Tessa stared at her, as big wet tears coated her eyelashes.
“He’s kept it all these years, because she told him it came from her heart and as long as he had it, she was with him and part of him. Now, you can do the same. He’s right here,” she said, tapping her chest and the delicate gold necklace. “He must love you a lot to trust you with his prized possession.”
“I love him so much too,” she replied, placing her fingers over the necklace.
“Then come with us. Your boss got you in. He needs you now more than anything, and while we’re his past, you’ll hopefully be his future.”
She nodded and took the woman’s hand.
“Let’s go see my son,” she said, squeezing her hand.
Tessa let them lead her down the hall into the unknown. For now, she would wait until he woke, and her heart was whole once more.
Then, she’d beg for his forgiveness.
* * *
Sunday Late Evening
Greyson hated leaving Tessa and Paris alone at the hospital, but getting work done on his phone was becoming an inconvenient pain in his ass. He needed to be face to face with his people, in hopes that they would have something for him.
As he walked into the conference room, the looks on their faces said it all. This was going to be one hell of a long night.
“What do you have?” Croft asked, as he and Emma took seats beside them.
“The FBI lab hasn’t gotten us any forensics back, the ME is still working on Maggie Clarke, and we have both of their tablets, but one is locked down tight. We can’t access Paris’s to see what he was working on.”
He glanced down at his watch. At that time of the night, the equipment techs would be gone. He didn't have any computer brains to hack the tablet.
“May I see it?” Emma asked, accepting it from the agent. As she began playing with it, it took only three tries until she got it.
“How did you do that?” asked her husband, as Curtis and Brynn stared in surprise.
“Well, I work in a lower budget department. We can’t call a tech guy to hack anything, so I had to use my brain. I know that Paris is in love, so I assumed that he’d use a password that would remind him of his sweetheart.”
They stared at her.
“It was TessaBrass. You’ll have to warn him to be trickier when he returns,” stated Emma, laughing as they stared at her. “What? You think I became a detective because I won the cop lottery?”
Croft handed the tablet back to Briggs. “I want everything on here downloaded and pulled apart. Tomorrow morning, we begin searching through all the files. I need to know what was going on in his head.”
They made notes.
“Also, I want you to go through all of Maggie’s files too. I know they both had two different ideas, but right now, I’m down two profilers. I don’t have a spare to work anything up with. You need to get going on this.”
“We’re moving forward with no profiler?” Curtis asked, surprised by that.
“No, we’re going to extract it all, and then I’ll call Ethan Blackhawk in the morning. The killer won’t go after Tessa in the hospital, and that means as long as she’s there, we have time.”
Emma agreed. “We just have to assume that the killer is going to go after her until she’s dead.”
“Are we sure it was Tessa?” asked Brynn. “What if it was someone else? We scrambled and the shooter could have lost his target. I mean, all you Feds were standing there in the same pullovers.”
Croft knew what it was like to be behind the sight of a gun. A killer didn't pull the trigger unless they were sure. If Paris was right, this person had a plan and plenty of time to do it. That bullet was meant for Tessa Brass. From the angle, it was heading directly at her. No one was behind or next to her. Croft didn't buy it was an accident.
“Dig into her past. Find a list of all the cases she’s ever touched. I want to know why someone wanted her dead. If we work backwards, we can maybe figure out how she’s related to this case.”
They both got down to it.
“We’ll be in my office. I need to handle some paperwork and put some pressure on the lab team.”
Emma followed him to the door.
“I meant it. Get me something. I need you both now, since I’ll be tying up loose ends and handling the media.”
Curtis leaned back in his chair. “Well, it looks like we’re on paperwork duty. I hope we find something.”
Yeah, she knew what he was saying. Now, they were racing against the clock.
This time, it didn't look like they were going to win.
* * *
When she saw him, her heart sank in her chest. Paris was full of tubes and wires. He didn't look good at all. His eyes were closed, there was a halo keeping his head stationary, and a heart monitor beeping as fluid dripped into his body.
“Oh Jesus,” she muttered, closing her eyes tight. Suddenly, the room spun and she needed to get to the bathroom. She was going to toss everything in her stomach.
As she raced inside and hit her knees, she purged it all. All the coffee that was burning a hole in her gut had now traced its way back up to prolong the torture.
Behind Tessa, there were footsteps. Finally someone knelt beside her as she got everything out of her body. Tessa could see him from her peripheral and it made her hurt that much more.
They looked so much alike.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping her mouth with the tissues Roger Archer handed her.
“It’s okay, Tessa. This has to be pretty upsetting for you.”
She started laughing, and it was somewhere between crying and sardonic humor. Sitting on the bathroom floor, she started weeping again. “He looks just like you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I see you, and I can see Paris twenty years from now. He’s going to be so handsome.”
He took her hand in his. “I need to know something,” he began. “If he wakes up and can’t walk again, are you staying or leaving?”
