Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3)

by Morgan Kelley

  “It’s going to be great, Paris,” she said, touching his wrist and having him focus on her. “You have nothing to worry about. You absolutely have this.”

  He relaxed at her touch.

  “How about you share it with us?” Croft asked, noticing that once again, there was this little spark between them. Emma was already asking him if they were a couple, as she spelled it out on his leg. Discreetly, he shook his head.

  “Okay,” Paris replied as he took his tablet back from Emma. This was incredibly nerve-racking. Not because of the actual profile, but his work was going to be examined by his role model. Ethan Blackhawk was the best in the field, and he wanted to be just like him while he worked for the FBI.

  “If you nail this, then you’ll be profiling more and more. Right now, in house we have only one active profiler. With you, it’ll be two. I know it’s extra work, but if you’re good at it, that’s a great skill to have, and one I will utilize often.”

  Paris swallowed and nodded. This was a huge moment for him, and he only prayed he could pull it off.

  “Give us what you have, Paris,” stated Emma calmly. She leaned into Greyson and ran her nails up and down his leg as they prepared to listen.

  “Since our killer is using bits and pieces of the holiday to convey something, I’m going to say that there’s some connection to Christmas in his personal life. He’s using the name Kris Kringle, simply because he’s viewing these women as gifts. To him, he relates because he’s ‘delivering’ them to us.”

  Croft watched him. “Go on.”

  “He leaving them naked, because he’s already unwrapped them. That can signify that not only is he passing them on to us, but they were his to begin with and he’s showing ownership. He’s giving himself a long awaited gift that he feels he’s earned. By putting the actual present on display, Kris Kringle is bragging.”

  “That’s sick,” muttered Tessa.

  “He’s stripping them down to show us that they look the same on the outside, but they’re very different. By carving ‘naughty’ and ‘nice’ into their bodies, he distinguished between two different situations. Possibly, there’s something in his past that has him divided in half. He might not be able to decide if he’s finding his actions good or bad.”

  “Okay,” Emma replied, urging him forward.

  “There’s something that’s been making him want to do this for a while. You can tell it’s carefully planned out and orchestrated. When he takes a woman, in the back of his mind, he needs the second to complete the entire action.”

  Emma had a question. “So, he’s trying to balance it all out in his head?”

  Paris agreed with what she’d just said. “Yes, he can’t have a bad without there being a good to counteract his transgressions. If he’s brutal with one woman, he’s gentle to the other.”

  “I appreciate the psychological, but give us more of the things that will help us point him out on the street.” Croft didn’t buy into the mumbo jumbo. People killed out of anger, greed, hate or because they coveted something. What he needed was what the damn man looked like, or better yet his name would be nice.

  Paris swallowed and hoped that he wasn’t disappointing his boss. The look on his face must have said it all, because immediately, Tessa was right there with reassurance.

  “Come on, Paris,” Tessa urged supportively. “You’re just about there.”

  He nodded and continued, “He’s likely in his mid-twenties to forty. Since he’s killing Caucasian women, there’s a good chance he’s of the same ethnicity.”

  “Anything else?” Croft inquired, carefully observing the close interaction between his agents.

  “No, sir.”

  “Okay, well I’m going to ship this over to my boss to have him review it. For now, we’ll go with it, and if there’s anything to add to it, Ethan will let us know.”

  “Thank you,” he stated.

  Emma stepped in. “How are you both doing with the identifications of the new women?”

  Tessa shrugged. “As usual, the killer didn't leave us much. He took their purses and ID’s. We’re going to work on missing person’s reports and hope someone’s called them in.”

  That reminded Greyson. “Do you have a picture of the bodies? I need to check something out.”

  Passing the tablet over to Emma, they scrolled through the data until Greyson found it. The answer was right there in the picture. Around one woman’s neck was a chain and cross, and the other woman had earrings and a thumb ring.

