No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

by Morgan Kelley

  He knew that they’d used some device, and the cops couldn’t help him.

  Not that they would.

  He’d been called trouble, even after resigning. The new police were straight arrows, and the commissioner wouldn’t help him if his life depended on it. Still, he needed to find out what Greyson had said to them.

  Shit.

  He knew what he’d say if he was in his place. He would have made up a countless string of bullshit to get rid of his enemy.

  Jeffrey was screwed.

  Lipton couldn’t save him either.

  He was about to get his ass handed to him by Greyson Croft if he didn’t save his own bacon.

  Only, he didn’t know what to do.

  Running around the house in his piss-stained pajamas, he tore each room apart looking for what they planted.

  There was no doubt in his mind that they’d do what they said.

  Then…

  He was going to jail.

  And that wouldn’t work for him.

  At all.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Sky Villa

  Wednesday

  Morning

  When they dropped Chris off to resume wife-sitting duties, Emma and Poppy had another visitor. Other than Heath, it was like a repeat of the previous day.

  Delilah was there.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Grey,” she stated. “Riley dropped me off before he headed in. He had a case.”

  Greyson looked around for the baked goods.

  He didn’t see hide nor hair of them. If he found them, he was claiming them for the menfolk.

  They deserved some sweetness, too, and if it was good for the gander, it sure as hell was good for the goose.

  Only, it looked like his wife had wised up. He didn’t doubt they’d be arriving later—especially since he had forgotten to pick anything up for her.

  Damn!

  “It’s okay, Delilah. Chris is tagging in, so Heath, if you’d like to join…”

  “YES!” he blurted out like some kind of lunatic before Greyson even finished his sentence. In fact, he was out of his seat so fast, and at their sides that it was kind of comical. The big guy was smiling like a nut.

  They all stared at him.

  “Are you insane?” Greyson asked.

  Chris simply laughed.

  “No comment.”

  The big man didn’t care if they busted his ass. He was in a damn good mood.

  How could he not be?

  “I mean, no, Mr. C. I’m just ready to work.”

  They all knew why he was so excited to go out, and it had nothing to do with not wanting to hang out with Emma. Heath didn’t mind being around her at all.

  Only…

  Nikita.

  “Okay, gear up, and you two teenagers have matching hickies. If you try to make out, Dimitri will shoot you on my orders. Clear?”

  Nikita winked at him.

  “After seven rounds, I think he’s good. I can keep my hormones at an even keel.”

  All the women looked at Heath.

  “SEVEN?” Emma and Poppy asked at the same time.

  The man blushed when Delilah actually gave him a standing ovation and clapped.

  “I was off my game. I’m better than that.”

  Greyson pointed at his wife.

  “Don’t do it,” he warned. “I don’t want details. I’m stuck with both of them. I will get bitchy.”

  She laughed her ass off.

  It was true.

  Greyson became uncomfortable if there was sex talk going on and it wasn’t between him and her.

  “GO!” Greyson said, to get the man hustling. The last thing he needed was a commentary on the man’s sex life. The women would be cackling, and he didn’t want to think about Heath bumping and grinding with ANYONE.

  All three women watched him leave with big ass smiles on their faces.

  “One age comment, and I’m going to go from bitchy right to angry,” Greyson stated.

  Emma closed her mouth.

  “Good idea. Now, did you find anything that can be useful to us?”

  She sent him a text.

  His phone chimed.

  “We found Candice French. It wasn’t easy with all of the schools in this area. I managed to find her. Good news or bad news?”

  Jesus.

  He hated this game.

  “Good.”

  “She is, indeed, a college student.”

  “Bad?”

  “This is only her second year of school, and on her driver’s license,” she said, pointing at the one on the screen, “it said she just turned eighteen four weeks ago.”

  And there it was.

  “She was underage.”

  “Yes, so if you can tie her to Zachary Lipton, you have him on child sex crimes too. Plus, then you can get the madam and take her down on child sex trafficking.”

  That was good for them, and bad for the dead woman.

  Delilah chimed in.

  “Uh, Riley had news for you too. He would have delivered it himself, but he’s tied up with a case.”

  He waited.

  “He told me to tell you that his ME confirmed the ID you guys needed. He said you’d know who he was talking about.”

  He did.

  The body in the one bag was now going to have a proper burial. Candice French wouldn’t be buried in a pauper’s grave.

  At least there was that.

  Greyson had to take a win when he could. For now, he had to get to that school.

  “Well, that’s where we’ll head. She may be gone, but college girls talk,” he stated.

  “And you know this how?” his wife asked, busting his ass.

  “Uh, I’m guessing?”

  She stared at him.

  “Because all women gossip like a yard full of hens pecking at bugs, okay?”