She stared at him in shock. “I’d marry him tomorrow,” she replied. “I don’t care if he’s paralyzed. I love Paris, not his legs.” Then, she tried to lighten the mood. “Although in running shorts, they are sexy.”
He smiled, grateful for the woman his son had found. “That’s all I needed to know. I’m glad he’s going to have you in his life. I believe you’ll be good for him, especially since he’s going to need someone to help him through all this.”
She shook her head. “No, he’s good for me. Your son is the best thing that ever happened to my life. I can’t live without him. He’s my best friend.”
That eased his heart, knowing that there wasn’t only lust and attraction between the two of them. There was so much more.
It meant his son’s heart had a fighting chance.
“You should go and see him,” Roger Archer said, holding out a hand to help her up. “He’ll need you at his side if he wakes up. I imagine that he’s going to be scared and afraid of what’s coming.”
“He’s tough, but I’ll stay right there with him. I won’t leave Paris alone. I promise,” she vowed.
Somehow, he didn't doubt it.
Tessa took his offered hand and let him pull her to her feet. “I’ll be right out,” she said, pointing at her mouth. “I just want to rinse.”
He walked out, leaving her to have a few moments of privacy. When she was done, she stared into the mirror and into her tear stained face. It was time to stop crying. Paris needed her, and come hell or high water, she was going to be there for him, no matter what.
The time for mourning was over.
Now, she was moving forward, and following Paris Archer wherever he led.
It was time to protect him, like he had done for her all these months.
With a deep breath, she headed out. Both of his parents were standing along one side of his bed, and his mother was holding his hand. Finding the bravery, she approached and took his other hand in hers. It was cold to the touch, and it made her he
art ache. Leaning over, she placed her lips over his and gently kissed him. The feel was the same, and the scent of his after shave was there. Only, he didn't kiss back.
“I’ll be here when you wake up, Paris. I’ll wait until my dying day to get you back. I love you more than anything,” she vowed. “You’re the bravest and smartest man I’ve ever met in my entire life. I’ll stay and fight for us no matter how hard the road ahead.” She ran her fingers across his cheek, and lower lip. “I adore you and need you to come back to me, Paris. I can’t live without my other half.”
Daphne and Roger’s eyes filled with tears at her candid, love filled word. Where they had been worried that she would bail if they found out he was paralyzed, they now saw that wasn’t the case.
She would stick.
Their son now had their strong foundation and could beat the odds.
In this case, love would prevail because it had a fighting chance.
* * *
He sat at his desk in the police precinct staring at a bunch of papers in front of him. For hours, he had been trying to figure out what was going on in the FBI killings. As he searched all the public records, and the few accessibly police databases, he had an epiphany.
It was so simple, because it was the only logical explanation. It was right there.
Detective Sawyer Laden couldn’t believe the Feds didn't see this one a mile away. It was so basic that a child could figure it out. The answer was right under their noses. All he had to do was trace it back to the source.
As his co-workers were getting up from their desks, planning on a night of revelry, he opted to join in.
Slapping Detective Heath Spencer on the back, he spoke, “I’m coming boys! Count me in.”
They all looked over at him, surprised that he was joining them. Lately, he’d been occupied on his weekends. This was a definite surprise.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Mace Bristol asked, tucking his firearm back into the holster at his hip, as he prepared to cut out with them. He wanted a drink and to forget the pain in his heart.
“I’m about to tie a big red ribbon on the FBI case, hand it to the media, and embarrass the Feds,” he gloated.
They all rolled their eyes. Sawyer Laden had it in for Emma and Greyson Croft since day one, and no one there believed anything the man was bragging about.
Laden had moments of sheer idiocy, and his plan to screw with the FBI was at the top of the list.
“I’m serious. The team of Croft and Croft now has competition in crime solving.”
They all laughed as they headed out. No one was buying it, but at least they didn't have to listen to him whine.
“I’ll even buy the first round!”
Well, maybe his delusional intentions would pay off. Free drinks were something they could all get behind.
* * *
Monday Morning
Arriving at the lab after pulling an all-nighter in his office, due to putting out publicity fires, Greyson Croft was tired, cranky and wanted to close this case soon. He’d left Emma to continue working in his office, hoping that she’d find something.
He’d been forced to face the media mongrels, and it wasn’t pretty. Granted, that weekend he and Emma were the darlings, but now there was a murmur of an FBI cover-up.
Yeah, he only wished it was that damn simple. There wasn’t anything to hide, simply because they were waiting for that one big break to help them pull off a miracle. For now, Croft was praying that it would come from his visit to the lab.
“Max, I need something,” he said, focusing on his head lab tech. “You’re the best I have, so please tell me that you found something that I can use to get my bosses and the media off my ass. When they’re on mine, I’m going to have to be on yours.”
The man hoped what they had was good enough to soothe the Greyson Croft beast.
“Well, we completed the run on Lester Williams’s tablet. I can say that without a doubt, the man was conducting himself unprofessionally with a woman other than his wife. We found lots of pictures, cut off from the face, and they were all naked.”
