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

by Morgan Kelley

  “She came to me the day that I was abducted. She’s not happy in the relationship. You’ve made him into a mini you and it’s pissing her off.”

  “Oh.”

  “He’s bossy and not all women like that, Grey,” she stated, pulling down two mugs. “I happen to find it entertaining and not irritating. I also like letting you be in charge.”

  Croft tracked her with his eyes. “I feel bad now.”

  Emma crossed to him and allowed Greyson to pull her into his lap. “Don’t. You’re being yourself and that’s us, but Curtis needs to figure out who he is inside. There’s only one Greyson.”

  The scent of his wife was a tad bit distracting, and when he nipped her ear, she wigged in his lap.

  “I can’t wait until the coffee’s ready. Then I want to drag you back to our bathroom and…”

  “Morning,” Curtis said, entering the room. “Wow, you’re already at it,” he added, laughing. “Are you sure you’re not taking some magic pill?”

  Well so much for sexy talk with his wife. “I blame Emma. She sat in my lap. I was minding my own business.”

  Emma elbowed him. “Thanks a lot! Way to go blaming the victim. Some Fed you are.”

  Curtis poured them all coffee and handed Emma hers first. “I came back last night,” he stated, resting his elbows on the counter as he stared at his friends.

  “We noticed. Do you want to talk about it?” Croft inquired, as Emma tormented him purposely.

  He shrugged. “There isn’t much to discuss. I waited up for her, and when she didn't show after one in the morning, I got the hint.”

  “Did she call?”

  He told them about the text and the reply.

  “Oh.”

  Briggs knew it was bad. “So, I left a note and came here. I know Christmas is coming and the last thing you two need is me hanging around. This is your first one together, so I’ll check into a hotel and start looking for a place.”

  Emma could hear the pain in his voice. “Well, you can do that if you want, but really we just planned on a laid back day. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Stay, Curtis,” Croft stated. “If I want to manhandle my wife, I’ll take her into our bedroom.”

  Emma shifted, torturing him without even saying a word. She could already feel his entire body vibrating beneath her. “Emma’s cooking, and then we’re watching Christmas movies and drinking wine.”

  Before he could reply, there was a knock at the door. Since Curtis was the only one dressed and armed, he went.

  Peeking out, once more it was security.

  “Yes?” he asked, keeping the toe of his boot by the door to keep anyone from pushing in forcibly.

  “There was a messenger delivery for Mrs. Croft.” He handed him the small package and walked away.

  Briggs locked the door and carried it into Emma. “It’s a delivery, that’s all.”

  She took the box in her hand, examining the return address. “I don’t recognize it,” she said, handing it to her husband and hopping down off his lap. Immediately, she went to the drawer and pulled out a pair of gloves.

  Maybe being cops made them all suspicious, but this was the nature of the beast. It was better safe than sorry.

  Croft took the gloves and proceeded to open the box with as little damage as possible. Pulling out the tissue paper, he dumped the contents out onto the counter.

  There sat Emma’s rings, necklace and watch.

  “That son of a bitch,” Croft snarled.

  Inside the box there was a note. Pulling it out, he glanced over at Briggs. “I need a storage bag.”

  He retrieved one out of the cabinet and held it open.

  Reading the note, the rage took over.

  I thought you’d want these back. See you soon, Emma.

  She began to shake, as she relived the fear and memories all over again.

  Curtis didn't understand. “The serial killer hasn’t done this before. We might be able to catch him with something he left on the watch or note.”

  They had no choice but to trust the man they were calling family. Croft pulled his wife into his arms, as she buried her face in his chest.

  “Emma wasn’t taken by the serial killer.”

  “What?” Briggs was confused. “Then, who took her?”

  Emma clung to her husband, unwilling to release him at that time. She was just too rattled.

  Croft broke it all down, telling his partner everything. He told him about Randall Mason, Commissioner Booker and that the FBI was working on a sting. Then, he told him the part that hurt his heart the most. “They took Emma as a message to me. They wanted me to know they would break me one way or another.”

  He was pissed. “I don’t like that this asshole is screwing with you both. You could have told me sooner.”

  Emma stared over at him. “Curtis, we’re sorry, but this has us both pretty shaken up.”

  Now, Briggs got it. Finally, it all made sense, the hiding at home, the security, all of it. “So, they want you to be dirty and in their pocket and the best way is to take out Emma.”

  Croft nodded.

  “I’ll take the stuff to the lab, and we’ll get it fingerprinted and pull any DNA from the box,” Curtis offered.

  “You can’t take it all,” Emma stated.

  Both men stared at her.

  “Do you think that it’s coincidence that you did a press conference stating I’m fine and back, and then the next day my stuff comes back and it’s not connected? We’re being watched. They want to see what we’ll do. This is a test,” she pointed at her things. “Take the box and watch, but I’m wearing my necklace and rings.”

  “Honey, you don’t have to do this,” he offered, believing she was right about the items.

  “I do.” Emma picked up her wedding rings and slid them back on her finger. “I won’t let them tarnish these rings, Grey. They aren’t symbols of what happened to me. They’re vows of our marriage. They’re us. I won’t let him scare me.”

