No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

by Morgan Kelley

“Fine.”

  “I’m sorry, Riley, but we all know who you’re loyal to, and it’s not LVPD. You have ties to the Crofts. Your wife is practically one of them.”

  Yeah, and he was damn good with that too. Why wouldn’t he be? They were at least loyal. He could trust Greyson to save his ass.

  He couldn’t trust Virgil.

  “You think lurking around and spying is the way to do it?” he asked him.

  “Well, you’re up to your eyeballs in something. You don’t meet with the Crofts unless you’re taking it in the ass from him. You’re dirty, Riley. You shouldn’t have been allowed back.”

  That pissed him off.

  Before he could say anything, his partner continued, letting him really know how he felt.

  “They are a blight on the city. They need to go. We all know it’s a front. You’re going to find yourself in a world of hurt if you play with the Crofts. They are the epitome of bad.”

  He disagreed.

  This kind of an asshole was.

  “I’m going to get a new partner, Riley, and I’m going to prove that the whole family is crooked. We’re done.”

  He didn’t mince his words.

  It was clear what he was planning to do. Despite the FBI telling the commissioner it was hands-off, that wasn’t the case.

  Riley watched his partner leave, and he pulled out his phone. He sent Emma a text.

  They needed to run someone else. He’d do it, but that was a little too close to the fire. There was a cop snooping around, following him, and likely listening to his conversations.

  Virgil had heard him talk to Delilah about the Crofts.

  He’d followed him and reported him to the someone at the police who likely reported him to the FBI.

  The walls had eyes and ears.

  And they were pointed at them.

  Of course this wouldn’t get easier.

  It was Vegas.

  And now, Riley Henderson was partner-less and on his own.

  Again.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Sky Villa

  Wednesday Later

  Afternoon

  When Curtis got the call, he’d been helping Dante with some of the business aspects of their life. As of the last three months, other than when he’d scrambled Sky Villa’s cameras, Greyson hadn’t needed his tech expertise.

  They’d been stagnant.

  They’d not been working.

  Now, he’d been summoned back to the penthouse, and he was more than happy to do it.

  Greyson had been making him help Dante because he wanted him to learn the business.

  Oh, he understood why.

  Curtis didn’t have a knack for it.

  Dante could make magic out of feathers and glitter. He’d made almost double their money in the eighteen months they’d been in control of Randall Mason’s enterprises.

  Well, it was time to get back to his real job.

  Techy tech.

  Inside, he found Emma lounging on the couch. She had her feet up, Chris was making her tea, and Poppy and Delilah weren’t there.

  “Where are the other hens?”

  “Swimming,” she offered. “I needed some help.”

  “With what? Your ankles are a hot mess. When are you going to have that baby?”

  It was funny he should ask.

  She was beginning to think her water was leaking. She wasn’t sure.

  “Soon, I’m sure.”

  If she said anything to him, he’d say something to Greyson, and it would be pandemonium. The man was dying for this baby to be born.

  “What do you need help with?” he asked.

  “I need a dark web search.”

  “For?”

  “Someone who has come onto the scene recently.”

  “As a hit guy?” he asked.

  “No, as someone hiring big guns. Hear me out. Greyson is chasing the person he thinks hired Claude Black, but I want to work this in reverse. We can’t ask Claude questions, so let’s see what’s happening in the underground that might be stirring the bad guys up.”

  That was a good idea.

  “Mom, while you’re growing a baby, your brain is still rockin’.”

  She laughed.

  “Thanks. Riley sent me his partner’s name. He thinks the guy might be trying to cause some shit. I’m going to research him, and you do the computer mojo thing.”

  He was on it.

  Curtis missed this part of his life, and he was glad to be able to help. First stop?

  The message boards.

  “And one other thing.”

  “I need you to find if another hit has been put out on Poppy for me.”

  “You think that whoever hired Claude Black, whether that be Raye or Lipton, is going to take another shot at her?” he asked.

  Yeah, she did.

  “The more I think about it, I can’t see Zachary Lipton calling out the dogs. This feels like something that asshole Raye would do.”

  He agreed.

  “Jeffrey Raye won’t quit. Who are we kidding? He’s going to keep coming at us.”

  She had a point.

  He would.

  He was relentless.

  “Okay, so find any newbies to the scene, and find out if Poppy is in danger.”

  “Yes.”

  “I can do that.”

  “You can head down to your place.”

  “Are you sure, Mom? I can keep you busy. I don’t mind,” he offered—even though he’d love to spend some time with Kat and Sadie.

  “It’s okay, Curtis. My babysitter is keeping an eye on me,” she said, pointing at the kitchen.

  “Damn right he is,” Chris shouted.

  Curtis laughed, and saluted her.

  “Okay, general. You keep growing the troops. I’ll go run your searches for you. I’ll make sure I dig up something good.”

  She hoped so.

  They needed it.

