His woman was a miracle.
As the condominium door opened, Emma walked in carrying a handful of mail. Her focus was on one of the papers.
Greyson was up and charging at her. When he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, she looked up at him, startled.
“Grey!”
She wasn’t able to say anymore, since his mouth had crashed down onto hers and was busily plundering. Emma couldn’t focus, since it was one hell of a kiss.
When the mail fell from her hand, and she wrapped her arm around his neck, Dante laughed.
“You two are something,” he said, heading into the kitchen to not have to watch his brother put the moves on his babe.
Slowly, he broke away and stared down into her eyes. They were sparkling and filled with heat.
“If I had more time this morning, I’d carry you into our room and make love to you for hours,” he stated, leaving kisses across her face.
Emma smiled. “I see you found the paperwork.”
He kept her pressed to his body, as he tucked some red hairs behind her ear. “I was prepared to have to sign like a maniac this morning. Why, Emma?”
She stared into his gray eyes and shared her heart. “You work so hard to give us this amazing life and home. When you fell asleep last night, I knew you’d be angry at yourself for not getting your work done, so I did it. I wanted to help you carry some of the weight that’s crushing you. If I could take off a little of the burden, then you wouldn’t be worried that you couldn’t pull it off.”
“I love you.” What else could he say? She’d given him something spectacular and priceless.
Peace.
Emma rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I love you too, Greyson.”
“I think that I’m the luckiest man alive,” he said, releasing his wife. “Now, I actually have time for coffee and a muffin.” Since she’d been up all night working, he’d eat the health-laden muffins without a fight. For what she’d given him, he’d eat a ton of tofu, willingly.
“I waited for you,” she replied, taking his hand in hers.
In the kitchen, they found Dante pouring three mugs of coffee as he ate another muffin.
“Em, these are killer. Can we have them again tomorrow?”
Croft picked one up, and they indeed were warm. Peeling off the wrapper, he placed one on a napkin for his wife. “It smells like chocolate.”
She nodded and accepted the coffee mug. “It is.”
“Carob?” he asked, grabbing one for himself.
“No, plain old chocolate chip,” she replied, knowing that he was expecting something healthy in them. Generally, she liked to add flax, or shredded zucchini just to get him to eat something with vitamins. This time, they were straight muffins. Emma would be lying, if she didn't admit that she liked messing with him. It was always fun to watch him trying to figure out what the hidden ingredient was.
When he bit into it, he closed his eyes.
Dante went to speak and was promptly cut off.
“Hush, son. I’m having moment with my woman’s muffins.”
Emma began laughing, since that sentence sounded so very wrong to her, and apparently Dante too.
Croft didn't care. It was real chocolate. In the last ten hours, he’d gotten his wife to cater to his needs, do his paperwork, and bake him something that was likely unhealthy.
Today was his best day ever.
“About tonight,” she began. “If you’re too busy, Grey, I can handle this myself. I understand that we’re in the middle of an assignment. If I didn't think it would help the shelter, I’d back out myself.”
He wasn’t having it. “You’re not going alone, and your husband needs to be at your side. We’re a couple, and because this is important to you, it matters to me too.”
“I could take her,” Dante offered. “Just give me a gun, and I’ll keep her safe.”
They both began laughing at the absurdity of that.
“You realize that the government found me competent enough to carry a weapon, right? They even let me load it too!”
“Yeah, and the government never does anything insane,” Croft added, grinning at his brother. “While I appreciate it, Dante, she’s my responsibility, and I’ll keep her safe. We have extra tickets, if you want to come along.”
“You realize I’m quite capable of doing the job myself, right? I don’t need a big caveman to babysit me,” Emma protested.
Her comment had his full attention. Reaching around to bury his hand in the hair at her neck, he forced her to stare into his eyes. “Emma, you’re mine, and I’ll keep my woman safe. I own this relationship, and it’s my job.”
Dante cringed. His brother was in dangerous territory. Women didn't like being told what to do, and they didn't like to be told they were some man’s property.
This was going to be ugly. He prepared to grab a muffin and run for cover.
Emma saw the determination and the storm clouds brewing in his eyes. She knew her husband, and he needed to believe that he could keep her safe. This had been one of the constants in their relationship, since their eyes met over death. So, she took one for the marriage team. “Yes, Grey.”
Dante stared open mouthed. “Holy shit!”
Greyson kissed her, enjoying how his body was roaring to life. He honestly believed that she’d fight him, but once more, his wife was giving him something so precious.
Her trust.
Since everything around him was exploding, this gave him a little more stability. His woman was letting him be the man he was inside and out.
“Thank you,” he said, softly against her lips, as he broke the kiss.
Emma took his hand in hers, as they sat there, eating their breakfast.
“So, what do I have to wear to this shindig tonight?” Dante asked, sipping his coffee. “Do I need to go out and buy a suit?”
Croft shook his head. “I have a spare tux. You can use it. We’re just about the same size.”
