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

by Morgan Kelley

  “Isn’t it usually bullshit?” asked Agent Archer.

  Brynn nodded. “He told the booking sergeant that he would tell us where a body was stashed. Then this morning, at the morning roll call, I was sent out to deal with it. The vice cops don’t handle corpses very well.”

  The ME laughed. “Detective Maguire puked when I found a penis.”

  For some reason, Croft found that sentence funny. “There’s something you don’t expect to hear on Christmas morning or in every day conversation.”

  Emma went to open her mouth and he placed his hand over it, and then pointed at Briggs. “Both of you stop. No one wants to hear where you’re going with that.”

  “Sometimes, you take the fun out of everything,” Briggs muttered.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Anyway, he told us where, and we went out to see if he was full of shit or being honest.”

  Emma considered where this was all heading. “I’m going to assume that you definitely found something, or we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

  Unfortunately, Brynn nodded.

  The ME continued, “There was indeed a body. It had been in the ground for about two weeks. Since it’s now colder, decomp was a little slower. We gathered up all the parts and tried to put our victim puzzle back together again, at least as much as possible. Our body had one viable fingerprint- his thumb.”

  “Okay,” Greyson said, waiting. Maybe it was just him, but he didn't see the connection to anything they were doing. “How does this affect us?”

  Brynn picked up. “Here’s the concerning part. When the good doctor here ran his ID, your BOLO popped up and alerted us that you were looking for him.”

  “What?” They all said in unison.

  Emma stared openmouthed. They were only running one BOLO and it was on the man they believed kidnapped her. This was a twist that no one was expecting.

  She had their attention now. “It came back to a Kristopher Karson, age twenty seven.”

  “Uh oh,” Tessa said, knowing they had a problem. This trail had just been doused with very cold water. It was now deader than the corpse.

  Everyone stared at Emma and Greyson, waiting for them to say something.

  “What else did the perp say?” Croft inquired, needing every bit of information possible at this point.”

  “I haven’t heard yet. All I know is he was crying that there was a cop behind it all. That it was a hired gun. You know how people are when they get caught red handed with a wad of cash and a pocket full of rock.”

  This little turn in events both helped them and hurt them. They’d already suspected it wasn’t the man, but now they needed to let everyone else in on it too.

  Emma glanced over at her husband, and shared a private look between them. They had no choice at this point. Everyone in the room would begin to start putting it together shortly, and then human nature would kick in and start creating wild speculation.

  “Doc, can you clear the autopsy suite of all your techs?” Croft asked, waiting as the man did just that.

  When everyone was gone, he finally spoke. “We need to discuss something pertinent. I’m going to ask that you keep this to yourselves. It’s a matter of keeping Emma safe, at this point, more than anything else.”

  Everyone looked confused.

  Croft continued, “When Emma was abducted and she escaped, we started finding inconsistencies between the killer and the abductor. We let everyone, including the press, assume that she’d been taken by Kris Kringle. Yet, we didn't buy it from day one.”

  It was her turn. As if he knew it wasn’t pleasant to discuss, he pulled her body back against his protectively. Once more, he’d help her beat back the scary things that chased her,.

  “When I was abducted, the first time I woke up, my hands were tied behind me. When I came to in the car trunk, they were in front of me, giving me easy access to the hood, duct tape, ankles, and the trunk latch. If I weren’t a detective and used to putting pieces together, it may not have bothered me so much, but it did. It was all too convenient.”

  Everyone listened with fascination as she continued to tell them her suspicions and beliefs.

  “Greyson and I firmly believe that I was supposed to get away from the beginning.”

  Now, they all looked surprised at that little bombshell. Who kidnaps only to set the captive free?

  Croft took over, “We had a source come forward and divulge that this wasn’t the serial killer, but a contracted abduction. Someone was sending a message to me. This was all to make sure that I was well aware that I’m being watched.”

  “Why?” Brynn asked. Why would they monitor him? Greyson was a Fed. They were the law in the city.

  It was Briggs who answered. “He’s the big dog in Vegas. If you want to slide something by someone illegally, you need someone with power in your corner. Who better to have in your pocket than the director of the FBI?”

  The ME continued, “The fibers we found on Emma were inconsistent with the killer’s MO. We’ve yet to find any trace on the women. Our killer is being meticulous, but the kidnapper wasn’t.”

  Briggs pulled up some information on the tablet. “When I saw the news clippings on the desk, they were out of place. They were newspaper stories, yet all the other women on the walls were photographs. If our stalker was indeed after Emma, he would have taken some pictures. She’s fairly easy to follow. Look at the media. We can’t go anywhere without them right there. A stalker could have had some excellent photos of her.”

  That made Greyson sick to his stomach. The last thing that he wanted to think about was his wife being an easy target. He had lost her once already, and he didn't want a repeat performance ever again.

  He was getting too old for this.

  “You believe the clippings were planted?”

  Croft answered, “Yes.”

  The ME stepped in for the next part. “You know, it makes sense. When the teams swept the house for any trace, they found carpet fibers, but they didn't match the ones they pulled from Emma’s undergarments. Now that I think about it, hearing all the details, I’d have to agree. I personally think that she was never held there either.”

