No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

by Morgan Kelley

  He stopped him.

  “Pardon?” he asked. “You were talking to mermaids?” he asked, just as the woman put their lunch down in front of them.

  She stared at him like he was…loco.

  They waited for her to finish unloading their tacos from a tray. When she was done and gone, they went back to talking about business.

  They didn’t need anyone overhearing them.

  “Again, mermaids?” Riley asked as he began eating a taco. Someone needed to explain that one. Riley couldn’t even guess what it was about.

  Dimitri told him about his club.

  When he was done, Riley only had one thing to say.

  “You are an interesting man.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” he stated, as he began eating too. “I’m also a pissed off man. I suspect that Lipton was digging around in my business. Literally, and now his guy turns up dead while we’re investigating him.”

  He got it.

  This had just gotten messy—as in it looked like someone was trying to frame him.

  “My concern is,” Greyson began, “that Zachary Lipton knows I’m the competition. We’re both heavy hitters, and he might be trying to take me down by way of my family,” he said, pointing at Dimitri.

  Everyone knew that Dimitri Gideon had gone from being a lone wolf to traveling in a pack. Dimitri was one of them. If they took him down, they took Greyson down.

  “I need more than suspicion,” he stated.

  “Riley, something is up. Things aren’t adding up. I know I don’t investigate a lot, and that I have a ton on my plate with my life, but I do know that two plus two always equals four. You know when you’re working a case that things fall into place.”

  He was aware.

  “Things aren’t. I feel like I’m being led around by my nose. Something is all kinds of jacked up.”

  He understood what they were saying.

  He was having that kind of day too.

  “So, can you call in a body and get us that autopsy report ASAP? I know you are bogged down, but I feel like if I stop investigating, bad shit is coming.”

  Yeah, ASAP wasn’t going to happen.

  “That brings me to why I needed to talk to you,” Riley stated. “We had another bag turn up, dumped in the middle of a busy street.”

  “Another woman?”

  “Yeah, but this time, our killer missed a tattoo.”

  That didn’t sound right.

  If the killer was going out of his way to bag all of the bodies, strip them of their ID’s and hide them, why would he do that? That was sloppy.

  Yeah, something was off.

  “Well, it gets weirder.”

  How could anything about this case get weirder?

  “So, back to how we ID’d her. Here I am, staring down at the body, and my ME tells me our killer missed a tongue tattoo, and we are able to give her a name.”

  “Who is she? Is she Misty Rose by any chance?” he asked.

  Riley shook his head.

  “Well, here’s the weird part. The tattoo comes back to a woman by the name of Susie Clark. She went missing eighteen months ago, and this body has been frozen.”

  “Okay, so we know the killer has been doing this a while. Wasn’t the other body we haven’t ID’d been dead for a while?” he asked.

  “We thought so, but here’s the weird part. Yes, the decomp on the unidentified body is advanced, but what if we are being screwed with?”

  “What do you mean?” Greyson asked.

  He told him about the tongue.

  “Victim one, or who we thought was victim one, had no tongue.”

  “Okay.”

  “Victim three’s tongue was removable.”

  “Pardon?” he asked, his taco halfway to his mouth.

  “The killer froze this body, trying to make us think it was Susie Clark when it’s not. The tongue didn’t fit. I think our last victim is really our last victim. I think we found Misty Rose, and our first victim was actually Susie Clark.”

  This was chaos.

  “So the killer kills three women, and then fucks with the TOD to do what?” Dimitri asked. “I don’t get any of this.”

  Greyson explained.

  “It makes it almost impossible, other than with a missing person report to tell when the woman was killed. If he’s freezing bodies, he’s destroying TOD. We can’t tell how long she’s been dead or frozen.”

  Riley nodded.

  “But why? What is this killer up to that he feels the need to play this tongue switcheroo?”

  They didn’t know.

  “Jesus. Why does it have to be so hard?” Dimitri asked. “That’s why I just slit their damn…”

  Greyson kicked him under the table.

  “We get it. You’re badass.”

  “Here is Susie Clark,” he stated, showing them her driver’s license picture. “The killer wanted her found. She didn’t crawl out of the deep freeze.”

  Okay, so this made it much harder.

  Someone was targeting Dimitri’s business, they had women turning up dead and mixed up, and Claude Black had been called out on Poppy.

  What did it all mean?

  Shit.

  Greyson had no freaking clue.

  What he needed was to take this information to his wife. She’d played homicide cop and Chris had been the captain. They dealt with killers more than he’d done. Most of his last five years were training and riding a desk.

  Celestia was his last ‘in the field’ case where he was trying to catch a serial killer on his own.

  It had been a while.

  “Well, we’ll need her autopsy information too. Can you get a push on it? Or do I need to help it along?” Greyson asked.

  Riley wanted to play ball with them on this.

  He really did.

  Only LVPD time and Greyson Croft time didn’t move at the same pace. He had to deal with an ME who rolled a totally different way.

  Yeah, that meant one thing.