  Croft nodded at his wife. This was more to toss towards their theory. He handed it back and was about to assign work to do, when there was a knock on the door.

  “I’ll get it,” he said, making sure his wife stayed off her feet. They were healing and with the party in two days, she’d need to be able to walk around unimpeded.

  Peeking out, he looked confused, as he pulled the door open. “Curtis, why the hell didn't you just use your key?” he asked.

  The younger man walked in with a bunch of bright flowers and headed straight for Emma. “Because you’re cranky and your wife was just abducted. You would have shot me first, and then worried about it later. I’m not new to the ‘Croft Crazy’ game.”

  He had a very valid point.

  “Curtis, are those for me?” Emma said, accepting the kiss to her cheek along with the pretty flowers.

  On second thought, he might shoot him anyway. “Are your lips on my wife, Agent?” he growled.

  Tessa and Paris watched curiously. Back was the old boss, once more replacing the calm man.

  “I’m just bringing mom some get well cheer,” he hopped over the couch and landed right beside her. “I didn't want to get you roses. I know those are your favorite flower, but the big guy would kick my ass.”

  “I still may if you don’t slide five feet down the couch.”

  Briggs looked over. “There’s only three feet left.

  “Exactly.”

  Emma began laughing. “Will you help me up, Grey?”

  Immediately, he was at her side and willing to do whatever it took to make it easier for her. Almost comically, he swept her up into his arms to carry Emma into the kitchen.

  “I could have walked.”

  “Yeah, I know, but this is more fun,” he said grinning. “Just so you know, Randall Mason sent you a giant bunch of flowers too.”

  Emma was lowered to her feet and she looked around. “Where are they?”

  He shrugged. “They came upon an untimely end.”

  She began laughing. When there was another knock on the door, she pointed. “Go get the pizza.”

  Greyson knew that he could have done flowers too, but what he had planned for later was so much better.

  It was all just a matter of time.

  After having lunch in the dining room, they remained there to do some work. Emma was sitting right beside him and teasing him unmercifully. She must have been feeling better, because her hand was wandering higher and higher in his lap.

  Not that he would complain or try to stop her.

  He would have liked to kick them all out and make them work back at the office, but the company for Emma was cheering her up more and more. Already the sparkle was back in her eyes, and she’d been discussing vintage clothing with Tessa, who gave her the name of some great shops that she’d been in recently.

  Anything was worth having his wife’s demeanor return to what it once was before this all happened.

  Now that they were working, he divided the assignments. He currently had Briggs tracking down the car that was used to abduct Emma. Or at least the one she recalled seeing before fleeing into the woods.

  Both agents were digging up any information about the first two victims. Croft wanted to know all about their homes and the possible places that they were abducted.

  Like Emma suggested, there had to be some sort of thread connecting them together. It was a matter of just finding it. The killer may not believe it existed, but the odds were in their fa
vor. Crazy didn't always see clearly.

  Greyson and Emma were sitting there trying to find anything that matched in the FBI database. Their hope was the killer had done this elsewhere, and they could track him or figure out what his methodology was when selecting a victim.

  As her hand brushed him intimately, the pen fell from his hand and clattered to the table.

  Emma began giggling at the look on his face, and then nuzzled his cheek. “I’m sorry, babe. That was an accident,” she whispered and winked at him.

  He simply left a kiss on her lips.

  Tessa watched them and finally leaned over towards Briggs to whisper. “Are they like that all the time?” she asked, wondering if it was a constant or simply because she had been abducted. That could make people change and act more affectionate.

  “They’re usually worse. He’s taking it easy on her for now. She’s had a rough week. In a day or so, he’ll be back to his bossy self.” Briggs was trying hard not to think about him and Brynn, and how it had been just like that at the beginning.

  Agent Brass wasn’t sure if he was serious or kidding. “What do you mean?” she asked curiously.