  She snorted.

  “Give me a kiss, Mr. Croft.”

  He leaned down and did just that.

  “Chris, you’re in charge of the womenfolk. Separate them if they’re bad.”

  Dimitri gave Poppy a sweet and tender kiss on the top of the head.

  “See you later, babochka.”

  She smiled up at him.

  “You know where to find me.”

  Yeah, he did. Gone was that fear that she’d run. He knew she’d be in this building, helping the team. That made him want to get resolution so she could go back to her job.

  And they could have the life they deserved.

  Together, half of the team headed out.

  When they heard the door close, Emma was all smiles knowing that the chickens were definitely going to be pecking at some juicy gossip bugs.

  It took two seconds.

  “So, do you think he really went seven rounds?” Delilah asked, needing to know. “If yes, I need to start feeding Riley whatever he’s eating.”

  Chris was horrified.

  “Uh, there’s a guy standing right here. A guy who is friends with the two men you’re talking about, and I don’t really want to be thinking about them having sex.”

  They ignored that.

  “Can you go seven rounds?” Emma asked. “Greyson can handle two or three, but seven?”

  “Riley once did four, and he was tired for a week,” she teased.

  “Well, Dimitri and I haven’t been together long, so I can’t answer that. We managed three times in one night, but that’s all I have for now.”

  Chris was horrified.

  “Jesus. Now I know way too much about most of the people in this family. You’re all nymphos.”

  Then it hit him.

  “Someone find me one.”

  “Just tell us how much you and Natasha did it.”

  “I’m not answering that.”

  “You have to,” Emma stated. “You’re my best friend, and a man. I need to know.”

  He gave up.

  If he didn’t, they’d keep at it.

  “Maybe twice a night, and as fo
r seven…not even in high school,” he stated, taking a seat. “Satisfied?”

  Poppy stared at her watch.

  “What are you doing?” Chris asked.

  “Dimitri gave me this watch. He said it links to his. I can tell where he is,” she stated, showing him.

  He was aware.

  Chris had one too. As did Kat. His teams all had one so they could stay in communication in case something went down.

  “I know what it is, I’m asking why you are staring at it.”

  She held up a finger.

  “They just left the garage. He’s really gone,” Poppy said. “Break-out the contraband.”

  Chris lifted a brow.

  What the hell was this?

  Delilah dropped to her knees and pulled the box of cupcakes from beneath the couch.

  Chris shook his head and laughed. The things you learned when hanging out with the women.

  It was funny as hell.

  Emma got into the box and offered the chocolate one with the raspberries all over it to him.

  “Uh, this reeks of sugar and bribery.”

  She smiled sweetly at him as she rubbed her hand her over baby belly.

  “Did it work?”

  Yes, yes, it did.

  Chris was a sucker for two things.

  Food and Emma.

  “Carry on, hens. Ignore me.”

  And they did.

  Much to his amusement.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  UNLV

  Campus

  Wednesday

  Ten A.M.

  They hit there first, just because they knew that the dorms were likely not filled up yet, but there would be some kids milling around.

  Hopefully, someone could answer their questions about the deceased call girl found in the bag.

  When they got to the dorm that Candice French had resided in, after they greased security’s palm and was told what floor she was on last year, they had a good lead as to who might be able to help them.

  Since she was on the roster to have a room, clearly, she’d paid her tuition in advance, and had every intention of returning to school.

  It was sad.

  The kid had been trying.

  There was no judgment for her choices, only sympathy that she’d been caught up in the mess.

  Outside the main floor door, they found a resident assistant decorating the hall for the incoming students. The second she saw them, she looked worried.

  “Uh, you can’t be here. This is a girl’s dorm floor.”

  Yeah, he was aware, but some things superseded others. This was one of those moments.

  “I have some questions.”

  She looked alarmed. It was clear she was well aware of who he was. That might work to his advantage. Greyson would take what he could get at this point.

  “How much is your tuition?”

  It seemed like an odd question, but the woman didn’t see any harm pointing out something that he could find online.

  So, she told him.

  Greyson sweetened the pot.

  “I’ll pay it in full this semester if you answer some questions for me,” he stated.

  That caught her off guard.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, there was no way she was not going to take that offer. College was pricey, and she liked the idea of one less loan.

  “Okay, come into my room. You can’t be here, and that’s not my rule. That’s the schools.”

  They went into the crowded space, but it was cutely decorated.

  “Let’s stop the game. You know who I am. You are?”

  “I’m Harley Fox,” she offered.

  “Harley, we have questions about Candice French. What can you tell me about her?”

  She thought about it.

  “That she is in her second year, and that she’s residing two doors down. She should be here sometime next week.”