  “You’re going to have to pull some strings on the girl in the bag. As for Harold Cline, I’m not going there to find his body.”

  That surprised them.

  “What do you mean?” Greyson stated. “You’re a cop, we’ve reported a murder, and that’s kind of your job.”

  Yeah, but in this case?

  He broke it down.

  “If he worked at night, his boss is going to know he’s missing. Let’s see what he does. Let’s see if he calls it in. If not…?”

  Riley had a point.

  They got it.

  “He may have killed him,” Greyson offered. “That’s a good plan. If he doesn’t call the police, he very well may have left the man for dead. He’d already know where he is.”

  That was one way that the cops caught people. While the person who found the body was a suspect, the person who ignored that there was a body was one too.

  It went both ways.

  This was exactly why Greyson wanted to hand over the information to his wife. Homicide cops thought differently than Feds.

  “As for the body in the bag, you’re going to have to grease the wheel on your end. If you have any favors, now is the time to pull them out.”

  Greyson thought about it.

  What could he offer up that might work to their advantage? Should he call Aria and ask her to put the pressure on?

  Well, it looked like that was the best option.

  Greyson could bribe an ME, but then he was a city official. That could blowup in his face. The law was a fine line, and they already danced all over it.

  Pulling out his phone, he found the new director’s number. She’d given it to him when they had their last meeting.

  She said to call her if he needed her.

  Well…

  This was one of those moments.

  They couldn't get caught up in this. The commissioner and homicide captain might know they were helping cleanup the city, but everyone else had to stay in the dark.

  Wh
en she answered, it was her private line.

  “What’s up, Greyson?” she asked, recognizing the number when he called.

  “I need your help.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “What?” he asked, confused why she’d gone there with that. It was like she was expecting him.

  “Ethan and I had a bet. He said four days. I said a week before you reached out. I owe him dinner next time he’s in town.”

  He laughed.

  “Seriously? Betting against me, Aria? Is that how I taught you to roll?”

  “I know, Greyson. I lost my mind there for a second. I know you’re busy, so this isn’t going to be a social call. What’s up?”

  “I need you to call the city ME, or the new commissioner, and get an autopsy done ASAP. It’s part of a case I’m working.”

  He heard drawers opening and closing.

  “Which one?”

  “It’s the lovely ladies in the bags. I think it’s the heavy hitter, Zachary Lipton cleaning up his hookers. He was having his thug, Claude Black, cleanup after him.”

  She made notes.

  “How do you know it’s him?”

  It was time to trust the woman he’d worked with before turning in his badge. Greyson trusted Aria.

  Now he had no choice.

  “Claude Black came for someone in my family. Know that wildfire on the mountain?”

  “Yes.”

  “He was in it. The bodies range from eighteen months ago to weeks. I need to get the results so I can prove Lipton picked up these girls, and then had his right-hand goon handle her. That’s Claude’s MO.”

  She got it.

  “He’s trying to hide when they died. I need this pushed through, Aria. I don’t have time. My gut says something is up.”

  That was good enough for her.

  Aria recalled his gut, and how Greyson Croft had used it to do his job.

  She’d go to bat for him.

  “Can you hang loose for ten? I’ll make the call and call you right back, okay?”

  That would be perfect.

  “Aria, I owe you one.”

  “Forget it, Greyson. You always gave me the benefit of the doubt when I was working under you. I’m going to play fair with you. I know how you run your shop. If you say you need this autopsy, I’ll get it. It’s not like you’re killing them. You’re trying to save them.”

  He was.

  Desperately.

  “I’ll call you back, Greyson.”

  She hung up.

  “Well?”

  “We wait.”

  They continued eating their tacos, and the whole time, Greyson kept glancing over at his phone.

  He was worried.

  Honestly, he wished they didn’t kill Claude Black. They could have taken him, and possibly found out what the hell was going on. Maybe, for money, he would have rolled on Lipton.

  Now, they’d never know.

  All they did know was he was the only connection to the bodies in the bags. He was the ONLY one who knew who killed them. Since he was a hired thug, he didn’t think he was the murderer. He knew better.

  Cleanup guys did one job.

  Killers…they did a whole different one.

  As he continued eating, he worked on it in his head. There was something warning him that it wasn’t right.

  The women from Neptune hadn’t gone missing. Why had Zachary Lipton gone there, hit on them, used them, and not killed them?

  Was it too close to the fire?

  Why the secrecy at the motel?

  Who killed Candice French? Was it Lipton or was it someone else who picked her up at the university too?

  There were too many questions and not enough answers.

  WHY?

  What was going on that this didn’t add up?

  The women at the motel had gone missing, and likely were dead, but not the others. If they were trying to take Dimitri down, why wouldn’t they point the cops right at them?

  They had the earliest taken woman eighteen months ago, and then one two weeks ago.

  That was a long gap with only one woman in between. Why?

