No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book

by Morgan Kelley

  Was it crazy?

  Yes, but his words…they kept haunting him. When he finally finished working out, he knew there was only one thing he could do.

  He had to ask Greyson what was going on.

  So, back to the penthouse he went, his temper brewing, his paranoia stirred up, and his heart thumping in his chest. In the condo, he found him washing two bowls in the kitchen.

  Well, it looked like it was going to be time to have a little talk about the future.

  When Chris came in, Greyson glanced over.

  “How was the workout?” he asked, drying a bowl with a hand towel.

  “Shitty.”

  “Why?” Greyson asked, seeing the look on Chris’s face. Someone was stirred up. Only, he didn’t know why. The gym should be a calming thing.

  “Can we talk?”

  They already were, but Chris looked like he was off of his game. That worried Greyson.

  “Sure,” he said, putting the towel and bowl down. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Are you upset with me?”

  That surprised him.

  “Why do you think I’m upset?” he asked, not sure what gave him that impression. Before Chris had come in, he’d been thinking about the case and playing it over and over in his head.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re leaving me in with the women and you told me to move out.”

  That really shocked him.

  “I was kidding,” he said, trying to figure out what the underlying issue was. When he’d been a Director, rarely what someone said was what was bothering them. You had to dig deeper.

  “Were you?” Chris asked. Then he went there. “Is this because I told you about wanting a child and how I wanted Emma to carry?”

  Greyson went to say something, but unfortunately, his wife had picked that moment to waddle into the kitchen.

  Great.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Both men stared at each other.

  “Emma,” Greyson began.

  “He told me to move out, and I feel like I’m being pushed as far out of his life as possible,” Chris stated.

  Emma stared at her husband.

  “WHAT?” she asked, her hands on her baby belly. She’d come out to tell Greyson she needed him to rub her back, it was killing her, but she’d found this.

  “Greyson, what’s going on?” she asked.

  “Chris, I’m not kicking you out of our lives,” he stated, trying to reassure the man.

  “Really? It feels like it. I don’t go out with you anymore to work. You’re taking Heath and Nikita, and I feel like I’ve pissed you off. I came to you, to be honest.”

  He was aware.

  And he appreciated that honesty.

  “I keep you here for a reason.”

  Chris needed to know why.

  “Maybe you should tell me why, so I can stop thinking that being honest with you was my downfall.”

  Emma watched them.

  Greyson leaned on the counter, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. She could tell he was tired.

  BONE WEARY TIRED.

  He was exhausted from the battle and the fight. He was wearing down, getting more gray in his hair, and lines from the stress around his eyes.

  Vegas was breaking him.

  “Chris, I leave you with Emma for a reason. I leave you with her because it’s for the best.”

  “Why? I should be out there working this case. Next to Emma, I’m the one who has the most experience with homicides. I was a street cop, Grey, and no offense, I was also a homicide cop before I became captain. I lived, breathed, and ate homicide. Instead, you’re riding with Dimitri, Heath, and Nikita. I should be out there and I’m not. You’re not a stupid man. There’s a reason.”

  Oh, there was.

  It was a simple one.

  He handed him the truth.

  “You, next to me, have the most skin in the game. You wouldn’t let anything happen to Emma. Right now, I do need help with this case, but I have to make a choice,” he said. “I have to put her welfare above the dead call girls, above anyone else, and it’s not an easy decision.”

  Chris listened.

  “For once, I’m putting her first. After all of the months of my career, and Vegas, I want to put Emma first. I want to make sure she’s safe, and keeping you here is for one important reason. I trust that she’s safe if you’re with her.”

  Chris felt bad.

  Clearly, he’d misinterpreted the whole thing.

  “It goes beyond this case. I’ve said this to her before, but if I go down, or something happens to me, I want you to take over for me. If I die, Chris, I want you to marry her. What you see as me pushing you aside, is the opposite. I’m keeping you with her because she matters more to me than anything.”

  Chris didn’t know what to say.

  Emma did.

  “I’m freaking right here, and you may actually die by my hand. You don’t hand women out as consolation prizes, Greyson Croft.”

  Yeah, he was aware.

  Only, this was Vegas, and it was a whole new ballgame.

  He gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  “I didn’t think…,” Chris began.

  Greyson stopped him.

  “I know how you feel about her. I know that you love her, and if I wasn’t here, you’d be all over her.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  “Right?”

  Chris didn’t lie. It was the one thing that you could count on with any situation. He’d be honest even if it cost him everything.

  It was his integrity.

  “Absolutely, but so would half the men in this city with the rest being gay. Emma is special, and I do love her very much.”

  He was aware.

  “Well, that’s why you’re being ‘left behind’, as you see it. You’re my replacement if I go down. I’m trying to ensure that Emma doesn’t hurt for too long. With you, she’ll be safe. You’ll keep my child safe, too, and you’d raise him as your own. I know you. You’re the most honorable man I know.”

  Chris couldn’t believe any of this.

  He had really believed Greyson was pissed at him.

