Mob Justice

by Morgan Kelley

  “Funny.”

  “Hardly,” she stated. “It was terrifying,” Poppy stated, as she reached over and took his hand in hers.

  He squeezed it.

  They both needed it.

  “It was a white, nineteen eighty-five Cadillac Eldorado with no plates, and tinted out windows. It was likely stolen. You should call it in to check.”

  Poppy pulled out her phone and did just that. When she finally hung up the phone, he’d been right.

  “It was stolen a couple hours ago.”

  “It looks like your stalker is not happy.”

  She was aware.

  “He nearly got me.”

  Dimitri said nothing.

  He knew the truth.

  The person driving wasn’t after her.

  That was aimed at him.

  And he was fine with that. Let him try.

  Then he’d die the most painful of deaths.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Jeanette Weis’s

  Home

  When Emma and Greyson pulled up, there were two ladies relaxing on the front lanai of the home. They were drinking margaritas, and they didn’t look to have a care in the world.

  “If I ever get like that,” Emma said, “Shoot me. I never want to be a desperate housewife.”

  He laughed.

  “I have some seriously bad news for you, honey. People make you the pinnacle of that status. They all want to be you and married to me. Ironically, the money is yours.”

  “Ours.”

  He gave her a kiss.

  She smelled like him, and he was getting all possessive. Now that the fear was over, he planned on playing catch up from his downtime.

  “I think you should go bra commando more often. I like to see some sexy kitten nips.”

  She snorted.

  “That’s the zipper from the body armor. I’m not cold, but thanks, I think.”

  He grinned wickedly.

  Greyson was her sexy pirate, and it felt good to have him back in his behaving badly state. She liked him like that.

  As they hopped out, one of the women catcalled and whistled at them.

  “God! I hope that was at you and not my ‘nipples’,” Emma stated.

  He laughed.

  Oh, he was sure it was.

  “Hello, ladies, can we talk to you?” Greyson asked, as they reached the lanai.

  “Greyson Croft, you come on over here and have a drink. Then you can ask me anything you want as I stare at that fine hunk of man.”

  Emma let him be leered at. So far, it hadn’t pissed her off. When it crossed a line, she’d blow. If it got them some information, she’d pimp him out.

  It wasn’t like his attractiveness was a shock.

  She’d do him.

  Oh, wait…

  Emma just did.

  “We would like to know which one of you is Jeanette Weis?”

  “I am, Mr. Mob. Take me in. I wouldn’t mind being manhandled by you.”

  “Well, ladies, my wife wouldn’t like that.”

  They both laughed.

  “Screw her,” the big blonde one said.

  And that was the fastest crossed line she’d ever seen, and she was going to assert her dominance.

  Emma walked over and grabbed both margaritas and tossed them, and the glasses, into the shrubs.

  “HEY!”

  She spun a chair and sat on it. Only after pulling a gun out of her purse and slapping it on the table.

  “Screw her, huh?”

  That shut them up.

  Fast.

  “Stop looking at my husband, blondie. I’ll cut your eyes out and sew them to your shirt.”

  She swallowed.

  “Sorry.”

  “We need to ask you some questions about Libby Raye. Start talking,” Emma stated.

  They looked confused.

  “Did they find her?” Blondie asked.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Marcella.”

  “Marcella Lamb?” Greyson asked, taking a seat beside his wife.

  “Yes, why?”

  “We already visited your house. We were told you were her best friend.”

  “Well, yes. I was.”

  “What happened the day she went missing?” Emma asked them.

  They both shrugged.

  “We met for brunch, and she never showed. We were there, and then Emily showed up, and then no Libby. We waited, we called, and she never showed.”

  Jeanette agreed.

  “We called her for two days.”

  “When did you call the police?” Emma asked.

  “We didn’t. We called her husband. He was the one who handled it. He was a captain on some police force. We didn’t see the need to call it in.”

  Emma continued, “Was anyone bothering her?” she asked. “Anyone at all?”

  Marcella shook her head.

  “Not that we knew of.”

  “We heard that she was into other men than her husband,” Emma stated. “Is that true?”

  They didn’t speak.

  “What?” Emma stated.

  “We heard she cheated on her husband, but that was through the grapevine. What happens in Vegas…”

  “Doesn’t apply to your marriage or when you live here,” Emma stated.

  They laughed.

  “Uh, that’s easy to say when that fine piece of ass is your husband. Mine is a bald accountant. If his wallet wasn’t big, I wouldn’t let him stick his dick near me.”

  Jeanette agreed.

  “Mine lasts fifteen seconds and calls me ‘Jeanie-poo’. I haven’t gotten off without a vibrator in nine years. I switched out his Viagra with Melatonin, so he falls asleep. You have it easy.”

  Greyson laughed.

  Yeah, only, that was still no reason to cheat.

  “I’d love him if he was bald, and he only lasted nine seconds. That’s not important.”

  They both laughed.