  Greyson didn’t know what he was missing, but he knew he was missing something. Zachary likely got rough, the women died. He panicked, and he called Claude Black, his hired gun. The man stripped them down, packed them up, and then…

  Froze them?

  Why?

  Why were two switched?

  All he knew was something was being hidden, and they didn’t quite get there yet. Greyson knew they’d skipped over something, and that meant going back and reworking it all.

  Most recently, Claude goes after Poppy.

  They kill Claude.

  They target Lipton.

  Lipton was already targeting Dimitri.

  Why?

  Was it to take him down? Was it to make sure that Greyson didn’t stop his businesses in Vegas?

  He wasn’t sure.

  Christ!

  He had a headache.

  WHAT?

  THE?

  HELL?

  When his phone rang, Greyson checked the caller ID, and true to Aria’s word it had only been ten minutes.

  “Croft.”

  “You can tell your detective that his autopsy has been cleared, and she will be ready in two hours. The commissioner is going to push it through, but now he’s suspicious. I couldn’t give him much, and you don’t have much time, Greyson. My suggestion is to get this handled. Cops are nosey. They dig when they suspect something. Your buddy there is going to be getting a call from his boss. He’s going to be working late.”

  Oh, he was aware.

  “Aria, thank you.”

  Then it hit him.

  He’d never told her that Riley was having lunch with him, or that they were in communication.

  “Uh, how do you know Detective Henderson is right here?” he asked, looking around for any sign that she was watching him.

  Aria laughed.

  “For the record, Greyson, I like tacos.”

  The line went dead.

  Greyson was suspicious.

  He turned, pointing at Nikita.

  “Are you reporting in behind my back?” he asked, getting angry with her. Someone had to be monitoring them, but who?

  “WHAT?” she asked, getting defensive. “I’m sitting here eating tacos. How the hell am I reporting in to anyone?” she asked. “My phone is in the car, and I’m not dialing anyone.”

  Heath didn’t like how this was sounding.

  “Mr. C, she wouldn’t play us like that, would you, Nikita?”

  She actually looked hurt that he would even ask her that. She expected the ex-Fed to be suspicious of her, but not Heath. That wounded her.

  “No, I wouldn’t. You asked me to work for you. You offered to hire me. That’s where my allegiance would be—to my boss, but I can see it’s one-sided.”

  She stood.

  “I’ll go wait in the car—since you think I’m going to eavesdrop and report in,” she said.

  She left her food.

  Heath stared at him and opened his mouth.

  “Don’t,” Greyson stated. “I had to ask. She was the last one on the team, and she was sent here by the Feds. We have eyes on us, and I need to find out where. Aria Goodwin knew Riley was right here, and we are having tacos for lunch.”

  He got up.

  “You know what, Mr. C? You’re becoming paranoid. We’re outside, and there’s a camera a block away at the intersection. She’s likely linked into it. You should think before you accuse.”

  Greyson glanced over.

  Well, hell.

  There was a camera.

  “I’ll go scan the ride to cover our bases. You owe her an apology. Nikita is trying to fit in, and you haven’t made it easy for her,” he said, glaring at him and Dimitri. “Maybe you should cut her a break and try to get to know her.”

  He was right.

  Greyson didn’t like covert shit like this. He waited, and a
few minutes went by. When Heath came back, he shook his head.

  “We’re clean. I checked her too. She’s clean. It wasn’t us, boss.”

  Greyson couldn’t deal with this now.

  He had other issues.

  “Let’s continue this later at Sky Villa,” he stated. “I don’t want to screw around.”

  Riley got it.

  Everyone was testy. Well, at least they didn’t accuse him of being a rat. There was that. It was nice not being the last person invited into the family. They trusted him, and that made him want to work harder for them.

  “I’ll talk to the captain and get you what you need,” he offered.

  That worked for them.

  They needed something.

  At this point, Greyson would take anything.

  At the car, Greyson found Nikita leaning against it blowing bubbles. Her dark red and black hair was moving in the invisible breeze as she watched them from behind mirrored shades.

  The tension in her body said it all.

  She wasn’t happy.

  “Let’s head to the country club. We’re going to have a talk with Zachary Lipton. He golfs there daily.”

  Yes, he’d had Chris track his financials through the FBI equipment, and his social media. They knew where he liked to hang out.

  In the vehicle, Nikita started the motor but still said nothing to them. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

  Greyson knew it was time to eat crow.

  “I’m sorry that I accused you of betraying us.”

  She didn’t look at him.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “You Americans always blame the Russians.”

  Dimitri laughed.

  “Uh, I’m Russian and thought the same thing that he did,” Dimitri stated, covering for his friend. “Or have you missed the accent?”

  “I missed nothing.”

  Clearly.

  “I mean it,” Greyson offered. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I had to check all of the potential…”

  She held up her hand.

  “I think I’ll pass on that job offer from you. I don’t think I want to work for you. When this is done, I’m going to have Blackhawk to pull me. I’m out of here.”

  Well, hell.

  Heath actually turned around and stared at him. The look on his face said it all. He was not happy.