God, he missed her too.
“If we do this, there needs to be some rules,” he stated, willing to risk his heart again. After all, this was Vegas, and it was go big or go home.
“Like?”
“We take it slow. Last time, we rushed into the relationship. It was a mistake. I want to slow it down and focus on building a strong foundation. We’re not Greyson and Emma. We’re Brynn and Curtis.”
“Deal.”
“We also have to communicate. You shut me out last time, and if that happens again, I’m gone. I’m not going to feel like an outsider in our relationship. If I make you mad, I need to know why, because I can’t read your mind.”
“Deal.”
“No sex.”
She swallowed. “Ever?”
He laughed. “No, eventually. We know that we’re good in bed together, but now I need to see if we’re good in the world. I want to date and woo you, while we build something stronger than just a bed hop. Plus, I’m not moving back in. Not yet, anyway.”
She understood.
“Is that all acceptable?”
Brynn would have given him her arm, had he asked. “Yes, Curtis.”
“That was me being bossy. Can you handle that?”
She grinned. “Yeah, I think I can.”
He had one more thing to ask. “What about your captain bars? You’re not going to throw that in my face again, are you? I know you’re ambitious, but that stung.”
She touched his cheek with the palm of her hand and leaned into him. “I thought they mattered most. I was wrong.” Once more, their lips met.
This time it was sweet.
Gentle.
Loving.
When he had the sense to pull away, he realized that he was going to get his second chance. It filled him.
“We should get to work.”
Brynn picked up a file. “You’re probably right.”
He licked his lips, tasting her on them. “When this is over, can I plan a romantic date?”
“I’d like that very much. That makes me want to work harder now.”
It had the same effect on him.
Hope was back, and he wanted to see where it led them.
~ Chapter Twenty ~
Tuesday Afternoon
Waiting for the report from Commissioner Ford was torture. Once more, Greyson was wearing a completely different path through his carpet.
No matter how much Emma tried to reassure him, he wasn’t having it. If the killer was now going after cops, it meant the ultimate escalation.
The next victim was anyone’s guess.
What if it became his wife? Or civilians?
There was no doubt, something had to be done. If Laden had been secretly investigating them, he could return the favor, but he needed a jumping off point.
Something.
Anything.
Then, there was a knock at his door.
“Come in!” he called, going back to his pacing. When he glanced over at the figure, he was more than surprised. “Doctor Bentley, what can I do for you? It’s not like you to venture over to this neck of the woods.”
He crossed to him. “The cops are plotting your demise,” he began, taking a seat. “It seems you’ve become public enemy number one with the boys in blue.”
Yeah, what was new?
“I need to know if you were behind Sawyer Laden’s death, and I need the truth.”
Greyson wasn’t accustomed to answering to anyone but his bosses. Before he could answer, his wife stepped in.
“I married a good, kind man, Steele. If you’re even implying that he’d stoop so low as to kill a cop, then I see our friendship is nothing more than a sham. You can haul your educated ass out of that chair and back to the morgue, before I kick it there for insulting us.”
Emma stood in front of her husband, like some fiery little shield. He placed his hands on her shoulders, uniting them. They knew the heat would be on, but they didn't expect it this way. They may be playing dirty, but they weren’t cop killers.
Steele stood, moving closer to them. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a piece of paper. “Here.”
Emma opened it. “It’s the official autopsy report! Steele…”
He continued, cutting her off, “I pulled a nine millimeter slug from his heart. It was an instant kill. The person who pulled the trigger knew what they were doing. I also found this,” he said, pulling out a tube with a tester in it. “Your killer left DNA on the shell casing. Obviously, as he was loading it, he made a mistake. This may be your piece of evidence to tie the killer to your case.”
“We can’t use it,” Croft stated, taking the sample. “It’ll be inadmissible.”
He laughed. “You’re the FBI. Use it, find the killer, and bury the truth.”
The men stared at each other.
“We also found blonde hairs in his bed. Only one had a root ball, so I couldn’t grab you a sample. It’s being rushed through now, but it’ll take a few days.”
“This could get you fired,” Croft said. “Why?”
“Let’s just say that I’m sick of standing in the blood of cops. Something needs to be done, and I’m willing to take the risk if some innocent person gets to live another day. I’m a doctor and took an oath.”
“I don’t know what I can do to repay you,” he said, getting excited.
“One day, I may need a favor. We’ll call it even then,” he said, getting ready to leave.
“That’s going to be one hell of a favor,” Croft muttered.
“Yeah, it will be.”
Emma glanced up at her husband, as if gauging his mood. When he nodded at her, giving her the okay, she knew he was okay with it.
“Steele?” she called.
He stopped at the door. “Yeah?”
She went to him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for what you did. I appreciate it and owe you one too.”
He grinned. “Say it with a bottomless box of donuts, Emma,” he teased, heading out the door.