  Briggs pulled up the date on the newspaper photos, adding more proof to the entire thing. “If you look here,” he said, pointing towards the screen and the dates on the news clippings, “it was two days before you got the search warrants. How long has our guy been dead, Doctor?”

  “At least two weeks.”

  “That means that he was dead well before the women were even killed, or Emma was abducted. This was all set up, in the hopes we’d miss the fine details and just assume.”

  Croft spoke, “The man’s credit cards and bank accounts went silent two weeks ago too. It fits the timeline, and makes it pretty clear that he didn't have anything to do with my wife being taken.”

  Emma agreed. “It looks like everything was planted at that house to make Kristopher Karson look guilty. He already had an arrest for peeping and a PFA for stalking. He’d be hard pressed to prove that he didn't do it.”

  No one spoke.

  “Unless his body turned up,” Emma added.

  “Except whoever killed him wasn’t as neat as he thought. The details from the beginning were sketchy. So, I’m definitely not buying it’s a pro, but possibly a cop. He knows just enough to keep us off track, but not good enough to keep us way off base.” The whole thing rubbed Greyson the wrong way. “I think whoever perpetrated this wanted me to figure it out and be afraid.”

  And he was.

  Emma could see the emotion being stirred up in his eyes. Her husband was in control, but he wasn’t far from rage. Soothingly, she twined her fingers with his, giving them a squeeze.

  Croft needed this kept under wraps. The case that they were building, and Emma’s life, depended on it at this point.

  Brynn wanted her friend to be safe. “What can we do?”

  He was glad that he had their support. “We need to keep this
quiet. If there’s a cop behind this, then we have a very big problem.”

  Paris was confused. “I don’t get how it’s all connected. I don’t think it could be a coincidence. I mean, the odds on that are staggering.”

  Croft didn't know how it tied together either, but there had to be something they just weren’t seeing yet. It all pointed one way, and he was going to follow that direction. “We need to start working this like two separate cases, because it is. The abductor wants us confused and to keep us at arm’s length.”

  Brynn didn't like where this was headed. “Then, you have a really big problem. When the perp was booked, he was singing like a canary. He told everyone who would listen that there was a cop on the streets that was working deals. He would take just about any job for cold hard cash. He had the attention of the whole vice squad and every officer on duty.”

  Shit.

  This all matched what Randall Mason had given them. There was good coming from this. At least they knew that he was being upfront and honest. One more ally meant a little more safety for Emma.

  “I want to talk to the man you arrested,” Croft stated. “I think I can get information out of him.”

  Emma was sure he could. It just probably wasn’t going to be done legally. If anything, she could picture her husband going off the deep end and beating the man to a bloody pulp.

  That was a very bad idea.

  Brynn shook her head. “I’m sorry but it’s not up to me. Vice tagged him. If you want an interview, then you need to go to Captain Ford and let him schmooze the boss in the other department. If you thought homicide hated the Feds, then you should see the love fest going on over there. They have a bitter taste in their mouths from the last director. It seems he used to snatch away the busts and give the goods back to his buddies that were lining his pockets.”

  “Great,” muttered Croft. “I’m going to be paying for his sins the rest of my damn life here.”

  “Okay,” Doctor Bentley began, “here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to run trace on our decomposing corpse. His clothes are synthetic fibers, so they didn't begin to decay yet. I may find something. If I can find any trace on him that matches Emma, you know that chances are he was killed by the man who grabbed our girl.”

  Croft wasn’t entirely happy with Bentley’s use of terminology. He ‘had’ the girl. The ME did not.

  “Meanwhile, I can hopefully give you something else to work with. Our ‘naughty’ girl found at the scene has an identity already. Let me introduce you to Julia Montgomery. She was a drifter, street performer, and pickpocket extraordinaire. If you look at her record, she was arrested quite a few times in Vegas.”

  “What else do we have on her, Doc?” Emma inquired.

  “She was living out of a homeless shelter on Eighth Avenue, or that’s what it says online in the database from her parole officer. Who knows if it’s accurate? If she’s homeless, that means she could find refuge anywhere, but at least it’s a place to start.”

  “Okay, we’re going to have to play divide and conquer today,” Greyson stated. “Paris and Tessa, I would like for you both to begin working on the map. I want the new data that Doctor Bentley just gave us on Julia Montgomery placed on it and see if it still proves true. I also want to know more about the reverend’s family. Find me a brother or twin. I want to know what his parents did and theirs before them too.”

  “Yes, sir,” answered Paris.

  Again, he pulled his wife protectively to his side. “Doctor, we need you to work fast. Ship everything to the FBI lab, and I’ll let Max know it’s on its way. He’ll process it quickly and get us the results we need.”

  “He’ll have it within the hour, Director,” the man assured. He knew that Greyson Croft was worried about Emma, and he should be. If someone was playing a game, who knew if they’d go for broke next time. It would be devastating to have to autopsy a friend, and he wasn’t sure he could pull it off.