  “Right, says the woman whose clit gets a workout probably three times a week.”

  Emma laughed.

  “A day. Sucks to be you two,” she stated.

  They were well aware.

  “So why was Libby playing in someone else’s pasture?” Emma asked.

  “Have you seen her husband?”

  “Yeah, he’s a troll, and I wish he’d go back under the bridge, but she had to marry him for a reason.”

  They shrugged.

  “We have no clue. We just got together a few days a month and got shitfaced drunk on margaritas at brunch. One time, she talked about the most amazing orgasm she ever had. We knew it wasn’t Jeffrey. She once showed us a picture of his dick. It was tiny.”

  Emma laughed at that one because, honestly, she couldn’t help herself. He was a tiny-dicked weasel.

  Greyson gave her a look.

  “What? Like we thought it wasn’t? Give me that one at least.”

  He shook his head.

  “Thank you, ladies,” he said, using the term loosely. They were staring at his crotch, and thinking God knew what.

  Emma got up and headed for their ride. It appeared that they’d gotten everything they could out of Libby Raye’s friends.

  Greyson followed behind his wife, and when they got into their ride, he laughed his ass off.

  “I can’t wait to see him and tell him there’s a picture of his tiny dick in circulation,” he said, “and I will too.”

  She snorted.

  “Well, that got us nothing.”

  “Yeah, I know. Let’s head home. Chris might have found something on the people we gave him.”

  Emma hoped so.

  They had gotten some good leads, but now they were running out of anyone to interview.

  No one knew what happened to Libby Raye.

  It appeared that she had disappeared without a freaking trace. They suspected her husband, but unfortunately, they needed proof.

  Damn laws.

  They always made it harder.
>
  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Brent Hedricks’s

  Apartment

  When Dimitri and Poppy arrived at the man’s apartment, they were both calmer. The near hit and run had rattled them both, but they were now focused on the two names that Greg Townsend had given them.

  They didn’t have a ton of time for the day, and Dimitri didn’t want her anywhere near the man who ‘MIGHT’ be her biological father.

  That wouldn't be a good interview.

  So, he talked her into the other man, Brent Hendricks.

  On paper, he seemed pretty harmless. He’d been a neighbor to Eloise, Poppy, and Daisy. He’d been her friend, and they were hoping to catch him at home.

  “After this interview, I’ll drop you back at the hotel penthouse. I have a few things to handle before our evening.”

  She was good with that.

  Poppy wanted to get her hands on some more of Emma’s pretty smelling lotions, so she could get a sexy Russian to touch her.

  Plus, she was maxed out.

  It had been a long, shitty day.

  The cop telling her that her mother was a whore, and both of them nearly getting run down. Hopefully, tonight would be an easy night.

  She was praying for it.

  “That works for me,” she stated. “I have a few things to handle too.”

  “Like?”

  “Wash my hair.”

  He laughed.

  “Really? Don’t women usually do that when they want to avoid a date?”

  She sniffed her hair.

  “I smell like Italian food. That’s what happens when you stuff it in.”

  He laughed.

  “Well, no dinner tonight. We’ll have a snack.”

  She was good with that.

  Poppy flipped through the notes.

  “It says he’s in that apartment,” she stated, pointing at the one not far away.

  “He’s never moved?” Dimitri stated.

  She shook her head.

  Poppy pointed at a red door not far from the man’s. It was where she’d lived, and her family died.

  “That’s where we lived.”

  “Poppy, I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged it off.

  “I’m a cop. I can do this. I can handle it.”

  Dimitri hopped out and met her at her door. He held out his hand for her.

  “You can lean on me.”

  She took it.

  “Thank you, Dimitri.”

  Together, as a unified front, they headed toward the door to talk to the man who was once her mother’s friend. Poppy held her breath as Dimitri knocked.

  No one answered.

  He knocked again.

  Secretly, she was hoping he didn’t. She wanted out of there ASAP. She wanted away from that place. It was filled with bad memories.

  Dimitri looked at his watch.

  It was still early in the day.

  “What does he do for a living?” he asked.

  Poppy thought back to the file that she’d left on the front seat of his car.

  “I think it said he was an accountant.”

  Dimitri got it.

  “It’s tax season. He’s likely at work.”

  Yeah, and she was glad.

  “Can we go? I feel like puking,” she admitted.

  Heading back to the car, he placed his arm over her shoulder and signaled to Ilan. They were heading out.

  This place was hurting her.

  And that was the last thing Dimitri wanted. For the rest of today, he’d help her heal.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Riley Henderson’s

  Home

  Tonight was the night.

  Delilah Fleur was going to be marrying the best guy in the whole damn city. She was so freaking lucky too.

  As she sat there, in his bedroom, she was getting ready. It occurred to her that she needed to call her partner to let him know that she was going to need some time off.

  Finn would cover for her.

  She knew he would.