“We need to get this to the lab,” stated Croft.
Emma knew he was right. “You have to protect him, Grey,” she said, honestly. “If this gets out…”
She had nothing to worry about. If anything, he kept his word, no matter what the cost.
* * *
Tessa waited him out.
It didn't take too long, since Paris was exhausted. Leaning over his sleeping form, she left a little kiss on his lips. She knew that he barely slept last night, stressed out and worrying about their relationship.
Deep down, she was too.
In her heart, there was a niggling fear that he would try to force them apart for her own good.
Oh, she knew her partner.
If anything, the man in that bed was the sweetest, kindest, and most generous man she’d ever met. He took a woman who was thrown away as a newborn and breathed life back into her. For now, she would fight to stay at his side. If he tried to make her leave, she wouldn’t do it.
Not now.
Not ever.
If push came to shove, she’d dig in her heels, no matter what he said or did. From his voice last night, she knew he loved her. Tessa had to believe that, or she was lost. In the deepest parts of her soul, she knew the truth and would cling to it.
After all, he had told her that in his heart she was already his wife. If that were true, then she needed to behave like one, and that meant standing by his side, even if it looked dismal.
Tessa knew what he was worried about and it was silly. Only, she needed to find a way to make him understand that she knew what was best for them.
But for now, she needed to get to their house. Tomorrow, they were going to put Paris in some more comfortable clothes. She wanted him to have his pajama bottoms. If he had to lay trapped, and motionless, she wanted him to have dignity.
After saving her life, she’d do anything to save his.
Anything.
&
nbsp; Stroking the hair on his forehead, she listened to him breathe. “I love you, Paris Archer, and I’m going to find a way to make you see that. No matter what it takes.”
When he said nothing, she stole one more kiss for the road. If Tessa hurried, she could be back before he even knew she was gone. Then, that worried her. She had promised to not leave his side. This may scare him.
Heading out to the nurse’s station, she told them her plans. If he were to wake up, could they reassure him that she’d be right back?
Once that was done, she headed outside to get a cab. She couldn’t wait to get back to his side. Even this little bit of distance was difficult. She couldn’t help it.
Tessa was very protective of her sweet man.
At that point, she’d slay anyone who tried to hurt him. It was now her self-appointed job to do so. He needed her, and she in return, needed him. Together, they’d make it.
She had no doubt.
Now, all she had to do was convince him and go from there.
* * *
There she was!
It was finally happening.
Waiting outside the hospital had been the perfect plan. The only problem was that there was no way to take a shot with the rifle and get out of there unseen.
That meant following Tessa Brass and getting closer to her.
Once the agent got to where she was going, there would be an execution.
It was a long time coming, and maybe for this one, it would be face to face.
After all, her demise signaled the end.
Once her blood was spilled, there would be justice for Anthony. He deserved it after what they did to him. Now, came the final strike to settle the score.
It would also mean letting his soul rest.
They were all dead, minus one last one.
Following, there was a sense of anticipation and excitement. Finally, life could go on.
Well for some.
* * *
When Max walked in, the look of confusion on his face didn't bode well for Emma or Greyson. If the head tech was stuck on something, that was generally a bad thing.
“What’s wrong?” Croft asked, already going on alert. He couldn’t handle more bad news, especially regarding the trace they handed him.
“I did what you asked, Director, but I came up with more questions than answers. I quietly ran the sample, keeping it under the radar, and I got a hit.”
That excited them.
“And?”
“It’s from a dead FBI agent. He committed suicide around a decade ago. When I ran the ballistics on the gun and the bullet, which the ME pulled from his head, they matched.”
He didn't understand either.
“Who was it?”
“Special Agent Anthony Dresden,” he replied, handing him the print out. “I can’t check the sample again, there was only enough for one test, but maybe I made a mistake.”
Croft didn't know what to think.
“I’m sorry, Director. I feel like I let you down.”
Croft patted him on the shoulder. “You did your best. I’ll take this information to the rest of the team and see if we can tie it to this case. Thank you, Max,” he said, grateful that his team was working on it.
When the man left, Emma didn't know what to say. “How can we have a dead agent taking all these lives?”
He had no idea, but he knew where to start. “We need my little research assistant to get busy.”
“Curtis is going to growl at you.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know. Some days it’s good to be boss.”
When they arrived in the conference room, they found Curtis and Brynn surrounded by tons of papers, as they tried to eat and work at the same time.
“What the hell is all this?” Croft asked, waving his hand to encompass the chaos.
Briggs looked up. “We had to search back twenty years for files. Apparently, the FBI isn't all fully loaded into the server. I had to request the hard copies.”
Croft shook his head. “Okay, well, take a break from it. Max got us our information, and I need you to run it for me.”
Anything was better than this mess.
“Okay, let me have it,” he said.
“I need everything on a Special Agent Anthony Dresden.”
