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

by Morgan Kelley

  “I’m scheduling a half day for tomorrow. What you do with your night is up to you. As for Christmas, we’re off duty unless the killer strikes, so keep your drinking to a minimum and all the partying under control.”

  “Bah humbug,” Briggs coughed in his hand.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Get out of here and have a good night.”

  Tessa and Paris walked out together. “Are you going to celebrate?” she asked.

  “No, why?”

  “You nailed it, dude. You’re on your way to being the profiler protégé.”

  He blushed. “Tess, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Let’s go get a drink. In celebration, I’ll buy,” Tessa suggested.

  He thought about it.

  “You’re thinking too much. Don’t analyze it and just have fun for a change.”

  Paris wanted to do it, but he knew if he went with her it was going to be a big mistake. His whole body ached to just have her fall on him again.

  This was a very bad idea.

  “Okay, I’m in.”

  * * *

  Brynn sat in the front seat of the stakeout car, watching the man standing on the corner. They were waiting for the buy to go down, and they’d have him. Once they got the signal, he was going to get scooped up and they were off duty.

  “You want to get a drink tonight?” asked Maguire, staring through the binoculars.

  “Not really,” she replied, focusing on the man.

  “You seem cranky today.”

  Brynn shrugged. “I just broke up with my boyfriend. I’m not really good company right now.”

  He knew she was dating the FBI agent. He’d seen them around. “That’s too bad and right before the holiday too. That’s more reason to get a drink!” he added, laughing.

  “No thanks,” she answered. She never thought about how she essentially broke up with the man before Christmas. Damn it! Now there was guilt that she ruined it for him too.

  Brynn closed her eyes and prayed for calm.

  Just then they heard the code being spoken over the ear pieces and they knew the deal was done.

  “Let’s grab him. I want to go home,” she said, jumping from her seat in the car and running towards the man now holding the marked money and the drugs.

  If she had to hear about the holiday anymore, she’d kick the shit out of someone.

  Yeah, she really hated Christmas.

  * * *

  Emma stood in the kitchen in her fuzzy pajamas and slippers, as she cooked dinner for the men. Her husband was helping and trying to get her drunk. Every time she took a sip of wine, he poured more in the glass.

  It was funny, because he thought he was being sneaky, but she saw it out of the corner of her eye.

  “Grey, knock it off!”

  He tried to look innocent, but no one in the room was buying it. “I’m just trying to make sure you have some wine,” he offered, nonchalantly.

  Emma admonished him, “Yeah, so you have an easier time of taking advantage of me later. I know your games, Mr. Croft. I’ve fallen for it before.”

  Yeah, she had, and a tipsy Emma made for really exciting sex. She was a wildcard sober, but drunk… it was anyone’s game at that point.

  “You like when I take advantage of you. In fact, you tell me to, and I willingly comply.”

  Briggs dropped his head to his arms on the counter. “This is my penance for some sin. I’m forced to listen to a man who is old enough to be my father talk about getting laid.”

  Emma laughed. “You’re so lucky you excluded me in that or you would have been in pain.”

  “Hey, I’m the king of this castle. This is my sex wench and I get to talk about it as long as I get the big bill every month to live here.”

  “Greyson Croft! Sex wench?”

  He lifted her chin to close her mouth. “Yes, you heard me right.”

  She stared giggling, when he wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered really X-rated things in her ear. “Grey!”

  “Please have mercy on me. It’s been a bad day.”

  Emma giggled. “You’re cranky. Why don’t you tell us why, and maybe I’ll stop Greyson from being bold.”

  He sighed and told them how heartbroken and hurt he was over how everything went down. He relayed all the details about the stairwell, Brynn’s anger, and how he had been in love. Now, he wanted the wisdom that these two had to have on the subject of relationships.

  Just look how happy they were.

  “If it’s any consolation, you did the right thing,” Croft said. “You didn't act like you were three, and you walked away like a gentleman. That’s classy and always appreciated in the end.”

  Emma agreed. “You could have played dirty and threw a lot out, but you didn't. I’m proud of you, Curtis.”

  He wished he felt better. “I’m going to go delete her number from my phone, take a shower, and get changed.”

  They both watched him go.

  “Well?” Croft asked. “What do we do?”

  Emma thought about it. “We fix it.”

  “Is that a good idea?” he asked, wondering if maybe they should just stay out of it and away from any possible oncoming explosion.

  “Do you want to work with this mess between them? She’s my partner and he’s yours. This is bound to get uglier. We need to stage an intervention.”

  “I think I’m going to regret this at some point.”

  Emma thought about it. “Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  * * *

  Pulling up to the curb, Agent Archer prepared to drop his partner off at her house. They each had two beers, but he didn't want her driving. She was laughing a little too much and smiling a lot. He wondered if this was her drunk or just Tessa outside the job.

  Either way, it had been fun. They’d talked about things they never discussed in work, like why he was named Paris. She’d thought it was because he was conceived in the city in France, when in actually, his mother and father were on a job and had him in Paris, Texas.

