Mob Justice

by Morgan Kelley

  Chris turned their ride around, and they parked down the street to scope out the house.

  Well, she’d been wrong.

  Tristan was still home.

  Plus, the man was on the phone. He was standing behind his vehicle, and the wife was nowhere in sight.

  “Curious. He looks upset. Who do you think he’s talking to, and his wife won’t be the answer?”

  Oh, Chris was aware.

  Where there was smoke, there was often fire.

  “Uh huh. Take his picture,” Emma said. “We may need it for later when he denies something.”

  Chris did.

  As ex-cops, this wasn’t their first day doing things like this. Between them, they had many years of experience. That told them this man was up to something.

  But what?

  When he was done on the phone, they watched the man climb into his car and pull away. As soon as he did, Chris started the engine and headed toward the house.

  “I’ll go.”

  He looked at her like she was loco.

  “Uh, no.”

  “She’s not going to talk in front of you. She had to spell sex. Let me try. You know…girl-to-girl. It might net us something we can use.”

  Chris knew she was right. So, he handed her an earpiece, so they could stay in communication.

  “I need to know you’re okay. It’s this or we both go together. Remember what happened the last time I left you alone?” he asked.

  Oh, she did.

  She had the scar to prove it.

  On this one, she wouldn’t fight. Chris needed her to give in so he’d have some peace of mind, so she would.

  Emma popped it into her ear and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

  “So overprotective. Chill.”

  He laughed.

  “No.”

  Emma rolled her eyes and hopped out of their ride. She headed across the lawn and toward the front porch. She was convinced the woman was hiding something.

  But what?

  “I have your back,” Chris said as he unbuckled and waited for her in their ride.

  Clearly, he was nervous.

  Emma was just glad he gave her the benefit of the doubt when it came to doing her job.

  At the door, she knocked.

  When the woman opened her door, she looked surprised that Emma was standing there.

  “Uh, déjà vu? Hello? I’m sorry, but did you forget something?” Emily asked.

  “No, I didn’t forget anything. I need to ask you a girl-to-girl kind of question. I know all about having friends who would keep a secret for me. I need more.”

  She looked uncomfortable.

  VERY uncomfortable.

  Emma knew she needed to push. Something was there. She’d bet money on it.

  “My best friend is pretty awesome. He’s always got my back, and I love him so much. I imagine you had some connection to Libby.”

  “I love my best friend too,” Chris said over the earpiece. “She’s the center of my world.”

  Emma listened as she waited.

  “Emily, she was your friend. Help me help her.”

  The woman lowered her voice.

  “I’m between a rock and a hard place,” she admitted. “Libby was my coworker and friend, but I liked her husband too. We were ALL friends.”

  She got it.

  Jeffrey Raye likely had something to do with her going missing, and Emily was torn.

  Emma knew where to start.

  “She’s missing. Do you think she’s dead?” she asked, hoping to get anything she could at this point.

  She nodded.

  “Why?”

  “She was screwing around on her husband at work. She wasn’t happily married to her husband. I promised her I wouldn’t say anything. The rumors at work were more than rumors.”

  She let it hang there.

  “With?”

  Emily chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated giving that up.

  “Emily. Come on.”

  “Will you tell anyone I said anything?” she asked. “Will you say it came from me if I help you?”

  Emma wasn’t shocked.

  NO ONE wanted to be the narc.

  She reassured her.

  “No, I promise your name will NOT come up.”

  The woman visibly relaxed.

  “At work, there were two men. Libby had a very high sex drive, and she said her husband didn’t really get her off.”

  Well, Emma believed that.

  Commissioner Raye made her want to puke, and he wasn’t touching her. She could only imagine having to touch his dick on a regular basis.

  She’d need therapy.

  “Who was she having an affair with?” Emma asked.

  This was good.

  This now opened up the potential list of suspects that they could question.

  “Their names are Michael Skinner and Johnie Baker. She liked giving blowjobs. In fact, she said that was her best skill. There were rumors around work about her blowing her way to the top.”

  Emma listened and wrote down the names.

  “Please don’t mention that I gave you that. When Libby went missing, her husband asked us not to spill the dirt all over the place. We promised to keep it private.”

  She got it.

  Emma wasn’t surprised.

  The commissioner was crazy, and he’d likely hurt them. Look at all the people he had already had his hand in killing when they made him unhappy. Libby was likely one of them.

  “Was her marriage happy?”

  She shook her head.

  That was all Emma needed. She’d work on it from there. That would give her something to focus on.

  “Emily, thank you. She needs to be found and the person who hurt her has to pay.”

  She began crying.

  “I miss her.”

  Emma hugged her.

  “I can only imagine. If I lost my best friend, I’d never recover either. They are so very special.”

  The woman wiped her eyes and stared imploringly at Emma.