Curtis began typing furiously, pulling up program after program to enter in the search parameters. Suddenly, he heard a beep and glanced up. “Uh, that’s never happened before,” he said. “I don’t understand,” he added.
They moved to stand behind him. On his screen, there was a security box.
“Since I’m your partner, I have a fairly high clearance level. I don’t think I’ve ever been denied access,” he stated, actually getting nervous. If there was a block, it had to be for a very good reason.
Croft took the tablet and entered in his own ID and password. When the screen cleared, he handed it back to his partner. “Go ahead. You can use my password.”
“I’m going to need it further into this screen,” he stated.
Greyson sighed. “Emmamylove.”
Curtis started laughing, recalling how Paris had done pretty much the same thing. “Nice,” he teased. “It’s good to know the ‘Ice King’ has a soft spot.”
Emma slapped him on the back of the head. “Stop teasing him. I think it’s sweet.”
Brynn agreed.
“Yeah, let’s get to work,” Croft stated, as heat crept up his neck. When it came to his wife, he didn't have a soft spot. He had a giant cavernous hole.
“Okay, here we go,” he said, pulling all the files into a central one so they could read them. “It appears that Anthony Dresden and the Montego Case go hand in hand.”
Both Feds knew this was bad.
“What?” Emma and Brynn said at the same time. They had no clue why the men looked so worried.
Croft broke it down for them. “Montego is a black eye for the FBI. It’s like Waco. There was this man holed up with his family and four kids in his shelter. He barricaded them in, swearing that it was the end of the world and Jesus was on his way. Well, the FBI was called in for a hostage retrieval.”
“Oh boy,” Emma said, thinking back. “I think I heard about this.”
“If you did, then you’re lucky. The FBI buried it, other than one single news blurb. If you wanted to see a cover-up, this was it. It was handled in-house from start to finish.”
“What happened?” Brynn asked.
“After a week, communication stopped, so the FBI moved in. Their primary job was to safely extract the kids. If the man and his wife wanted to play end of the world, no one would stop them, but there were kids from three to ten years old in there, and they needed to be saved.”
Curtis picked up. “The FBI uses this case as an example of what not to do in a hostage situation.”
Croft agreed. “When the team went in, the first man through the door was told to not fire unless there was a clear and present danger. Instead, he ‘thought’ he saw a weapon and unloaded his gun into the darkened room.”
Brynn was sick to her stomach. “And?”
“He killed four kids and the mother who was trying to protect them. Here, the father had destroyed the radio equipment so they could block out the authorities.”
“Who was the first agent through the door?” Emma asked.
Curtis flipped through the information. “Anthony Dresden.”
“As soon as he fired, the father went nuts. He was shot and killed. Anthony Dresden wiped out an entire family. When the dust settled, the FBI held an internal investigation to see if he had indeed acted inappropriately. You never know what you’ll face going through a door, but in this case, they found him guilty of manslaughter. His career was over and he was heading off to jail.”
Curtis continued, “It was a mess. The only highpoint was the media was kept out of it. The FBI transported the bodies, and the family was buried in an unknown location.”
“So, Detective Laden was right. There was a cover-up, but
just not the one he thought.”
Croft nodded. “Since then, the FBI has worked hard to not let anything like this happen again.”
“Uh oh,” Curtis said.
“What?”
“I know how the killer is picking the victims. Listen to this and tell me what you think,” he said, reading the details from the file.
“Agent Tim Eastman was partnered up with Anthony Dresden. When the case went to trial, he was asked to testify and did. He vouched that the entire team was asked to hold back.”
They waited.
“Want to guess who led the independent investigation?” Briggs asked.
“Who?” Emma asked.
“Horace Westerly.”
So far, they were on the right trail.
“What else, Curtis?” Croft asked. They needed to lock this down and get it closed up. They FBI wasn’t going to want this one dug back up for the public to see.
“The case had two lead investigators. It was William Lewis and Philip Cahill. After this case, they each partnered up with different people.”
“The photo on the mantle,” stated Brynn. “They were in the picture together. It must have been when they were partners.”
Croft pointed. “There has to be more, let’s go. Give me everyone who worked the Montego case.” His gut was screaming, and he knew that this had to be it. It was a matter of hearing it all come together.
“That list is too long, but I can shorten it by telling you about the court case. At the top of the list is Anthony Dresden. Then, Tim Eastman and Lester Williams both testified about the directive being ignored. We have Jane Pepper being asked in front of the private court what she saw. Apparently, she was behind him when he went through the door. She had his back.”
They waited as he scanned.
“Maggie Clark profiled the case, advising that the father wouldn’t shoot the kids. She believed he wouldn’t have had any weapons. It was a religious cult, and would have chosen poison over guns.”
Croft mentally marked another off the list.
“What about Tessa?” Brynn asked. “Was she there?”
Love is Bleeding (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 4) Page 46