  Croft was so proud of his woman.

  “We said that we would do this together and we will.” She lifted her hair, waiting for her husband to do the honors. When he moved to stand behind her, his gentle fingers placed the necklace he bought her back around her throat. “Now, I’ll go get ready for work.”

  He waited for her to leave. “I want that box and watch pulled apart. I want you to take a little trip to that messenger service and find who sent it to her.”

  Briggs would handle it.

  “I’m going to make sure she’s okay, and then find this asshole. Someone’s going to pay for screwing with her.”

  He watched his friend and man he considered a brother walk away, and there was no doubt in his mind, someone was a dead man.

  Standing in the parking garage, they made their plan. There was a horde of reporters waiting outside to get a picture of Emma on her first day back to work. Now, they needed to evade and buy time.

  “Curtis, I want you to pull out of here, throw on your lights and sirens. Head down the boulevard and get your tasks taken care of this morning. When you leave, most of the media will follow. I’ll then take my car and head to the police station.”

  He considered it. “I have a better plan. How about I take your really shiny, fast car and you take the Fed vehicle? I’ll make it look so much cooler.”

  Emma was amused at the suggestion. NO ONE drove his car, including her. It was his big toy, and she knew better. One ding or dent and he’d weep for a week. It was best to not go there.

  “That is never going to happen, Curtis. That car has something in common with my wife.”

  “It’s sleek, sexy and has curves that need to be touched?” he teased, trying to rile him up.

  Croft growled, “Get to work! And stop thinking about my wife and her curves,” he demanded.

  Briggs raced off laughing. He did exactly as Croft requested, clearing the gate, and then hitting his lights. It was funny to watch the media race to their cars, hoping to g
et a glimpse of Emma as she headed to work. Once onto the street, he glanced back at the building.

  Croft got the text from Briggs. “There’s only three left, and I can lose them,” he said, grinning wickedly. “Right beautiful?” he said, and when Emma didn't answer he looked over. “You okay?”

  “I thought you were talking to the car.”

  Laughter followed. “I told you, the car’s a guy, you’re the only babe in my life.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Let’s get to the morgue. I want to start living my life again.”

  Croft revved the engine and tore out of the underground garage. The Challenger scared the last remaining reporters as it left them in the dust. “That never gets old.”

  Emma had to laugh at his antics. “You’re a big kid.”

  “I’m better than a kid. I have a sexy wife and really cool toys.”

  * * *

  Curtis was amused as he pulled into the parking lot of the messenger service. He’d purposely stayed at a decent pace, allowing the media to keep up. He didn't want them doubling back or heading to the precinct. When he parked, they all rushed the side of the Denali, fully expecting Emma to be inside. His partner pulled this one off, but they certainly wouldn’t be falling for it again.

  This was definitely a one trick pony.

  Opening the door, there were excited yelps and calls, until they realized it wasn’t the person they expected. Their disappointment was obvious.

  “Yes, can I help you?” he asked grinning.

  “Is Detective Croft in the back?” some reporter shouted, and the lights all went on.

  “Nope.”

  They didn't appear to buy it.

  Briggs opened the door, proving it was vacant. “I just came to drop off a package for delivery. I didn't think it was newsworthy. Who knew sending a fruitcake to my grandmother was a headline.”

  There were moans and groans, as they begrudgingly walked back to their vehicles once they realized that they had been duped.

  Curtis sent his boss another text, and then headed into the little store in the strip mall.

  Once inside, he was greeted by a man who looked bored to tears. “I need some information.”

  “Yeah?”

  Briggs pulled the sealed bag out of his shoulder bag. “I need to know who sent this.”

  The man started laughing, obviously entertained by the request.

  “I’m with the FBI, and I need this traced. It’s part of an investigation.”

  The man still didn't care.

  Briggs took a play from the ‘Book of Croft’. It was something he once saw him do to scare someone. Walking over to the door, he clicked the lock and flipped the closed sign. Turning, he pulled his blazer back and showed the man his gun and badge. Reaching behind him, he pulled out his cuffs. “There are two choices,” he stated. “Help me or we take a little ride. It’s almost Christmas. You’ll be lost in the system until the New Year.”

  The man stared at the cuffs, the man holding them and then the box on the counter. “Okay, let me see it.”

  “Do you have security tapes?”

  “Look at this place. Do you think the owner of this dump cares who comes in here?” he stated. “I can tell by the pack job that it was Marsha that did it. She’ll be working tomorrow. You can come ask her. She might have an idea who sent it. I was off the last two days.”

  Curtis picked up his cuffs and sealed up box. “Thanks for your help,” he stated. “How about you give me Marsha’s address and number? I’m willing to make a house call on this one.”

  The man shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He slid the paper across the counter with the woman’s address.

  Briggs grabbed it and headed out the door. At least, he had the possibility of a lead. Now for a little side trip and to get some answers.

  Anything at this point to help calm the boss man down.