  He pointed to the doors, leaving the ME to do his thing while they did theirs. Out in the hall, he sent his agents on their way.

  “I have to get back to work,” Brynn said, hugging her partner. “Be careful, and I’ll see you back at work when you solve this.”

  Emma nodded. “Bye, Brynn.”

  They watched her leave.

  “What’s my job?” Curtis inquired.

  “I want a deep search on Captain Christopher Ford. I need to know if we can trust him or if he’s going to take us down. Start with his financials. I want to see if he’s getting paid more than his base salary.”

  Briggs would do anything to keep the people he cared about safe. “I’ll work on it now.”

  “You have twenty minutes to finish it all.”

  “What? Are you crazy? I can’t do a deep search in twenty minutes and have it be accurate!” Curtis was appalled.

  “Nineteen.”

  The man took off to go find a quiet corner. This would be the mother of all Christmas miracles, if he pulled this off.

  Emma took his hand. “What about us?”

  “I’m calling Ford. He’s probably off today. It looks like he’s going to be coming into work for a little impromptu meeting. Then we’re going to get a cup of coffee and wait until Curtis is done.”

  “Do you really expect him to do what you’ve asked in that time frame?”

  He laughed. “Hell no! But if I gave him more time, then he would get soft and sloppy. I’m keeping him focused.”

  “You’re like a drill sergeant.”

  Funny, Croft was fine with that. “On my good days, yes I am.”

  * * *

  At the knock on his door, he found the person who hired him. That was unusual, since he didn't remember giving out his name or address when he was hired to do the Emma Croft job.

  Yet, he wasn’t worried about it. After all, if he was going down, others would be going with him.

  That he would make damn sure of too. He was a cop and that meant there’d be a backup and contingency plan, just in case.

  Opening the door, he stood there. “Yes?”

  “There’s another job, and this one pays three times as much. Are you interested?”

  Hell yeah, he was!

  That was almost two years’ salary as a lousy cop. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his job, but watching the women detectives get the glory and the Feds taking claim of things they had no business touching, pissed him off.

  “Can I come in or do you want the neighborhood to hear our deal?”

  He stepped back and closed the door behind his company. “Do you want a drink?”

  “No thank you. I have a party to attend. I just needed to discuss details.”

  “Okay,” he said, sitting down in the recliner and sipping his beer. “What do you need done?”

  “We want someone killed.”

  He shrugged. “Is it Emma Croft? You should have told me when I had her. She was fun to take, and I wouldn’t mind grabbing her again.”

  “No, it’s not her, but we may need you to do that later. Now, it would be too difficult. Her husband is all over her. We have someone a little more high profile in mind.”

  “Okay who is it?”

  “We want you to take out Randall Mason.”

  At first, he didn't get it and thought it was a joke. Then, he followed it up with laughter. “You’re kidding right? You want me to kill THE Randall Mason? Are you talking about the one who has been a fixture in Vegas for the last forty years and has his hand in just about every honeypot around, including the Crofts’ lives?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed even more at the absurdity of it. “If anyone goes after him, there will be retribution. The word on the street is that he has enough people on his payroll that no one can sneeze his name and not have him know about it.”

  “Maybe, I’ll rephrase this. If you had to do it, could you and how?” the person asked impatiently.

  “Yeah, but it wouldn’t be easy. A direct shot would be best. Find him when he’s a
lone and walk right up to him. You’d have to find a way around his bodyguards to pull that off. Then, I’d take the shot and pray that I didn't miss. The hardest part would be getting out of there, unless you have a gun with a silencer. If anyone heard it, they’d all come running. Mason doesn’t spend much time in solitude for just this reason.”

  “It sounds relatively easy.”

  He laughed at the naivety. “You’d have to find an idiot big enough to do a frontal attack. Randall Mason would see someone coming a mile away and besides, he’s already picked his heir apparent to his empire. It’s what everyone is talking about. If you take him out, someone will just take his place.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you know who the next player in the game is going to be?”

  He did, but that would cost money and this wasn’t the time to bargain away that little gem. “I’ve heard some things,” he said, laughing.

  There was no time for his games. “So, you’re not interested in the job?”

  “No, I’m not. If you want Emma Croft taken or offed, well that’s my pleasure. I’m not stupid enough to go after the head of the FBI or Randall Mason.”

  “Okay,” the company said. “I had to ask.” Turning, the visitor prepared to leave. At the last moment a hand reached into the coat and grabbed for the cold steel. “Oh, and by the way?”

  “Yeah?” he said, looking up.

  “I’d do the frontal attack too.”

  The last sound heard was the gasp of breath as it left his body. The man had his usefulness, but if he was saying he wouldn’t do the job, then he had to go.

  All loose ends needed to be tied up and that page in the book closed.

  It looked like if you wanted something done right in Vegas, you had to do it yourself.

  * * *

  Pulling into the parking lot, Paris Archer stared over at her. Right about now, he would do just about anything to fix this really big mess that he had somehow created. Tess was staring at her phone, typing up a text message as she ignored him.