  He found out that she didn't know where she got her green eyes from, since she’d been adopted and never knew her biological parents.

  Paris now knew her favorite color was chartreuse and he planned to look that up as soon as he got home.

  It was probably the greatest night that he had out in a long time. That was the big problem. He shouldn’t be feeling this happy or this damn good. Paris had to work with Tessa every day, and any feelings outside the basic partner ones were a horrible idea.

  Emotional attachment spelled disaster!

  But still, he couldn’t help himself. Since being partnered up with Tessa, he’d been fascinated by her. The way she obsessively chewed pink bubblegum, always had incredibly red lips, but never appeared to put on lipstick, and watched him with those cat-like eyes.

  Damn it!

  Drinks had been a horrible idea.

  “Thanks for driving me home,” Tessa said grinning. “I appreciate it.” She couldn’t help but be happy. The man who so often stayed hidden behind the shell, made an appearance tonight and she found him fun and charming.

  He opened doors for her.

  Paris pushed in her chair.

  They talked about his childhood, and when he found out she was adopted, didn't ask the same question everyone wanted to know.

  Did she ever go looking for her parents?

  He was sweet and handsome. The robin’s egg blue eyes paired with the dark brown hair drew her attention. When he smiled, he had a dimple in his one cheek.

  This was the most fun she’d had in a while.

  It was nice to see him let down his hair and relax into it for a change.

  “Want me to pick you up tomorrow?” he asked softly. “I can take you to your car.”

  “It’s okay. I run every day, so I’ll run there and drive back. It’s only a few miles.”

  He didn't know what else to say. “Thank you for the celebration. I had fun.”

  She grinned. “Me t
oo.” Well, it was either stupidity or the drinks talking, but someone had to be brave. “See you tomorrow,” she stated, leaning in quickly to place her lips firmly against his. Slowly, they both came alive and fell into the kiss. It was warm, gentle, and sweet.

  Tessa broke it first, as chills raced through her body. “Text me when you get home,” she said, grinning at the look on his face. It was priceless. “Good night, Paris,” she said, touching his cheek.

  With that, she was gone. Tessa raced off across the grass and hopped the fence, like it was something she did every day.

  Paris closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest.

  What the hell had he just done?

  This was going to be a huge problem with epic consequences.

  Damn spiders, profiles, and witchy eyed women.

  Somehow, he believed tonight’s celebration was going to be his downfall.

  * * *

  Well into the evening, he watched her leaving the church after a late practice. She was humming and singing to herself as she crossed the parking lot.

  She was so damn ‘nice’.

  Never did she ever have anything mean or negative to say and was the epitome of an angel, which would make her perfect for his pair of women.

  They would be his Christmas day present to the FBI.

  When they found them, there’d be nothing but total chaos. He was making sure to carefully pick random women, as to keep them guessing.

  Wasn’t he clever?

  There was laughter threatening to bubble up.

  He’d take her, and then grab the ‘naughty’ one tomorrow. There was plenty of time. The FBI was spinning in circles as the media ripped them apart.

  It was the most perfect outcome he could only hope for in his dreams.

  Soon, the spotlight would be his.

  No more would he feel inadequate.

  Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and it was almost time to celebrate.

  But for tonight, she was coming home with him.

  * * *

  Tomorrow night was going to be spectacular. The party was going to be full of all the movers and shakers in Vegas. From the ornately wealthy to the people in charge of the city, it was going to be his best party ever.

  His honored guest was most definitely a beautiful woman who captured his heart. Yes, she was married to another man, but that was okay. What he felt for her had nothing to do with sex or the need to own her.

  He only wanted to love her.

  It was hard to not think that if his beloved Aria had lived, that she would have given him a daughter in her image, much like Emma Croft.

  Fiery red hair.

  Emerald green eyes.

  And nerves of steel, much like the woman who he never stopped loving. Where everyone thought he wished to replace his Aria with Emma Croft, they were absolutely wrong.

  What he felt was the need to protect and offer her love. His own children had been a sad disappointment. His son Dyer had met a terrible end at the hand of his other child Amelia. Then, she took her life out of hate and vengeance.

  He would have been killed too, if not for Emma and her tough cop instincts.

  It now angered him that someone had tried to hurt her to get at the men. It was one thing to buy the director and try to make him corrupt, but women should always be off limits.

  He’d made that perfectly clear as word was spread through the grapevine, and yet someone didn't heed his directive.

  That meant one thing. Someone was going to pay for what they did, and they would deserve everything they received. He was old Vegas power, and he didn't screw around. Just because he wasn’t as spry as he once was, it didn't mean he couldn’t take care of business.

  It was far from over.

  The woman was like his child, and he wanted to assure she didn't end up like his biological ones.

  They were swallowed by their anger and greed.