  “Please don’t tell anyone I was the one who told you. They’ll be so mad at me. They’ll hate my guts. I don’t have many friends now that I don’t leave the house to go to work. I only have the girls in our little group. They will excommunicate me for talking to anyone about this.”

  She got it.

  What she wasn’t saying was that fear was rooted in Jeffrey Raye doing something in retaliation. This made him look like an even bigger suspect.

  His wife was cheating.

  That had to piss him off.

  “Thank you, Emily. I appreciate your help.”

  “Don’t mention it. REALLY.”

  With that, the woman turned, headed back inside, and closed the door. That said it all. She’d say nothing more from here on out. This was ALL they were going to get from Emily Bauer.

  So, Emma left the porch and headed for her ride.

  Hopping in, she was all smiles.

  “You look like the cat who swallowed the canary. You liked the intel, huh?”

  Oh, she did.

  “Did you hear all of that?”

  “Yep. I have the names, best friend. We’ll run them later. What do you want to do now? Want to give me a big kiss and tell me all your secrets?” he teased.

  “I heard some…”

  She cut him off. If Chris thought she wouldn’t bust his ass back…

  “I want to hit that sex shop.”

  He sighed.

  “Oh, crap! I had a feeling that was what you were going to say to me. I should have kept my big trap shut,” he muttered.

  She snorted.

  “I’ll behave, but for the record, we were going there anyway,” she reassured. “It’s our lead, and I’m not letting my husband have all the fun.”

  “Right. Great. Oh, and I know you won’t behave.”

  Emma found that amusing.

  “I’ll behave. I promise. I won’t make any shitty comments or torment you.�
��

  He glanced over.

  That didn’t seem right.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged.

  “Emma, why?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “You’re still mourning Natasha, and until you’re back on your feet, it’s my duty as your BFF to have your back. I’ll be the one who protects you.”

  He closed his eyes.

  That was the last thing he wanted.

  Chris wanted to move on.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Liar.”

  She took his hand and held it. Emma knew the best way to deal with Chris was to let him talk when he wanted to talk.

  “I love you.”

  He opened his eyes.

  “I love you too.”

  “When we finish at the sex shop, want to go back, watch a movie, and relax?” she asked. “I’ll pick the movie. You will want to watch shit being blown up.”

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  “And?”

  He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. He appreciated her knowing he wasn’t doing well. Chris was having a damn hard time.

  “Thank you, Emma. It’s proof you really are my best friend. I am struggling.”

  Oh, she was aware.

  Well, she’d make him better.

  It was the least she could do.

  “To the sex shop, partner. Can we get coffee first?” she asked, looking at her watch.

  “Yep.”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me caffeine isn’t good for my heart? It makes it race?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Really?”

  That was odd. He’d been hovering and policing her food for the last week and she deserved it. After all, she’d been just like that to him when he’d been shot.

  “Why?”

  “When you aren’t paying attention, I switch your coffee to decaf. In fact, all the coffee in the condo is decaf.”

  She stared at him.

  He started laughing.

  “It sucks to be babysat, doesn’t it?” he asked, whistling as she stared at him.

  “I’m telling Greyson and Dimitri.”

  He laughed even more.

  “We all know about it. Take that, no carbs for the husband, and vitamins all around. It’s all fun and games when someone runs roughshod over YOUR addiction.”

  She couldn’t believe it.

  “I’m not going to be nice now in that sex shop. No wonder I feel like I’m falling asleep by eleven! You stole my coffee!”

  He continued laughing.

  “I’ll get even, Christopher.”

  Oh, he bet.

  At least some things didn’t change.

  Emma would always make sure of that.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Commissioner’s Office

  In his office, he got the call, warning him that the Crofts were on the move. All of them were out, and they were digging around in his personal business.

  That did not make him happy.

  AT ALL.

  In fact, irritated the hell out of him that the Crofts were digging into his personal life, but he wasn’t surprised. It was only a matter of time for them to make this even more personal.

  Well, it was on.

  After Heath Spencer died, he’d made a little visit to his hideaway and cleared it of anything that might tie him to the attempted murder of Emma Croft.

  The beauty was, no one knew where the man had been hiding.

  Heath had gone under in a place he put him. That hadn’t been about that man, but all about him.

  So, it had been easy.

  Once the FBI and the Crofts had moved on, he headed to the man’s hidey-hole and cleaned up.

  As in threw out anything, and everything, that would make him look guilty.

  Now, there was nothing there.

  He paid the maintenance man, who managed the building, to pretend the man was never there, and it was done.

  Heath was erased.

  His death was the end of that trail.

  Thomas Christ was silenced.

  No one would be pointing a finger at him regarding those deaths. Dead men told no tales. All that was left in the mess was a certain detective, who betrayed him, and the irritating Crofts.

  Well, it was time to make a good plan.

  And then watch them fall.