  Yeah, not quite.

  Candice was definitely not going to be back for another year.

  “What was her major?”

  “Business.”

  That was ironic.

  The ‘business’ was what got her killed.

  “Did she mention how she paid for school?” he asked.

  Again, Harley contemplated it.

  “No, but during the year, mostly toward the end of the semester, she’d get all dolled up, put on these insane shoes, and head out for a date.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “A Lincoln would pick her up.”

  Okay, that gave them something.

  “Did you get a plate number?”

  She stared at him like he was insane.

  “Uh, maybe the first letter. It was an A. That’s all I noticed. I wasn’t spying on her. I just happened to see it.”

  That still helped.

  Possibly.

  “How long was this going on?” Greyson asked.

  “It was off and on the whole year. It wasn’t weekly. It was random.”

  “You took notice?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m the RA. These girls are my responsibility. Last year, Molly got so drunk she busted her teeth out when she was in the bathroom.”

  That was great, except he didn’t care about Molly.

  He cared about Candice.

  “Walk me through a night that Candice would go out?”

  “She got into the Lincoln, and then left. When she got back, I questioned her about it. She smelled like cheap cologne and smoke. She said it was her sugar daddy.”

  Yeah, and likely her killer.

  “How many times did the Lincoln come through that year?”

  “Five, maybe six times.”

  That perplexed him.

  He shook her hand.

  “Give him your bank account information,” Greyson said, pointing at Dimitri.

  She did.

  Dimitri entered the amount and pushed send.

  He phone dinged.

  “Holy shit! You weren’t kidding!”

  No, no, he was not.

  “Good luck this year, Harley,” he said, not telling her that Candice was found dead in a duffle bag, and that she was NOT coming back to work on that degree.

  Outside, Greyson and Dimitri met up with their security people, who were sitting on a ledge.

  They didn’t blend in at all.

  Why?

  Boys were whistling at Nikita, and Heath was scowling and threatening to disembowel them with his bare hands. Yeah, someone had a jealous streak.

  “Let’s go.”

  They headed back to their ride, saying nothing until they arrived at the SUV.

  “You look perplexed,” Nikita stated.

  He was.

  Greyson told them the entire thing. Maybe they might understand what he didn’t. One detail was tripping him up.

  “She was picking up the cash at the hotel, but getting picked up here by her sugar daddy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Dimitri didn’t have any idea.

  This wasn’t his thing.

  He killed.

  He didn’t sleuth.

  Ever.

  Nikita thought about it.

  “Maybe she was hooking for someone else,” she stated. “What if her madam wasn’t giving her the business she needed to pay the bills? A girl has to work.”

  Heath looked up in the rearview mirror.

  “Everyone has to work,” he stated.

  Yeah, Greyson was aware, but that one thing was bothering the hell out of him.

  Why?

  He couldn’t answer that…yet.

  “We may need to revisit the madam’s place,” he stated. “Something doesn’t feel right with all of this.”

  No one complained.

  Heath was happily following the boss around with Nikita. She was doing her protection thing, and Dimitri was in a good mood.

  To the team, they were fine with whatever Greyson wanted them to do.
/>
  “Maybe you need to disconnect. I know a place,” Dimitri offered.

  “Where?”

  “Neptune.”

  Yeah, the club that the proprietor of the no-tell motel gave them. That worked for him.

  “I could use a cigar.”

  Dimitri was good with that.

  It meant Greyson needed to think things out. What better place than somewhere quiet and private.

  “Heath, get us to Neptune.”

  The man did.

  And he stepped on it.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Jeffrey Raye’s

  Home

  Wednesday Mid-Morning

  He couldn’t find anything that might get him arrested. The only thing he’d found was that he was able to wreck his home in a couple of hours.

  It was destroyed.

  His home was in shambles.

  He didn’t know what to do about what they’d said was hidden. Was it a lie?

  Was it bullshit?

  He wasn’t sure.

  So, to calm down, he took a bottle of Jack into the shower, turned on the water to cleanup, and chugged the drink. What he needed to do was calm down, breathe, and try to think logically.

  Croft had to be messing with him.

  It was the only possible thing that could be going on.

  There were no drugs.

  There were no papers.

  He wanted him running around like a chicken with his head cut off, worrying about hiring Claude Black.

  Well, he was done being afraid.

  Now he was pissed.

  That meant only one thing.

  Greyson Croft was going to feel his wrath. Yeah, he was going to fuck that man up.

  He came into his house and terrorized him.

  Well, payback was a bitch.

  It was time to return the favor.

  It was time to pay his home a visit.

  With some friends—angry ones.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Neptune

  Wednesday

  Well, there was one thing for damn sure. Dimitri’s place was something.