every woma
n who died had that in common. He enjoyed watching the people in Celestia running around scared and worried that they were next.
Let them panic. It caused chaos for the sheriff and the FBI.
The game was set in motion, and he was setting the scene.
She’d never see what was coming next.
* * *
Greyson Croft was silent the entire ride back to the cabin. The only time he spoke was when they drove past Emma’s cabin and headed toward his rental.
Emma was getting nervous.
What could she have possibly done to upset the balance today? She had just defended herself against an angry man. This relationship thing was unbelievably difficult, especially with a stubborn, strong willed man.
“I need some files that Briggs has here. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right back. Sit here,” he ordered, as he jumped out and left the Jeep running. What he wasn’t telling her was he needed to make a call to his boss to discuss his job options. The one position that appealed to him needed his attention as soon as possible, if he wanted to be considered for it. A few minutes away from Emma to calm down wouldn’t hurt either.
His mood was making her cranky. Well, two could play at this pissy temper thing. Emma slid behind the wheel, slipped it into reverse, and backed out of the driveway to head to her cabin. She had no intention of sitting around waiting for Croft to calm down. Maybe a little walk back to her place would cool his temper.
Or maybe not.
Pulling into her driveway, Emma unsnapped her holster. She refused to pull her gun to walk into her own home, but she figured safety first. She turned the key in the lock, entering cautiously. All these murders had her incredibly on edge. It was like waiting for the second shoe to drop all the time.
Once the lights were on, she scanned the room. Nothing was out of place, and Hairy sat on her desk staring at her.
“Hello, furball. By all means, make yourself comfortable on my furniture.”
Of course, there was no answer.
“Your owner’s mad at me.”
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 37
