Yeah, this shit had to be shutdown.
Now.
They knocked.
When the woman came to the door, she looked like every other woman in Vegas.
A little plain.
A little desperate housewife-y.
A little nondescript.
Yeah, they had her number. She would be the madam in question. They liked to blend.
“Can I help you?” she asked, suspiciously.
It was clear she’d encountered cops before and was ready to lie her ass off to stay out of the cage.
“Are you Margot Silva?” Chris asked, knowing she already knew who they were.
As recognition dawned, she looked panicked.
There was a look a hooker got when they were confronted. They either fought or ran. Most had built up an excellent sixth sense when it came to preservation on the streets.
“Uh, yes. Can I help you?”
Oh, was that the game they were playing? Okay, bring it. This wasn’t his first day.
“We’re here to talk to you about Misty. She worked for you.”
The instant look of recognition was there before she brushed it aside to hide what she knew.
“WHO?”
Dimitri had enough. There wasn’t enough time in the day to play these kinds of games. He was fed up with people lying their asses off in Vegas.
Without hesitating, he pulled his gun, backed her up, and had her join the woman in the living room of her ‘business’.
“I’m in a bad mood,” he said, letting his Russian accent out so they’d really understand who they were dealing with. “I’m in so bad of a mood, I’m willing to kill. Now, how about you stop bullshitting us, and just tell us? Then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Chris stared at him like he was insane.
“Smooth,” Chris said. “Your women skills blow. Here’s the proof.”
Oh, he was aware.
“Yes, but my killing and hiding the body skills are at the top of the game. Unluckily for them.”
Well, it appeared it was ‘good cop and bad cop’ time—the mobster edition.
Both women were cowering on the couch as they didn’t look away from Dimitri’s gun.
Apparently, they didn’t see this coming on their fine Tuesday morning.
“What happened to Misty?” Chris asked. “Don’t play the game. He’s not one to mess around.”
To prove it, he fired a shot into the couch from his silenced gun.
Both women jumped and then sobbed in fear as they clung to each other.
“I don’t know!” Margot insisted. “I sent her out on a date, and she never came back.”
“To who, and where?”
She shook.
“I don’t know.”
Dimitri growled.
“REALLY!”
Chris didn’t buy that. Alexsandra had overheard her, and she told them that her madam wasn’t sending him any more women.
Clearly, this wasn’t isolated.
Chris opted to play it another way.
“What DO you know?”
“He told me his name was Harold, and that’s it. He gave me the location, and I sent her there. He was a repeat customer. I didn’t question it. Misty normally picked up the money at the front desk.”
Well, that meant they were heading to a hotel. They had front desks, and that seemed likely for a call girl. If someone was holding money, maybe they were helping.
Oh, and might have seen something.
It looked like they needed that location next.
“Where?” Chris asked.
She rattled off the motel name.
It was a dive.
What made him curious is that this woman wasn’t telling them the same name that Alexsandra had overheard. Was she lying or just scared?
“Who else did Harold rent for a date?” Chris asked. Since, by her own admission, he wasn’t a first time John, they might be able to get some information from another girl.
Misty wouldn’t be able to describe him.
But…
“Candice French.”
“And anyone else?” Chris asked.
She shook her head emphatically.
“That’s it! It was just those two girls!”
Well, they needed her address now too. They’d run her, they’d see if she was part of this, or possibly another victim. Since Alexsandra had overheard her saying that he was cut off, that didn’t bode well for Candice.
This wasn’t Chris’s first day when it came to a John, a call girl, and a madam. Murder wasn’t that farfetched.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“I haven’t seen her in a while,” she blurted.
That wasn’t good.
Chris wondered if she’d own it or keep up this farce. She wasn’t stupid. These girls were expendable to her. She knew damn well what happened to her.
“Why?”
“She only works part-time. She’s a college kid. She usually works for book money. She picks up work when she needs it!”
He didn’t buy it, but he would investigate what she was saying. She didn’t doubt Margot was thinking what they were thinking.
He played her game.
“School is about to start. Wouldn’t she have worked for book money already?” he asked.
She nodded.
“You didn’t find that odd?”
She shrugged.
Yeah, that said it all. The woman didn’t give a shit. Chris almost wished Dimitri would shoot her in the lack of morals.
“Well, why didn’t you call the police if she just disappeared or started behaving differently?”
She stared at him like he was nuts.
“And tell them what? That one of my girls, who catered to the big spenders, was missing? Are you serious? Does that make any sense to you at all?”
Yeah, she had a point.
“What’s her address?”
She didn’t answer.
Oh, this was NOT the time to play dumb.
Dimitri moved the gun closer to her and fired again. The bullet hit the couch by her head.
She wept.
It seemed to do what they needed. It opened her eyes to sharing information. Without hesitating, she pointed at the desk.