  Getting Emma into the police building was a little trickier than just shuttling her away in a tinted out car. They couldn’t go through the front door, only because she’d be seen, so they used the entrance no one remembered taking.

  Ringing the bell to the morgue dock door, he waited until a tech hit the intercom.

  “Yes?”

  “I have an FBI delivery for Doctor Bentley.”

  It took a few minutes, but the gate opened, and Greyson motioned for Emma to hurry from the car.

  When she entered the building, the ME was there waiting. Apparently, he really believed he had another body coming in. It was a pleasant surprise to see it was a live one and a friend.

  “Emma!” he hugged her. “How are you feeling?”

  Croft wasn’t pleased the man was touching his wife, but he had to let it go. They had bigger issues going on right now than his jealousy and insecurity.

  She hugged him back. “I’m doing well, thank you.”

  They all began walking back to the lab.

  “So what’s with the back door arrival? You usually just take the corridor that connects our buildings.”

  Croft fielded this one. “We’re having a media issue. We had to sneak out of the condo to even get here.”

  He nodded. “I saw the news feed this morning. There’s a feeding frenzy to get to you. The station next door has been inundated with people trying to find the elusive detective.”

  She was well aware. “People are freaks.”

  Croft had to agree with that. Bystanders enjoyed getting a really good view when there was a train wreck. Emma was a huge story if they could catch her at her weakest. “Please tell us you have something and that trying to get here wasn’t a waste of time.”

  Bentley grinned. “Emma got to visit her favorite ME. How could that ever be anything less than a good time?”

  She snickered. Oddly enough, it wasn’t far from the truth. Emma had this weird friendship going with the man. Most of the detectives believed Steele Bentley to have the sense of humor of a brick, but she found him entertaining. The guy had played inside the human body. You had to have something of a quirkiness to pull that off.

  “Yeah, I’m so glad I brought her here to visit you,” muttered Croft.

  “Well, as it is, Director,” he began, “the tox is back in, and I can give it to you. As your wife stated, she was definitely chloroformed. It was detected in her blood work. When we re-ran victims one and two, none was found. We also checked the last two- again zilch.”

  Here was still more proof. A serial killer didn't switch up methodology mid-kill.

  “What we did find in the two naughty victims was Methadone. It appears that they were both addicts, trying to get off the heroin.”

  Emma liked that they had a direction to begin to follow. “Okay, so now we just have to find the nearest clinic and find out if your victims went there every day for their dose.”

  On cue, Steele handed her a piece of paper. “I was worried about you and had to keep busy, so I did the research.”

  She grinned. “Awesome! Thanks, Doc!”

  “Now we can get back to you, Emma. We ran the trace on your undergarments. We found blood, and it was yours from the scratches on your body. There wasn’t any foreign material other than a few stray carpet fibers. One was a gray one and one was multicolored.”

  Emma thought about it. “I know there was carpet in the trunk, but I don’t know where the other could have come from.”

  Croft hated having to hear his wife relive all this. It irritated him to no end. These were the kinds of things he wished he could protect her from for the rest of Emma’s life.

  “I read the report,” began Steele. “You said you woke up after the hit to the head, and then you were drugged. Did you feel any carpet beneath you?”

  She had to close her eyes and slip back into her memory of that moment. It was hazy, since her head was pounding but it was relatively clear. “I don’t think I was on bare floor. I was stripped from my clothes at that point. I remember trying to figure out if anything was broken. When I moved my feet, they were free from shoes.”


  There was a slow release of breath from the man beside her. Emma stared up into her husband’s face. “I’m okay, Grey. I’m safe now and right here.”

  She moved into his body and wrapped her arms around his waist. Emma wasn’t really sure if it was for her or him, but either way it offered a great deal of comfort.

  Greyson rubbed his chin against the top of her red hair, taking in the scent and allowing it to keep him in control. Every now and then, the fear overtook and the rage built.

  Doctor Bentley watched them both carefully. She soothed him and he offered protection. It was obvious they were connected and bound together in more than just love. Each gave the other something incredibly important; strength.

  “We ran the fiber. It’s from carpeting you’d find in your home. It’s not new and there’s no stain guard on it. If you find the abductor’s location, then we can analyze it and use it in court to put the nail in his coffin.”

  Newsflash, there wouldn’t be court, but there’d definitely be a body bag, and then coffin. Croft was going to get the bastard who touched his wife if it was the last thing he did.

  “Under your nails, we only found dirt and normal outdoor debris. We found leaves in your hair that matched the area of forest and that’s really about it.”

  Emma was glad they found something. She could tell that her husband was banging out an email to his partner, to do the research on the information they’d just received. There was a determined look on his face.

  “Where are you headed next?” the man inquired. “Are you really going back out into the field like it said on the news?”

  There was no doubt that she had no intention of hiding anymore. “I need to head up to Ford’s office. He has my gun and badge, and I’d like them back. I feel naked.”

  The man opened his mouth and closed it when her husband stared at him menacingly. There was laughter. “You better get the husband sedated. He’s strung pretty tight.”

  Emma ran her hand up and down his back. “I happen to like him this way. He’s perfect.”