  Briggs took his tablet and with his finger drew a picture of a caveman. It was hard not to laugh, especially when his arms were extra-long. Before he could show her, a voice hissed menacingly into his ear.

  “That’s really good. You can teach the arts and craft classes in the rehab center after I break your fingers,” Croft growled.

  All three agents jumped.

  Emma again started laughing when her husband showed her the picture. “You’re a far better looking caveman than his drawing, Grey,” she replied.

  Croft’s phone rang, and he glanced down at the caller ID. “It’s the ME. Maybe they have something for us,” he hoped, putting the phone in the middle of the table. “Doctor, you’re on speakerphone,” Greyson added after answering.

  “Hello, Director. How’s Emma doing?” he asked immediately.

  She fielded this one. “I’m doing really well, Steele. How are things with all the dead bodies?”

  “Same old,” he replied. “I’m glad you’re home safe. I was worried that I would see you again, and not in a good way.”

  Everyone caught what he meant. Her idea of seeing the ME wasn’t in a body bag either. “That’s not happening for a long time, my friend. I’ll be in to see you soon. I have to go back to work eventually.”

  Croft interrupted, only because the entire conversation pissed him off. There was the use of the ME’s name, the idea that Emma would ever be in a body bag, and then the part about her planning to go back to work.

  Yeah, his mood was going south pretty fast.

  “What do you have, Doctor?”

  He cleared his throat before continuing. “We lucked out with one of the victims. She was in the system, and as soon as we ran her prints we got a hit.”

  “Which one?” Emma asked. “Was it ‘naughty’ or ‘nice’?”

  There was a rustling of papers. “We’re going to be looking at the bad girl, I guess. Her name is Tania Swan, and she was far from an angel.”

  “What are we looking at, Doctor?” Croft inquired.

  “Her crime of choice was none other than prostitution. She had a rap sheet taller than you, Director. If you looked up the word hooker in the dictionary, you’d find her picture.”

  Croft pointed at Paris and motioned for him to do a search on her. They were going to start pulling each woman apart, until they figured out what tied them all together.

  “She was strangled, sexually assaulted, and beat. I can tell you that the COD was asphyxiation, but this girl suffered before she got there. He had some pent up rage and hostility.”

  Emma thought about it. “Could it be related to the sex?” she suggested.

  They all glanced over, so she explained, “We know he’s gentle with ‘nice’, but then he loses it with the other woman. What if during the assault, he can’t get off and that’s when he’s pummeling her.”

  All the men in the room looked uncomfortable.

  “Some men can initiate the process but the follow through can’t be completed,” she added, trying to describe it as generically as possible.

  Now, the men looked worse.

  It all made her laugh. If you wanted to freak out a room full of men, discuss impotence. It would put most of them over the edge every time.

  Doctor Bentley stepped in and added his impression. “It’s common in older men. Once we get to a certain age, testosterone levels drop and performance can be affected.”

  Briggs opened his mouth and stared at his boss.

  “Curtis, I will hobble over there and slap you myself,” Emma warned, pointing at him.

  Everyone stared, and the call went quiet.

  “You know his age is off limits to jokes, and if you even take the sex route I will make you cry like a baby.”

  Croft moved towards his wife and dropped a kiss on the top of her red hair. “I dare you, Curtis,” he taunted.

  “We’re sorry, Doctor, please continue. Everyone’s a little rambunctious today,” Emma stated, pointing at the young agent.

  “Yes, anyway your theory could be accurate,” Bentley said. “The other thing that I can tell you about the actual killings is that he’s escalating. If you don’t catch him before the next girl, she’s going to likely suffer a great deal.”

  “Thanks for the extra pressure,” Emma said, laughing. “Way to boost the morale, Doc.”

  He laughed over the phone. “My bedside manner sucks and that’s why I’m an ME. You want to laugh? Then hire a clown.”

  Both agents stared at the woman. That was the most interaction they’d ever heard between the medical examiner and anyone. He generally was quiet, succinct and to the point.