On it, there was a Rolodex.
“Jesus. How very nineteen-nineties.”
Chris hadn’t seen one of those in a long time. As Dimitri kept her busy, he flipped through it and found Candice’s name. Then, Chris ripped out the card.
If for some reason, she was alive, which he hoped but didn’t believe, then she wouldn’t be calling her again.
Hopefully.
In irritation, he dumped the rest of the cards into a wastepaper can, picked up one card, and lit it on fire.
Then dropped it.
The papers in the can burst into flames.
“NO! My business!”
Chris laughed.
“Oh, well.”
Dimitri agreed.
“You’re out of it,” Dimitri stated. “If I hear you’re peddling flesh for rich assholes, you’ll be walking to your car one day, and you won’t even feel it.”
She shook.
“Get a real job,” he hissed.
Chris saluted her with the card, and they headed out. In the car, they could see the woman dumping water into the can. They watched her through the window.
“That was some nice acting on your behalf.”
“I wasn’t. If she starts back up, she’s dead,” he stated. “We just killed a sex ring. We don’t need another. For a madam who is working this low-key, she had a lot of names.”
He was aware.
“She lied her ass off to us. She knows this girl is dead. You weren’t there when Alexsandra told us about the conversation she overheard. Margot didn’t know she overheard.”
“Well, then she’ll get what she deserves.”
One thing was clear.
“You need to patch this up with Poppy. You’re a cranky-ass b
itch.”
He was aware.
It was on Dimitri’s list of things to do.
At some point.
“Where to? Do you want to hit the hooker or the hotel?” Dimitri stated, ignoring his comment.
Chris had a better idea.
“Why should we have all of the fun? How about we clear Misty and Alex’s apartment, and then head home? We know we aren’t going to find Misty at this address.”
“You think she’s in one of those bags?” he asked, and it only made him even crankier.
“Yeah, I do. I think we need to give this to the boss and see if maybe Greyson wants in on the action.”
That worked for him.
Dimitri knew he wasn’t focused.
At all.
He might need to tag out.
For a change.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Jeffrey Raye’s
Home
Tuesday Mid-Morning
He still hadn’t heard from Claude Black, and he knew there was no way it was taking this long to get the job done.
It wasn’t possible.
He was a trained killer, and this should be an easy job. Get in, kill the cunt, and get out.
That’s all.
Something was definitely wrong.
He knew it.
Instead of freaking out, he poured himself more coffee as he waited for his golf game in an hour. Heading toward his living area, he plopped down on the white couch to chill in the silence of his luxurious home. There, he turned on the TV.
Jeffrey nearly had a heart attack.
There, on the screen, larger than life, was Greyson Croft.
ON.
THE.
NEWS.
Worse? Like it could get any worse than this? He was heading into the FBI building, and not in handcuffs. He was smiling that irritatingly pleasant smile of his.
He was up to something.
Oh, shit!
Jeffrey watched, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He tried to see if there was a way for him to figure out if it was a good visit or an interview.
So, as he had no choice but to gawk at his unencumbered nemesis, he loathed that he walked right in the door, up to a woman, and got a HUG in greeting.
WHAT?
THE?
FRESH HELL?
He couldn’t believe his eyes. They were welcoming public enemy number one with open arms. What had happened in the city he loved?
He’d been out of the game for three months, and Greyson Croft had bought his way into the FBI’s good graces.
Then it got worse.
The reporter was saying there was a truce.
Oh, Jesus.
That didn’t bode well.
At all.
What had gone so wrong that the new cops, his replacement, would accept that scumbag in their ranks? Jeffrey was pretty sure he’d guaranteed that Vegas was broken and a hot mess.
The cops hated the Crofts.
The Crofts hated the Feds.
It had been war.
He’d stirred it up so much that there was no way to unmuddy the water without there being total chaos.
And yet…here it was.
Great.
How could his freaking day get any worse?
As he flipped the channels, unwilling to watch them talk about his nemesis, he found the weather channel. What could upset him there?
He needed to calm down.
They were talking about a fire on the mountain. Okay, forest fires he could do. It was harmless and didn’t affect him in the least.
UNTIL he saw the location.
It was the mountain that Poppy Wayne had hidden on, and that had cost him a small fortune in bribes to the car company she rented from to track her.
JESUS.
Then they were talking about a cabin that had been the epicenter of the spread of the wildfire, and another fire at the base.
In the cabin?
Two male bodies had been found.
When they gave the location, he nearly shit himself. Instead, he accidentally spilled his coffee all over the couch.
HOLY FUCK!
That’s where he’d sent Claude Black to take care of the ex-detective and her meddling mess.
Was the universe screwing with him?
How did a broken Poppy Wayne get past a hired hitman, his helper, and three miles of trees without dying?