  “If I die, you have my blessing.”

  Emma stared at him. It was like the two of them had lost their damn minds.

  “Do I get a say in this? You know, since this isn’t the caveman days?”

  Greyson knew why he was telling them this. While Emma thought he was insane, he was setting this up for what was to come.

  “I’m being realistic. I pointed Jeffrey Raye at me today, and I’m covering my bases.”

  When she thought he couldn’t shock her more—than with this craziness, he did—tenfold.

  “WHAT?”

  Greyson didn’t hide it from his wife.

  He told her everything. When he was done, Emma only had one thing to say.

  “Oh, Greyson, what have you done?” she asked, looking over at Chris. “You let him do something so reckless?” she asked.

  “He wasn’t inside. I left him in the car, behind—again. I made sure he didn’t see Chris. I know what I’m doing, Emma.”

  She doubted that.

  Poking Jeffrey Raye, when they didn’t know enough about what kind of money or power he had, was insane. It was a crapshoot, and he had to see it.

  Someone was going to get hurt.

  “All I care about is your welfare,” he said, pointing at his son in her body. “You’re safe here. I can’t have him coming after Dimitri, his kids, you, or Mac. Think what you want, but I’m a planner, and if I go down, someone has to keep you going forward, Emma. I don’t want you standing over a grave, dying inside.”

  “That’s my choice.”

  “NO. It’s not. It’s being selfish. You need to carry on for our son, and you need to be a mother. I know you’ll miss me, but when I’m gone, I’ll still be part of you in our child. I don’t want you to shutdown, lay in bed, or be medicated. I want you to realize that o
ur time was a bridge to what comes next. Chris will help you move on, and he’ll let my legacy live.”

  Tears filled Greyson’s eyes.

  “I have to be realistic, and so do you. Chris is the most important person to me outside of you and Mac. He will make sure the woman I love, and my only child, will be okay. To me, that’s worth everything. He won’t grow up in this shithole Vegas. I will clean it up, I will make it better, and I will end this nonsense, even if it costs me my life.”

  Emma didn’t know what to say.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get some work done. I have a case to work. Go to bed, Emma. You need to rest.”

  With that, he was done.

  Greyson grabbed the stack of papers that Emma had printed out regarding the case and headed toward his liquor cabinet. They watched as he poured a bourbon and grabbed a cigar. Then, he went to the balcony, sat, and began working.

  She went to follow, but Chris stopped her.

  “He’s hurting.”

  “Yes, but give him space until he calms down.”

  Emma stared at him.

  “You knew what he did, didn’t you?”

  “Well, like he said, I was left outside to be protected from it, but I knew what he was going to do.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Here was the tricky ground.

  “No, and for a reason.”

  “Which is?” Emma asked.

  “Emma, he’s Greyson. You can’t neuter him from doing what he wants. He’s going to be this man and if we fight him, he’s distracted. He’s struggling with this case. You can tell. Cut him a break.”

  She knew he was right.

  “About what he said,” Chris began.

  “Yes?”

  “If anything happens to him, I will keep you and Mac safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Emma. I swear on my life.”

  She believed him.

  “I know you wouldn’t, Chris. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this city is going to blowup around us, but he didn’t take one thing into account.”

  “And that is?” he asked.

  “I can fight for myself too. I’m not some piece of fluff who needs a man. I’m still Emma.”

  He smiled.

  “You’re twice the Emma you once were,” he teased.

  “You’re a dick,” she said, laughing.

  Wasn’t that the truth?

  “Get some rest. You’re pale. I’ll keep an eye on the boss man,” he offered.

  She gave him a kiss.

  “Thank you, Chris.”

  “Sweet dreams, Emma,” he said, as she waddled away. Chris grabbed a beer and sat facing the balcony door.

  It was time to do what he was supposed to do.

  Protect the ones he loved.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Across Vegas

  His Basement

  Oh, the sex had been mediocre, but that was likely because she had been crying.

  Yes, he’d been hard on her. He’d pummeled her with angry fists and then strangled her until she was an empty shell. It helped him get the rage out, so he could face the day.

  Without that one act, he couldn’t do it.

  He wouldn’t be able to function in the real world. While he knew it was all kinds of wrong, it wasn’t like anyone would miss her.

  As he washed her down, he felt remorse.

  Again.

  And again, tomorrow, it would be gone. As he sprayed her with the disinfectant, and then prepared the saw, he knew that he would be better in the morning.

  As he worked, taking her apart piece by piece, he placed her limbs in the big sink in the corner, and then cleaned her down with the same disinfectant again.

  She was now free of any evidence.

  As he packed her up, in the bag, he knew there was only one loose end left. There was only one person who could identify him by his voice.

  It was time.

  Placing her in the trunk, he drove across town to the smaller home where she lived with her whore mother. Once there, he popped the lock and found her inside.

  Sneaking up behind her, he slit her throat, leaving her to bleed out on the floor in front of him.

  Then he placed the body beside her, leaving a few more things to mess with them.

  Then he was gone.