“How do you know it’s not his wife?” After all, his Emma had been known to send him a sexy shot now and again when she was feeling frisky. Croft fought to not let his mind wander there, but it was so damn hard.
“I headed over to visit the ME at the police station, and gave them to Doctor Bentley. He did a visual of them, comparing them to the deceased wife, Leslie Lester. The birthmarks didn't match up.”
He was proud of his team. This is why he relied on them.
“Okay, so how hard is it going to be to find the woman? We have her ISP, correct? Can’t we just trace her to that?”
Max hated giving the boss any bad news, but unfortunately, he was about to lay some on him.
“We did trace it, but it didn't come back to a private address. It was a coffee shop out by the strip. The email address is bogus. It was set up while she was at the shop, using their Wi-Fi. All the contact she had with the victim originated there. We also ran his ISP off the tablet found in his home, it matched his neighbor’s router details. He was definitely being sneaky.”
Shit.
This wasn’t looking good.
“I even sent a few techs over to hunt down the blonde, but we couldn’t show them naked pictures for an ID. It’s a coffee shop, not a strip club. They even asked if they had any blondes working on tablets, and they laughed at us.”
Great.
“Apparently, that’s a popular hair color in Vegas. While in there, the two techs photographed and documented six women working on laptops.
“Max, we can’t use that.”
He grinned. “Boss, that coffee shop has memorabilia all over the walls. It’s an icon in Vegas. They pretended to be interested in the tchotchkes and scored up the pictures.”
He started laughing. “Nice. You guys get some bonus points for creativity. Unfortunately, I can’t hand that to my bosses or the media.”
“Sorry, Director. We’re really trying to get you something,” he stated. “How’s the agent doing?” he suddenly asked.
“Not good. He’s not able to feel anything below the impact spot on his back.”
Max looked physically ill. Being paralyzed was one of his big fears. It would put a damper on his life. “Man, I’m so sorry.”
Croft nodded. “I’ll pass that along to him and his field partner.”
He tried to refocus. “We checked Maggie’s house, and there wasn’t a lot to be found. Her fingerprints were on everything we tested, and her DNA was predominant. There was only one place where we found another sample.”
That had his attention. “Where?”
“In her bed. We pulled the sheets, and there was definitely someone in bed with her at some point. It’s running right now, but it could just be a date, boyfriend, or one night stand for all we know.”
Croft sighed. “Okay, talk drugs to me.”
Max flipped to the next page of his file. “We got the tox samples from Doctor Bentley and ran them on Maggie Clark. She was clean. Nothing in her system, and to double check, we asked for a hair sample to take it back a few months. There was nothing. Our dead profiler wasn’t taking anything long term or narcotic.”
“Great. That just took care of Doctor Havers as one of our suspects. Drugs was a motive we were working on.”
“I have more bad news, Director. We tested the pills you found in Billy Lewis’s place. It was definitely a narcotic and matched the prescription we had for him.”
“Okay, and?” he knew something was coming, and since the man before him lacked enthusiasm, it wasn’t going to be anything good.
“The chemical breakdown of the pills, which were found in the bag, are all the same. That means that they were likely from the same batch. Nothing was different about them.”
“And that means?”
Max broke it down for him. “They probably all came from the same pharmacy and same bottle. When we pulled the prescription, w
e found that Billy Lewis was prescribed three months’ worth of pain pills. In the bag, we found fifty six total pills.”
He wasn’t seeing it. “It’s been a long night, Max. Just cut to the chase and tell me what you’re trying to say.”
“His prescription was for thirty pills each. That’s ninety. It looked like a lot in the bag, and why he took them out of the bottles I don’t know, but he wasn’t doing anything illegal when it came to obtaining the drugs. If anything, he was hoarding his prescription, maybe for later or selling them on the street. Each one of those pills would go for twenty bucks a pop. The agent was probably thinking about supplementing his income, if he wasn’t already.”
“Damn it! We’re going in circles. We get one piece of evidence and it takes us nowhere, or right back to where we started again. This is getting frustrating.”
He felt for the man. That’s why he was glad he was a lab rat. Being in here was fairly simple.
It was all about the science.
“Okay, what about the hand print?”
Max pulled out the next paper and scanned it. “It was done with the same craft paint, and they all measured the same size.”
That gave Croft an idea. He held up his hand. “Measure me.” He had to give his staff credit. Max didn't question it.
“It’s nowhere close to your hand size.”
“How about yours?”
Max took another measurement, and then compared the numbers. “It’s fairly close. But, I have the average size hand, sir. You’re the aberration here.”
Well, it was worth a try.
Max continued, “The person doing this is leaving us nothing. When the sweep team checked the tree line, where you saw the scope, they found nothing. The ground was barely disturbed. It’s like our killer is light as a feather, and not leaving any trail of his presence.”
Croft remembered being like that in the woods, but he still left some trace. He was a big man and couldn’t just walk through dirt without leaving prints.
Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 40