“Wow, a tux? When will the limo be picking us up?” he asked teasingly.
“Six,” he replied.
“I was kidding. I didn't think we’d have an actual limo.”
Emma confirmed what he was saying. “We do, because he’s the big man in Vegas, and because we need to look like we’re in Randall Mason’s pocket.”
That still bothered Croft, despite knowing the truth.
“This auction is a big deal to us,” Greyson began, telling him about the shelter. “It’s like a dog and pony show tonight. Emma will bring in a good chunk of money when Randall Mason tries to scoop her up.”
Saying it irritated him to no end, but they knew the truth. The man was the only way that Croft could keep his wife safe.
Glancing down at his watch, he stood. “I have to head in for a little while to check on the team. Will you be safe, Emma? I can’t focus at work if I know you’re running all over the place unprotected.”
She had the same feelings about him leaving her sight. Alas, Emma knew he had a job to do. Everything pointed away from him being a target.
“I can go with you,” she offered.
“No, you have to practice today and get ready for tonight.” He motioned toward their piano. It had been one of his Christmas gifts, replacing their little reading nook.
“I’ll keep her entertained,” Dante said.
Croft stood. “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel less worried,” he teased, even as he was grateful she’d have company.
“Yeah, yeah. Go get ready. Emma’s going to play the piano for me, and I can’t wait.”
She watched him walk away. “So you’re sticking around to take on babysitting, huh?”
“Nah. I miss being around you guys. I want to spend some time with you. Plus, I stuffed myself with muffins. I need to lump on the couch for a while until the carb high wears off.”
She laughed, holding out her hand. “Come on, Dante. I’ll bore you to tears.”
He was too mu
ch like his brother, and Grey didn't look all that bored. “Give it your best shot.”
* * *
Detective Sawyer Laden sat at his desk, digging through some papers which he’d printed out. He was irritated with the FBI, and truly believed that there was some sort of cover-up going on.
That had to be the reason why they were only letting Emma Croft work the cases. Because she was his wife, she was easily bribed.
Of course she would cover for the man she was married to.
Well, he wasn’t going to let it happen. People may actually believe that he didn't give a shit, but it was all lies. He cared a great deal about his job and justice.
To him, it mattered.
Now, he was going to help the scales balance a little more evenly.
At the sound of heels on the floor, he glanced up to see his boss arriving. For a Saturday morning, the place was pretty deserted.
“Hey, I thought I’d find you here,” she said, stopping at his desk. “Do you have a case to close?” asked Captain Patty Stout.
Laden pointed at a pile of papers siting on his desk before speaking, “I’m working on the FBI killings, because I smell a rat.”
“Do you?” she began, but his words had her attention. “Wait, you’re helping the FBI? You have to be kidding me. The FBI director actually backed down? I didn't see this day ever coming!” she said, laughing. “Maybe I am good at this captain thing.”
Laden dropped his voice, ignoring her inquiry. No, Croft didn't actually know that he was dicking around in his case. “Let’s just call this ‘interdepartmental cooperation’,” he said, grinning. “Oh, and for the record, you’re good at a lot of things.”
She blushed. “Yeah, so you keep saying. Just make sure no one hears you but me,” Patty replied, winking at him. “Some secrets don’t need Commissioner Ford’s attention. If he finds out, one of us is getting transferred.”
Yeah, that would suck.
She changed the topic. “What did you find?”
He shook his head. “Nothing yet, really. I’m still just running background checks on the victims. I don’t buy that it’s random. If I was a killer, I’d have taken out the head cop first. He’s the big bait, so that means, it’s buried beneath that. I’m going to see what they have in common. It looks like a military killing. All stealthy and quiet,” he added. “It may even be an inside job.”
She was torn. “Okay, just keep it on the down low. If you clear this, the Feds will look like assholes, and we’ll have our vindication and likely a few commendations.” She was all over getting some more accolades. It would only help her climb the ladder.
He grinned. “Yeah, I know. You’d look damn good sitting in the commissioner’s office, and I wouldn’t mind being Emma’s boss.”
Yeah, he’d make her life sheer hell.
“That might be arranged, Detective Sexy,” she offered, winking.
Laden made a zippering motion across his mouth. “I can’t wait, Patty cakes.”
She snorted and headed to her office. “You’re a goof.”
“Are you working all day?” he called after her. Maybe later, they could get a drink.
She shook her head. “I just came in to sign off on payroll, and then I’m heading out.”
“Later?” he asked.
Captain Patty Stout knew she shouldn’t be fraternizing with a subordinate, but the man was hot in bed. “Yeah, definitely later. Your place?”
Yeah, that worked for him.
It was going to be a damn good day.
* * *
Randall Mason was excited about the evening. Tonight, he was going to get to hear his Emma play the piano and be the star of the show.
It was well worth waiting for, since his deceased Aria had once done the same thing. He couldn’t help but make the parallels in his mind.
They looked alike.
They behaved similar.
She played the piano like his love once had.