  Chapter Eight

  Financial Services

  Tuesday Morning

  W hen they arrived at the business, everyone was more than happy to help Greyson Croft and his son, Curtis Croft. When they strolled in, there was coffee, danish, and people bending over backward to make sure they were well taken care of there.

  Why?

  Money talked.

  In Vegas, while they were pariah, they were still filthy rich pariah. He might be considered dirty and crooked in that town, but when it came to businesses wanting him to invest, or give them the Midas Touch, they were all on board.

  Like now.

  So far, it was looking promising. Greyson was hoping that their stop there would be a productive one.

  As they sat in the waiting area, Heath stood behind Curtis and Greyson, giving people the evil eye. If anything, for Greyson, it was laughable.

  Here was a big man wearing a shit ton of riot gear. There was no doubt or mistake that he was there for one purpose and one purpose only.

  Protection.

  Who, in their right mind, was going to go anywhere near them?

  “What are you looking at?” Heath growled at some guy who was walking by.

  The man hauled ass.

  “I like having you around, Heath. They see you and scurry. Dimitri lost his edge. People stopped running. That was probably thanks to the miscreants of Vegas. They think he’s past his prime.”

  “Well, they’re idiots. You never underestimate a killer. You never know when they will snap.”

  He was spot on there.

  Dimitri might look tame with his wounded arm, but he was anything but. He could turn on a dime and bite you in the throat when you least expected it.

  Well, not him.

  Dimitri liked him.

  The rest of Vegas?

  Ehhhh.

  As a woman came their way, Heath put his hand on his gun. She looked nervous as hell to even approach them.

  Greyson was good with that.

  “Mr. and Mr. Croft, you can come this way. Mr. Baker will see you now. He’s cleared his schedule to work on your new stock portfolio.”

  Yeah, they bet.

  And to make one hell of commission, he was sure.

  Greyson and Curtis followed after her with Heath following up at the rear. Inside the office, the man stood and offered them a seat.

  “Mr. Croft, your security can stand outside. I assure you that confidentiality and safety are our number one concerns.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Baker. Heath, watch the door. No one comes in.”

  “On it, Mr. C. Shout if you need me. I’ll bust down the door.”

  Mr. Baker stared at him as if he wasn’t sure if the man was serious or…

  “Thank you, Heath.”

  After the man closed the door, they got down to business.

  “Why are you here, gentlemen?” he asked. “I hear you want to open up some investments for your family.”

  Greyson pulled a check out of his pocket. He’d filled it out that morning.

  The man stared at the number.

  It was an obscene number.

  “I would like to open a trust fund for my granddaughter and one for my child.”

  Since the word was out, he’d use this to his advantage.

  “I see. I can help you with that.”

  He went to reach for the check and Greyson put his hand on it. “BUT, I want some help with other things too. These are things that you, and only you, may be able to help me with.”

  Mr. Baker looked confused.

  “What?”

 
“I’m looking into Libby Raye’s disappearance.”

  He looked surprised.

  “I don’t know how that is relevant to you wanting to build a portfolio for your child and grandchild.”

  Curtis went there.

  “What my father isn’t saying is if you help us, you get the money and the prestige of saying you got Greyson Croft to invest with you. If you don’t help, we walk, and that check goes with us. It’s fairly simple.”

  Croft waited.

  “Are we on the same page?” Curtis asked.

  “I don’t think I can…”

  Greyson slid the check back toward him and went to stand. He knew how to play this game. Money, in Vegas, like almost everywhere, spoke.

  “Wait.”

  Greyson smiled.

  “Yes?”

  “I worked with Libby. She and I worked on a lot of joint accounts together. She was good at her job.”

  “And?”

  “One might even say that she was TOO good at her job, Mr. Croft.”

  Interesting.

  “What does that mean?”

  “The bosses loved her. She was the golden child. She touched an account, and it got her clients money. People were jealous.”

  “Like?”

  “Like everyone—me included. That’s why I worked with her. That’s why I wanted in on that action.”

  Croft knew the man was in a precarious position. If he didn’t tell him everything, he’d look guilty.

  If he did…

  Yeah, he was screwed.

  “Since you worked with her, can you tell us what was her last day of work like?” Greyson asked.

  He thought about it.

  “She was here until five, she headed out, and she told me she had a fun weekend planned. That’s it.”

  “With her husband?”

  He laughed.

  “He had aspirations of moving up the cop ladder. He pretty much worked all the time, weekends included. She let him do his thing, and he let her do hers. As long as the money came in, neither complained.”

  “Who was her biggest competition here at the office? Was it you?”

  “Nah, not me. It was Michael Skinner.”

  “Who is he?”

  “He’s now the head of our division. Only, that’s not all,” he said, lowering his voice.

  “Yes?”

  “They had a holiday party incident.”

  Greyson lifted a brow.