Was she in the wind?
He flipped back to the last channel.
CROFT.
Oh, he knew the man had something to do with it, and it was likely why he was smiling. He didn’t doubt that right now, he had his dirty Russian killer keeping Poppy Wayne hidden.
Well, he had news for him.
It wouldn’t work.
She knew he’d had that file on her mother. She was the ONLY witness left.
Well, one of two.
Now he’d handle this with her.
It looked like he was going to take a walk on the criminal side. The underground would solve his issues.
One bullet at a time.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Sky Villa
Penthouse
When Riley showed up, he was bringing gifts. Not only was Delilah, his wife, in tow, but he had a prettily wrapped box and files in his possession.
The file would help with the case and the box?
In it, there were a few little treats for the ladies to enjoy while they worked.
While the men were out doing their thing, the ladies would do theirs.
Basically, save the men’s asses with research. Riley knew how the Devil was in the details, and these ladies were likely going to be helping solve his Jane Doe cases.
In the living room, Delilah gave Emma a kiss, and Riley followed suit in greeting.
“Momma, you’re ready to pop.”
Oh, she was aware, and honestly, Emma couldn’t wait until it was over.
As soon as she saw the box, she smiled.
“Are those for me?” she asked.
“Who else?” Riley asked, offering the box up. He knew that as of late, Emma had a sweet tooth. He didn’t doubt that when his wife was pregnant, someone in the Croft family would make sure she got what she wanted too.
Family was an awesome thing.
When he noticed Poppy on the couch, he was genuinely happy to see her. Riley may have been away on his honeymoon when the shit went down, but the Crofts had cued them in when they came back.
His heart broke for his fellow cop.
“Hey! How are you doing?” he asked, knowing it couldn’t be good. Riley could see that she’d lost weight, and looked like hell. Now he was definitely glad he’d brought sweets.
Poppy needed to eat the whole box.
“I’m alive.”
Yeah, for now.
“Well, I’m glad for that,” Riley offered. Since he didn’t know how much she wanted to talk about what had happened, he focused on his other gift, handing them over to Emma.
“Here are those files. I know I don’t have to say anything about where you got them…,” he hinted.
Oh, they got it.
This was on the DL.
“My lips are sealed, Riley,” Emma offered.
Poppy had a better idea.
“I’ll cover for you,” Poppy stated. “If it gets out, I’ll say they were my copies. Then you’re golden.”
He appreciated it.
“Delilah, have a seat. Want to help us dig around?” Emma asked.
She opened the box for her.
“Dessert first?” Delilah asked, holding the box in her hands and winking at the pregnant woman.
Oh, that sounded amazing. So much so that Emma giggled in glee.
She couldn’t help it.
She had a secret.
For the last two months, Mac craved sugar. So, she’d been giving it to him. That was probably why he was so damn big. What Greyson didn’t know was she was breaking her carb rule
because she couldn’t help herself.
What baby wants.
Baby gets.
If there was an affair going on in her life, it was with sweets. Here was who she was cheating on him with, and she should be ashamed.
She just wasn’t.
Carrying and growing a child was damn hard work.
Delilah pulled the biggest, fluffiest cupcake out, and on it, there were sprinkles and a strawberry. She offered it up to the pregnant woman first and foremost.
She was a party of two and got first desserts.
“Oh, I needed this.”
“Until the hubby finds out,” Delilah stated. She’d been her sugar supplier. She’d get yelled at for sure. Greyson would shit a ton of bricks.
“I know, but this cupcake though,” she said, as she lovingly held it in her hands.
Riley laughed as the ladies partook. He only hoped his wife would be big and wobbly with a child soon. If hanging with Emma got any pregnancy juju on her, more power to the universe.
Focusing on Poppy, he was curious and couldn’t help himself. Cops were a question-y bunch.
“When are you coming back?”
She hesitated, glancing over at Emma.
“Come on, Poppy! You have to come back. You were one of the good ones. We have to fight the good fight.”
She was aware.
Emma stepped in.
“Right now, she’s got a hit out on her, but once it’s done, I’m going to have our super attorney tear into the cops to get her back on the force.”
Delilah growled.
“Jeffrey Raye, that little scum-sucking weasel. May he rot in a shallow grave with his body riddled with maggots.”
All three women toasted that with their fluffy cupcakes, and then took bites.
Riley laughed.
A woman scorned…
Three women?
This was a revenge seeking coven of anger.
“Do you think I can really go back?” Poppy asked, directing it at Delilah.
She laughed.
“Oh, I’ll get your name on a building if that’s what you want,” she offered. “When I’m finished with them, they’ll owe you more back pay than any other cop. Plus, if we can prove that Jeffrey Raye pointed that criminal at you, then we’ll be able to have the civil suit of the century.”
No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book Page 28