  As she dialed, she could hear Riley moving around in the spare bedroom next to hers. They’d decided to get dressed separately so they’d be surprised.

  Delilah wouldn’t be walking down the aisle to him, so they wanted something sweet to remember it.

  Riley wanted a white dress, and boy, was he going to get it. She was going to wow him.

  When Finn answered the phone, she couldn’t hold back her excitement.

  “I’m getting married!”

  He paused.

  “Uh, Dee, is that you?” he asked. “This has to be a prank call. You’d never say those words to me.”

  She laughed.

  “Riley proposed, and we’re eloping. You’re like family to me, and I wanted you to be the first to know from my side of our family.”

  “So, one prenup coming up.”

  “Finn.”

  He laughed.

  “Dee, you’re marrying a cop, and you’re marrying some man you’ve dated weeks. Maybe you’re moving too fast. We both know you have a shit ton of assets. You’re loaded. Why is he marrying you?”

  She was appalled.

  “Finn.”

  “Dee, think about it. You make a lot of money every month. At least let me get a prenup together and run it over. I’ll witness it. You’ll be safe.”

  “I am safe with Riley.”

  He laughed.

  “Yeah, said every couple who ever hastily rushed into marriage. I’m your friend, so I’ll be honest. You’re making a mistake.”

  She thought about the video, his emotional request to her parents, and her brother.

  Delilah didn’t buy that.

  “Finn, that’s not nice.”

  “We aren’t nice people, Dee. Why is a nicey-nice cop marrying a barracuda-like yourself?”

  “FINN! I’m not having Riley sign a prenup!”

  “I’m playing devil’s advocate. Think about it. You’re both opposites, and here he is, whisking you off your feet. I want you to be safe, Delilah. That’s all.”

  “Pass on the prenup.”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, well, we’ll have this discussion later. I’ll make sure I don’t rub it in your face at your divorce.”

  Here was the problem with attorneys.

  They were cynical.

  They’d seen it all.

  Yet, with Riley, she saw hope.

  “There won’t be a divorce,” she stated. “There won’t be that day, Finn.”

  “We’ll discuss it when you come back to work. Maybe we can work out something. He’s a cop, so he’s not too smart. Maybe we can get him to sign something after the fact.”

  “FINN!”

  “Dee, let’s be realistic.”

  “I quit,” she stated.

  There was a pause.

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m leaving the partnership. I quit. Since you, who I thought was my friend, thinks this about the man I’m marrying tonight, you can have the law firm. I’m out.”

  “Delilah!”

  “No, Finn, it’s better this way. Riley and I want to start a family. I was going to quit when I got pregnant, but since you ‘KNOW’ him so well, and he’s only after my money, this solves your theory. I’m quitting.”

  “Dee, don’t do this.”

  She hung up.

  It was already done.

  When she looked over, he was standing there in his boxers and nothing else.

  “I’m sorry, but I heard through the wall. I’ll sign. Have him bring it over. I’ll sign it right now.”

  She headed his way.

  “No, Riley. No. We’ll just up my timeline. That’s all. We talked about me staying home and being a mother.”

  “We did.”

  “And that’s what I’ll do. We’ll find a place, somewhere that’s ours, and I’ll work for the Crofts. I can do it from home where I can watch our children.”

  Riley watched her nervou
sly.

  He never once thought about a prenup.

  “Are you sure, Delilah?”

  She kissed him.

  Her body melted into his, and they became one. Through the kiss, his heart thumped, and her hand sat over it. When Delilah pulled away, she stared into his eyes.

  “I love you, Riley.”

  Oh, he loved her too.

  So.

  Much.

  “I love you, too, Delilah. I make more than enough money for us to survive. I’m not worried.”

  Neither was she.

  For the first time in her life, Delilah was willing to risk it all.

  ON RILEY.

  That was how she knew.

  He was definitely the one.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Sky Villa

  When Dimitri arrived back at the condo, the first place he checked for his kids was at his sister’s place.

  They weren’t there.

  Instead, he found his sister and Curtis, and they were spending the afternoon as a happy couple.

  Clearly, whatever the man did, on Greyson’s advice, had worked. They looked calm.

  Curtis was on the couch, cuddling Sadie, and he didn’t look like he was having a meltdown.

  The baby on the other hand was.

  “She sounds fussy,” he said, checking her out.

  “Yeah, she’s not a happy camper,” Curtis said. “We’ve been trying to help her relax, but she’s stressed about something.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Kat said, starting to worry.

  Dimitri’s sisters weren’t babies when he got them, but he did pick up a few things along the way.

  “First, stay calm. Children are like wild animals. They can smell fear,” he teased.

  “Really?” Curtis stated. “You’re going to get a sense of humor now?”

  He laughed.

  “Can I show you something?” Dimitri asked.

  Curtis was at the point he could do freaking magic, and if it calmed Sadie down, he’d take it.

  “Sure.”

  He grabbed her blanket, placed it on the floor, and then held out his hands for the baby.