  Emma Croft was a gem in a city of replicas. As long as she’d let him, he’d offer whatever he could to her and the director to keep them safe.

  He’d done his research on both of them and the orphan wouldn’t be one much longer. It was being handled at that moment.

  Emma Croft was going to be adopted, and that meant one thing.

  Picking up his phone, he dialed his attorney to make the arrangements.

  His mind was made up, and he knew this was the right thing to do.

  * * *

  He carried her limp body into the room with the barred windows. Placing her delicately on the mattress on the floor, he began to undress her. Removing her clothing, he found her chaste undergarments endearing.

  She was definitely his ‘nice’. There’d been no mistake.

  Picking up the chains, he wrapped them around her neck, leaving only enough room for her to shift her body out of comfort. Assuring her hands were tied, he began leaving little kisses across her face. His body woke, and the kisses became more desperate, as he tried to wake her with them.

  Stopping, he pulled away from her. Deep down, he knew that he mustn’t go there with the woman. He’d find ‘naughty’ and use her to find gratification.

  The one before him must stay his ‘nice’ at all costs.

  Placing the duct tape over her lips, he left her to wake alone. Tomorrow, she’d have company, as he offered her up as the next present.

  The holiday was here, and there wouldn’t be any more after this.

  These two would be his final gift.

  Until next year…

  * * *

  Saturday morning

  Christmas Eve

  Rolling over, she found the bed empty except for their very fat and furry cat, Hairy. Wow, this was new. Then as she thought about the previous evening and it made her giggle.

  Oh, she gave him exactly what he deserved last night.

  Call her a sex wench? Okay, Greyson Croft. Two could play that game, and she’d taught him a valuable lesson. The second their bedroom door had closed, she’d been all over him. Barely, had he gotten them to the bed, before she pulled off all his clothes to have her wicked way with him.

  The look on his face had been priceless.

  Yeah, she’d like to blame the alcohol, but it was all about him. It may be the scent of Greyson’s skin, the little stubble from his beard that late at night, and the delicious lines of his body. It all turned her right on.

  It could also be tonight. Seeing him in a tux made her completely crazy. He reminded her of some dangerous gangster or G-man from a bygone era.

  She shivered.

  Emma needed to stop thinking about it or she’d be trying to get him back into bed again.

  Not that there was anything wrong with that, but she still needed to find a killer, locate a kidnapper, and keep them both alive as they jumped into the socialite piranha pool later that evening.

  Tonight, she’d get him alone, and in the morning, there’d be all the presents. Emma couldn’t wait to see him unwrap the things she’d picked for him.

  Standing in the shower, she began to play out the night in her mind, and the situation of her dress. She was going to look like a casualty of war, with the bruises all across her shoulders, neck, and face.

  Damn it!

  Emma refused to let it ruin her day. Her husband promised he had taken care of it, and she needed to trust him.

  She crossed her fingers.

  “Please let him come through.”

  “You’re up early and smiling,” Briggs said, sipping his coffee. He’d gotten up to find his boss already dressed and reading one of four papers.

  “I went down to the gym to work out,” he replied, scanning the papers.

  Briggs stared at him. “This place has a gym too?”

  The incredulous tone in his voice made him laugh. “Yeah, it’s on the first floor next to the security desk. The key is on my keychain.”

  “You’re a lucky bastard.”

  He glanced up, hearing the tone of his voice. Somehow, he doubted they were d
iscussing the gym anymore. “You’re thinking about Brynn, aren’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Is this the first time you’ve had your heart kicked around by a woman?”

  Once again, his head bobbed up and down.

  Croft put down the paper and coffee. “Have a seat, son,” he said, pointing at the stool.

  “Are you going to tell me about the birds and the bees, Dad?” he asked laughing.

  He found that funny. “No, but I’m going to impart a little wisdom on you from someone with a few more years in the game than you. You’re never going to understand them. Women are a huge mystery, and the more you know, the bigger the confusion becomes. You’re young and there will be more babes out there.”

  Curtis snorted.

  “When you find her, your heart will pound, you won’t be able to talk and you’ll do anything for her. I don’t doubt you loved, Brynn. I just don’t believe you were madly in love with her.”

  He thought about it.

  “Did you want to marry her?”

  “No! I’m only twenty-four. I’m too young to…” Then, he realized what he was alluding to in the discussion.

  “When I met Emma, I would have married her in that second. I fell hard for her. You tripped. You’ll get up and move on, but when you find her and really fall, you won’t be able to get up- not alone anyway. You’ll need her to help you finish the journey by your side.”

  “I see the difference.”

  Croft patted him on the back. “I knew you would.”

  His phone rang and he didn't recognize the number. “Director Croft,” he said, waiting for the caller to introduce himself.

  “Greyson, it’s Randall Mason. I hope you’re ready for tonight,” he said cheerfully.

  “I am. What can I do for you, Mr. Mason?” he replied, putting it on speakerphone, in case he needed a witness. Now it was all about keeping his ass covered.