  Chris waited for him to leave, then came over to sit beside her. She plopped her feet on his lap, sipped her tea, and ran, Virgil Christian, the cop.

  Chris watched her.

  “You’re worried.”

  She was.

  “He’s not going to give up so easily, and this case feels all jacked up. If I were working this as a detective, I’d be scratching my head.”

  Oh, Chris was aware.

  “Try not to stress, okay? You’ll go into labor. You have three and a half more weeks to go. God knows I can’t imagine how. You’re as big as a…”

  “If you say house, I’ll hit you.”

  “Clown car. I hope they don’t come out two at a time.”

  She laughed.

  “Jerk.”

  Maybe, but now she was smiling, and that was his job.

  Outside, he was being silly.

  Inside, he was worried.

  Something bad was brewing.

  Chris could feel it.

  Vegas was about to blow.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Margot Silva’s

  Home

  When her phone rang, she answered it. She was officially out of the business, and that sucked. She hated Greyson Croft for that. Because of him, word had traveled far and wide, and all of her clients were refusing to use her anymore.

  SURPRISE.

  She wasn’t shocked. After all, they’d heard Greyson Croft had come calling, and the man was bad news for any upcoming entrepreneurs in the city.

  He’d ruined her.

  When someone wanted a girl, she was actually shocked. Someone still trusted her?

  What?

  It wasn’t like she had anyone to send out. There was literally ONE GIRL.

  She only had one employee left—other than herself.

  Her daughter.

  So, when he asked for someone, she didn’t hesitate. They didn’t have a husband or father anymore, and this was the only way to pay the bills and stay alive.

  She had no choice.

  “
Who is this?” she asked.

  The voice sounded familiar.

  “Harold.”

  It set off alarm bells.

  “My boss wants a girl.”

  “Uh, okay,” she stated. Well, fuck Greyson Croft. She wasn’t going to alert him. She knew she should, but Margot was pissed enough that he’d ruined them.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “Can you send her to the motel? Only, this time, I’ll pick her up across the street.”

  “I can do that.”

  “It’ll be the black Lincoln.”

  She was aware.

  “Our fee…it’s gone up,” she stated.

  Yeah, thanks to Croft.

  “You know I’m good for the money. I’ll give it to her. Greyson Croft has been to the motel. I can’t risk it. I’ve always loved your girls.”

  She knew it was a bad idea. She knew that Misty had gone missing, and now Alexsandra too.

  “How about I meet you?” she stated. “I am just as good as any girl,” she purred, worried about her kid.

  She was street smart, but still…

  “No, my boss likes them young.”

  She understood.

  “I’ll triple your fee.”

  She saw dollar signs, and that canceled any fear she had. That would keep them in business for the week until she could find more girls or figure out what else they could do.

  Margot was desperate.

  “No problem, Harold. I’ll send her.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  When he hung up, he was amused.

  Yeah, Harold.

  Women were stupid.

  That was for sure.

  Well, this would tie up the loose ends. She could identify him by voice and he couldn’t have that.

  At all.

  It was time.

  To get his fuck on.

  And then have some fun.

  With the law, the hookers, and the Crofts.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sky Villa

  Wednesday Night

  G reyson was on his way up to his condo from the parking garage when Riley called to update him on what had gone down. He had the information he needed from their forced autopsy.

  He was glad.

  At that moment, he felt like he was falling behind. What he wanted to do was go home, talk to Emma, and see what she thought.

  How wrong was it dump this all on his pregnant wife? Only, he knew she was the ONLY one who really got it. She was a cop to her core, and he was more the boss.

  Okay.

  She was better at this than him. Her being pregnant put one hell of a cog in the works when it came to solving cases. Greyson knew the truth.

  He couldn’t do it without her.

  This one should be easy.

  It was anything but.

  So now, he was going to talk case with his wife, once Riley clued him into anything new.

  “On a hunch, I ran Misty Rose.”

  “Okay,” he stated. “What did you find?”

  “Her. The body in the street was her. I still don’t know why the killer swapped tongues, trying to mess with the timeline, but he did.”

  He wasn’t sure either.

  “Okay, so we have an ID on all three of them. We found Susie Clark, Candice French, and now Misty Rose.”

  “Yeah, we have names, but no idea who killed them, or why.”

  “It has to be a john gone wild. It has to be Zachary covering his tracks with Claude Black,” he stated.

  Riley couldn’t answer that.

  “If only Claude was alive…”

  He was aware.

  They should have taken him alive, but he didn’t have a choice. He was going to kill Poppy, and he had already shot Dimitri in the body armor.

  “What else do we have?”

  He told Greyson about having Emma run his partner.

  “He’s gunning for you.”

  “Who isn’t?” Greyson asked.

  If he had a dollar for every person who wanted him dead, he’d be even richer.

  “Well, I’m riding solo.”

  “Why don’t you ask your captain to pair you up with Poppy when she comes back?” Greyson offered, Dimitri agreeing from beside him.