  Tomorrow, he’d feel better.

  Tomorrow, it would be a better day. The darkness would disappear, and he’d be able to keep his façade in place.

  He hoped.

  It was getting harder and harder, and the end, he feared, was near. Greyson Croft was close, and he couldn’t lose his life. He loved it too much.

  Something had to be done.

  Now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thursday

  A fter a long night of reading over everything that Emma, Poppy, and Delilah had dug up online to help him, Greyson was edgy, cranky, and a man ready to lose his mind. Something wasn’t working out on paper, but he couldn’t figure out what.

  So, he needed to do something about it. Today, he had a feeling that it was make-or-break, and he was going to beat this killer, get Alexsandra’s friend justice, and put a stop to Zachary Lipton’s nonsense.

  Then he was going to get Jeffrey Raye handled too.

  Today, he was done sulking, and it was going to be do or die. Greyson knew he had no choice. The safety of his family depended on it.

  For Emma.

  For Poppy.

  For his son.

  So, up after only a couple of hours of sleep, he had messages sent to everyone in the family.

  The team was working, and their bases were covered.

  Dante and Steele were going to be at Neptune, ensuring that the women were safe and that if Tommy Shepherd, the unknown man showed up, he would be screwed. Kat and Curtis were going to be working out of the hotel, helping Dante from that base and meeting with Delilah to get some legal matters handled.

  Chris would be in Sky Villa with Poppy and Emma, making sure they were safely tucked away.

  Greyson would handle the world outside the ivory tower, and he’d make sure his family lived to fight another day. When he went to bed, he had no hope.

  Today, he had something more.

  Determination.

  He would retrace his steps until he figured out what he’d missed during the last three days.

  As he sipped his coffee, his wife came into the kitchen. Her hand was on her belly.

  “Are you okay?”

  She gave him a kiss and leaned into him.

  “Yeah, Mac is heavy.”

  He laughed, and it felt good.

  “Is that somehow a crack at me eating two bowls of ice cream last night?”

  She was glad he was smiling.

  “No, and it was frozen yogurt.”

  He stared at her.

  “I can’t trust you.”

  Emma sat, and Greyson pushed in her chair.

  “Can you get me coffee?” she asked. “I need the real stuff today, Grey. I feel like I’m ready to drop. I’ve been up five minutes.”

  He could tell.

  She looked worse than he felt.

  When Chris came in, he poured two cups. The man had been sitting up and watching him all-night.

  “Morning,” he mumbled.

  Greyson passed the cup toward him.

  “Bless you. I’m getting too old for this.”

  Emma agreed.

  “You both could go back to sleep. You don’t have to be up. We’re getting a bright start to the morning, but you can rest.”

  “I will,” Emma stated, lying her ass off. She was going to go back through Greyson’s notes, her notes, and help him. She knew he was struggling.

  “Good.”

  “What’s your plan?” Chris asked as Emma leaned on him. No one was running on a full tank that morning.

  No one.

  As soon as Greyson left, he was going to crash on the couch with Emma, and take a nap.

  “I tex
ted Dimitri. We’re going to head back to the madam’s home first thing. She has to be withholding something. If that doesn’t work, I may need to meet with Alexsandra. I may need to ask her some questions.”

  They understood.

  “What’s tripping you up?” Emma asked.

  Greyson hesitated.

  “My body is taxed with this pregnancy, Grey, not my brain. Let me have what you’re tripped up with, and maybe I can help you.”

  She was right.

  “The pickup schedule. We have Harold picking up women at The Hidden Pearl, no-tell motel, right?”

  She nodded.

  “He’s careful not to show his face, and the only one who knows his name is the madam.”

  “I’m with you so far.”

  “Then we have Dimitri’s club, Neptune. We have Harold there with his boss, Zachary, and he’s picking up women from Nate and Tommy.”

  She nodded.

  “Keep going.”

  “There, Harold was seen by the girls, and so was Zachary.”

  Chris kept listening.

  “They didn’t care if they were seen. They figured it was all good since Dimitri didn’t pop into that club,” he offered. “Then we have the university pickup.”

  Emma waited.

  “Someone picked up Candice French there in a Lincoln. She never disappeared from there, and none of the girls from Neptune went missing either. So why are there three girls, all who showed up at The Hidden Pearl dead?”

  It was a good question.

  “What if Harold was out and about doing things behind his boss’s back?” Emma asked. “Then, Zachary killed him because he found out.”

  Greyson stared at her.

  Yeah, he hadn’t thought about that.

  Could it be that simple?

  Harold was out trolling for women, too, and maybe, he was dipping into the same pool?

  “But what about Claude Black?” Chris asked.

  Emma thought about it.

  “Has anyone asked the madam, again, if someone named Zachary is a client?” she asked. “We know she lied when she was interviewed the first time and said she was supplying to Harold, for who we thought was his boss, but what if we assumed that Claude was cleaning up for Zachary Lipton, and Harold was actually the one doing the deed? People can mimic other killers. Harold would know that Claude used that method.”