  Well today was a day of discovery all around. Someone needed to mark it on a calendar.

  Their boss had a softer side.

  They found out he was a caveman.

  The ME was personable.

  And apparently, the other young agent was allowed to call Emma ‘Mom’. Yeah, it was a peculiar day all around.

  “Tox and other lab work will be in tomorrow. Will you be stopping in, Director, or shall I call you when I get my hands on it?” the ME inquired.

  “I’ll be in tomorrow,” he replied. He didn't want to, but at some point, he had to face the world again. Now, he only had to figure out a place to stash Emma while he was at work. Maybe, he could talk her into letting Curtis play babysitter or baking him cookies with two armed guards outside their door.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow too, Steele. I’ll be joining my husband.”

  The entire room went silent, knowing that bomb she just lobbed was about to go off and take some casualties.

  “Okay, well I’ll see you then,” Bentley said, cutting off the call rather quickly. He was pretty sure he knew the response to that. Knowing the director and his protectiveness of Emma, that wasn’t going to be pretty.

  Croft stared at his wife. “Can I speak to you in our bedroom, please?” he asked as calmly as possible. Right now, he was seeing red. Her going back to work was the last thing that he had planned for tomorrow. In fact, next month was looking hazy at that point too.

  “No, I think we can discuss it right here,” she grinned cheerfully, as she challenged him.

  Briggs shook his head. “Uh oh,” he mumbled.

  “Emma.” He pointed to the other room. “We will be talking about this in private.”

  The agent leaned over. “Remember how I said he’d be back to bossy in a couple days, well I was wrong. It’s in about five seconds.”

  She shook her head, unwilling to budge.

  Croft shrugged at her refusal. “Very well then.” Being cognizant of her sore hip, he went to the other side of her body, picked up his wife and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “GREYSON CROFT! You put me down!” she demanded, squirming and trying to get free.

  He started laughing at her futil
e attempt. “We’re going to go have a talk, and then I’ll let you go.”

  “I said,” and she didn't get to finish. He slapped her on the ass and everyone stared, as her mouth hung open. She began sputtering and promising payback immediately.

  He didn't care. It was time to have a talk and it was going to happen in the privacy of their bedroom.

  Tessa stared at them as he carried his wife out the door. “Did he just manhandle his wife like a…”

  “Caveman?” added Briggs, not looking up from his work. “Yep.”

  “You said he’s like that all the time?” She couldn’t believe that he got away with it. She would have kicked his ass into next month.

  “Greyson Croft is like that pretty much every damn day of his life. Don’t worry. You get used to it,” Curtis said, unable not to admire it.

  “What?” she asked, incredulously.

  Briggs looked up. “Really, he grows on you.”

  Standing in their bedroom, Croft refused to put her down. It wasn’t that he wanted to make her mad or rile her up, but he had to handle the situation appropriately.

  Okay, maybe he wanted to stir her up a little bit. When she got that flushed look it turned him right on, and reminded him of when they had sex. At least he wasn’t ashamed to say that he was a little hot and bothered at that exact moment. Sue him, he was a caveman with a very sexy younger wife.

  “Are you calm yet?” he asked, waiting patiently for her to stop fighting.

  “This isn’t fair. You’re twice my size and I’m injured!” She slapped him on his own ass.

  Yeah, that only made him want to jump Emma.

  “You’re hurting me, Grey,” she said softly, not afraid to trick him. Brute force against him may not work, but brains could always take down the giant of a man.

  He panicked and slowly lowered her to her feet.

  It’s when she struck. Emma rushed him, knocking him back onto the bed, and landing on top of him. She grinned triumphantly, until he rolled and placed her beneath him.

  And now she was trapped again.

  Staring down into her eyes, he spoke nothing but the words from his heart. “You can’t go out. I’m scared shitless that he’ll take you again. I need to know you’re right here and safe.”