  “I might do that. I can keep an eye on her for Dimitri.”

  Greyson knew that would be appreciated.

  “Plus, she won’t betray you.”

  “Amen,” Riley stated. “I feel like I’m hanging and waiting for someone to cut the line.”

  Welcome to the club.

  This was Vegas.

  “Hang in there. Do you have COD on the last one? Refresh my memory on the first two.”

  “No problem. Like the other women, COD is strangulation. That’s what did them in. Someone likes it rough. She was covered in bruises, and the sex was rough.”

  Great.

  “Like the other two, Misty was cut up post-mortem, and shoved into the bag. It was precise. It was perfect. Someone knows how to make sure we don’t get anything from a body. There was NO trace. In fact, the tech team finally found what they were washed down with.”

  “What?”

  “The same shit the LVPD uses in the morgue. It’s an antiseptic cleaner. The person who bagged them knew what they were doing.”

  Clearly.

  “For the record, the ME was NOT amused by this one. My boss didn’t ask why the FBI was breathing down our necks, but it worked. He is suspicious. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Greyson was aware.

  That was exactly why he was going to pick his wife’s brain on this one.

  “Thank you, Riley.”

  “Can you send my girl down? I’ll be at your place in five minutes.”

  He could do that.

  At the front desk, both men checked in with security, making sure everything was good. Security updated them and handed over a delivery to Dimitri.

  Greyson stared at him.

  At some point, Dimitri ordered flowers to be dropped off for his girl. Greyson was going to bust his ass as he picked up the two dozen roses in two bunches.

  Then, he couldn’t.

  Dimitri actually handed him one.

  It threw him off.

  “Are we dating? This may be how I know we’re spending too much time together. Are we going to kiss goodnight at the door too?”

  Heath laughed.

  Nikita still didn’t. She’d been stony-faced the whole afternoon, and that hadn’t changed.

  “Sorry,” Heath offered. “I pictured it. You two make a cute couple.”

  Both men stared at him.

  “You’re off for the night,” he said, cutting them free.

  “Thanks, boss,” he said, as they got into the elevator.

  “Now, really, what’s with the flowers?” Greyson asked as they followed them into the confined space.

  “Well, I was thinking you could romance your very pregnant wife after you tell her that you made yourself a target again.”

  Well, fuck.

  Yeah, he would need flowers.

  “My wingman and best friend. You were thinking ahead,” he offered.

  He laughed.

  “I am actually kidding, but it seemed appropriate. When’s the last time you bought your wife flowers?”

  “Uh…”

  Dimitri knew why he’d been lax. He’d been buried in Dimitri’s mess, and for that, he owed him. In a way, he was buying them for Greyson to give to Emma.

  It was his way of giving back.

  “They are pretty,” Nikita stated.

  When they all looked at her, she shrugged.

  “What? Women like pretty things. I have ovaries and a vagina. That makes me a woman. Sue me.”

  Greyson opened his mouth and closed it when Heath gave him the look.

  “No comment.”

  When the elevator stopped on Dimitri’s floor, he got out.

  “Would you send Poppy down?” he asked, knowing he was going to woo her a little. S
he deserved it. It was day three, and she hadn’t run.

  He had hope that this was only going to get better if he put in the effort.

  “I can.”

  “Call me if you need me, and don’t make the wife think about the dead. Tomorrow is soon enough,” he warned, knowing the man.

  Greyson looked guilty.

  He’d been planning just that.

  Well, shit.

  “Okay, fine!”

  The door closed.

  Greyson hit the stop button and faced Nikita.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hate me, and I certainly don’t want you to toss my offer. You can’t get offended by me. I tend to be a caveman and say things without thinking.”

  She listened.

  As did Heath.

  “I love your bed buddy, and I’m not going to risk him leaving because I pissed you off,” he stated.

  Greyson wasn’t sure if Heath would leave, but he was cutting off that option.

  “He’s our family now, and I would like for you to keep the job offer, and become one of us too. You fit, Nikita.”

  She softened.

  “I wouldn’t betray you, Mr. Croft.”

  “Greyson. Please.”

  “Thank you for that apology. It was genuine. We all need a little of that in our lives. I like working for you, and I’ll think about what you said. Right now, I work for Blackhawk. When he cuts me free, I’ll keep it in mind. For the record, I don’t hate working with you or your sidekick.”

  He laughed.

  “Well, trust me, it’s all kinds of awkward. I keep thinking about you sleeping with him.”

  That had Heath’s attention.

  “Pardon?”

  Greyson smiled.

  “Oops.”

  Nikita laughed.

  “You’re sadistic,” she said, offering him a fist bump. “I like that in a person.”

  “Wait,” Heath stated. “What did he mean by sleeping?” he asked, as Greyson hit the button and then pulled a rose out of the bunch for Nikita.

  She winked at him.

  “Really? Only one.”

  He laughed.

  At the next floor, Nikita and Heath got off, and he looked helplessly at the man.