It was evident that Emma Croft was a message from his dead wife. How could all of this be anything else? From the day she walked into his life, nothing had been the same. Much like it had been with his beloved wife. Now, he was going to get to buy some time with her.
Only to hear her play, of course.
There was no doubt that she was completely and totally dedicated to one man. Still, he could pretend that she was the reincarnate of his Aria. On the night she would to play for him, he could pretend. In fact, he had the date all planned out. Coming up in a couple of months, it would be the anniversary of her death. What better night than that? He could hear her favorite songs, and pretend he still had his heart.
As he was lost in the revelry of his daydreams, his phone began to ring. It irritated him, but the show must go on.
“Hello?”
He listened to the caller give him all the details. When the man was finished, he needed to know.
“Are you sure?”
Again, he waited. When he got confirmation, he thanked him and disconnected the call. Apparently, there was some chitchat going on in Vegas.
Tonight, there would be other bidders for Emma Croft. In the back of his mind, he suspected someone but as of yet, he didn't have the proof.
A part of him wondered if he should call Greyson and give him the heads up. Then, he opted not to do it. The man was already tied up in knots. Why stress him more?
Leaning back, he worked on his game plan. Tonight, nothing would stop him from getting Emma Croft to play for him. He’d give up a fortune to have her all to himself.
He stared at the painting on his wall.
Nothing would stop him.
* * *
The first stop on his visit to the office was his lab. What he needed was for someone to find something. A stray hair or anything else that might give him a tiny lead in the right direction. Time was ticking. There was no doubt in his mind that the killer was going to make a move, and soon.
As he entered, he crossed his fingers and said a little prayer. Maybe since the paperwork Gods smiled on him, so would the DNA ones.
Inside, his head tech, Max, was working behind a microscope. When he looked up, Croft already knew his prayers were not going to be answered.
Yeah, it was going to be a big negative there.
“Nothing, huh?”
Max shook his head. “We have a pro, Director. This killer isn't having any physical contact with his victims. Instead, he watches from afar and keeps his DNA safe. We know he’s heading into their homes, but with the exception of Leslie Williams and Jane Pepper’s desk, he’s not touching anything. The locks aren’t busted, and the perp is making his exit the same way he went in. I’m guessing that he’s going in with his gloves on, already prepped to leave the hand print.”
Croft was frustrated. “I hate this.”
Max did too. “We’re still digging,” he stated. “We analyzed the shot. It’s wasn’t an impossible one to make, but it was hard. The shooter is very familiar with weapons. Even with a scope, he had to be skilled.”
“Yeah, there was wind, and then bullet drag. He’d have to compensate for both and do it flawlessly. In my experience, it was a difficult shot. I stood in the spot and checked it out.”
Max wondered how much experience he had.
“I’m going to send the team back out to search each place. Maybe we can find something different.”
“Do you want us to do it?” he asked, willing to take on the job.
“No, we’re going to break it up and do the searches ourselves. We might see something that you haven’t.”
Max was good with that. “We’ll keep digging, Director,” he stated, getting back to work. From the look on his boss’s face, there was no time to spare.
* * *
Croft stopped in the office where two of his agents were still working. “Can you join us over in the conference room? I want to know what we have so far,” he asked, heading out.
When they followed behind, he glanced down at his watch.
He needed to be aware of the time, because he had obligations to keep tonight, and his wife mattered more than anything.
Once in the room, he took a seat. “Someone tell me something. Let’s start with what we know.”
Brynn sipped her coffee before she began. They’d been awake most of the night, and the rest of the hours had them sleeping on the floor, just to get horizontal. “I can tell you who the killer isn't,” she offered.
Croft waited for it.
“I called down to holding. Bobby Holmes didn't get released until a couple hours after Jane Pepper was murdered. So, he has us to thank as his alibi.”
“Awesome,” he stated, less than enthused. That meant that they just lost one suspect, and Bobby Holmes had been a good one.
“Yeah, we also caught his blonde scatterbrained wife on the news. They were replaying it all night. He walked out and she ran to him, practically in slow motion. He’s looking like the poor abused citizen and we’re looking like the schoolyard bullies. The media is buying into her story that we’re on a corrupt witch hunt.”
Even better.
Now, Croft’s head was about to explode.
“Well, what’s the plan, boss man?” Curtis asked, praying that the ‘Ice King’ stayed hidden until they were all in the clear.
“We’re going to go back out this morning and start rechecking the houses. The only one we’re omitting is Horace Westerly’s. Since his wife is still living there, anything that we might have come up with is likely moved or tainted,” Croft stated.
That appeared to be their only logical step.
Croft knew they needed to figure something out and fast. “Take a couple agents and divide and conquer.” He pointed at his profiler as he stood. “Not you, Paris. We need to have a little talk, alone.”
The man actually swallowed.
Tessa froze beside him. “I can stay and help, if you need me to, Director,” she offered, not willing to let Paris take the heat for what they’d done that morning. There was a good chance that the boss had already found out.
Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 31
