“But Harold is dead,” Greyson stated.
“Yeah, and we haven’t had any more bodies or women go missing. Maybe one of those two men are the killer, and we are trying too hard to make this all about Zachary.”
She had a point.
“Someone is messing with us. What about the switched-up tongues?”
She laughed.
“That’s just weird. I got nothing.”
Chris found that amusing.
“Me either.”
Greyson knew what he needed to do.
He needed to talk to the madam.
Now.
Chugging the rest of his coffee, he got ready to head out. When he slipped a gun into a holster under his arm, he was done and set.
“Be safe today,” Emma stated.
He hugged her and then went to one knee to talk to his son. He left a kiss on her belly.
“Be good for momma.”
She couldn’t help but smile at him.
“I’ll call. If you need me, give me a text.”
He patted Chris on the shoulder and headed for the door. When he closed it, Chris helped Emma to the couch.
“I’m in the early stages of labor,” she stated.
He stopped mid-walk.
“WHAT?”
“I am having contractions.”
He looked freaked-out.
“Maybe you should have told HIM that?” he suggested. “Greyson would want to know.”
She laughed.
“It could be two days of labor,” she stated. “The contractions are really far apart. He needs to do this. I need to do the labor thing in peace.”
He understood.
“If you need to get to the hospital, let me know. Please don’t make me deliver a baby.”
She laughed.
“I mean it.”
Emma sat on the couch.
“Trust me. I want to be at the hospital with the good drugs.”
Thank God for that.
Chris got her settled and handed her some files.
“Work. You’ll stop thinking about it. I’ll help.”
Emma did just that.
For her.
And for Greyson.
Downstairs, he knocked on Heath’s door. When he opened, he was zipping his fly.
“We need to roll.”
“Can I talk to you a second?” he asked, stepping out the door.
“You’re not going to tell me you can’t work because you came down with Nikita flu, are you?”
He looked at him like he was insane.
“Never! I need your advice.”
“What?”
“How do I get her to stay?”
“What?”
“She’s talking about going back to a hotel or getting her own place. She dumped her cover when Blackhawk pulled her as a stripper, and I want her to live with me.”
“Ask her.”
“What if she says no?”
He didn’t get why this was so hard for Heath. Nikita clearly liked him.
“Ask her nicely, and be romantic.”
“Uh, how?”
Greyson didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t tell the man to let it go. This was clearly bothering Heath.
“Do more than fuck,” he said, trying to put it in terms he’d understand. “Go out on a date. What did you do with your other girlfriends?”
“Not much. The last one didn’t really like being seen out with me. She was a teacher at this Catholic school. She wouldn’t live with me either.”
“Okay, well, Nikita isn’t her. Ask her out on a date.”
“When?”
He looked at his watch.
“I tell you what. Go now.”
“What? I have to keep you safe.”
Greyson knew that he’d be fine, and honestly, he wanted Raye to make a move so he could put a bullet in his head. Fewer witnesses meant fewer issues.
“Take her out to breakfast and then head to the park. Take a walk, buy her a coffee, and hold her hand.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, we’re only going to reinterview the madam, and then head to the hotel to talk to Alexsandra. I’ll be with Dimitri, and he’s on his game now that Poppy is back. Have a day off. Take her out.”
He hugged him.
And nearly crushed him to death.
“Thank you, Mr. C. You’re the best.”
Greyson was glad to escape the man. When he went back in, he ran for the elevator—just in case he felt more hugs coming on.
Hopefully, Dimitri wouldn’t be busy.
Or he was shit out of luck.
Inside his place, Heath found Nikita pulling on body armor. She was so lovely, that his heart skipped.
“We aren’t going out to work,” he stated, giving her the heads-up.
She glanced over at him.
“Pardon?”
“Mr. C gave us the day off. I was wondering if you’d…maybe you and I can…how about we…?”
He was flustered.
Nikita moved closer. They’d had some hot sex the previous night, but today, he seemed off. Something was bothering him.
“What?” she asked.
“I’d like to take you on a date.”
It caught her off guard.
“A date?”
“Can I buy you breakfast, and then maybe we can take a walk in the park?” he asked, hoping she didn’t turn him down. It would break his heart.
“A date?” she asked again.
Men didn’t ask her on dates. They asked her to bed. She was good at fornicating.
“I just assumed that since we were sleeping together, that we were…”
Jesus.
Heath was all tied up in knots.
“No one has ever asked me on one,” she admitted.
He found that internal fortitude and went with it.
“I am asking. Will you have breakfast with me?” Heath asked.
How could she say no to that?
He was sweet.
He was a gentle giant.
She could tell.
“I’ll get changed,” she offered. “I have something that might work.”
He smiled that big toothy grin.
“I’ll get changed too. Thank you for going out with me, Niki.”
Her heart skipped when he called her that. It was sweet and gentle, and something lacking from her life.
“It’s my pleasure, Heath.”
And it was.
More than he’d ever know.
At Dimitri’s door, he knocked. Normally, he’d walk right in, but he figured the man now had a family and life, and he should be more respectful.
When it opened, he was dressed and ready.
“Why are you knocking?” he asked.
“In case the place is a rockin’,” he teased.
Dimitri rolled his eyes and let him in. Behind the kitchen counter, Poppy was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, and the kids were already started on their schoolwork.
“Wow, someone’s up early.”
Sam rushed over and gave Greyson a hug. “We have a field trip today. We’re going to the museum. I’m going to look at paintings of naked babes.”
Greyson laughed.
“You are your father’s child. Only, he calls it porn.”
Dimitri choked on his coffee when Poppy started laughing from the kitchen. He was accustomed to being tormented.
In fact, he lived for it.
It was the sound of her laughter that caught him off guard. She’d had a rough night sleeping or being terrorized by a nightmare. The sound of her voice with cheer caught him off balance and made his heart skip.
“Anyway,” Greyson stated, “we have to visit a madam and discuss hookers.”
Poppy glanced over.
“How’s the case?” she asked.
“Ehhh…”
“That good, huh?”
He only wished.
“I’m tripped up on one part,” he said, explaining it to her.
When he was done, she put the towel down and thought about it.
“I’d definitely go back at the madam, and then I’d head back to Zachary’s to find out why he didn’t call in that his employee is MIA. That’s suspicious.”
He thought so too.
He’d messaged Riley that morning, and as of yet, Harold Cline was still rotting at his place. Something was definitely up.
“That’s the plan if I can borrow your elusive and very Russian man.”
Poppy headed his way and gave Dimitri a soft kiss on the lips.
“As long as you promise to bring him home in one piece, you can borrow him.”
He laughed.
“I feel so cheap.”
Poppy felt a million times better today. Waking from a nightmare, scared stupid, she found Dimitri beside her. He pulled her into his body, cuddled her, and whispered soft words in Russian in her ear.
It soothed.
He soothed.
Greyson slapped him on the ass.
“I own you, for now, hustle up.”
He looked horrified.
Poppy laughed her ass off.
“Save me,” Dimitri whispered to her, giving her that pleading look.
She snorted.
“I’ll get the kids and tutor off to the museum, and then I’m going upstairs with Emma and Chris. Behave, boys,” she said, waving goodbye.
Dimitri blew her a kiss.
“I love you.”
She smiled.
“I love you too.”
And she did.
With all her heart.
Outside the door, Greyson was leaning on the wall. Before he could say anything, Dimitri hugged him.
“Thank you for that. She had a rough night.”
He hugged him back.
“I could tell. She looked tired. Nightmares?”
He nodded.
Together, they got into the elevator and headed down to the main level.
“She’s struggling. Maybe we can have Paris sit down and talk with her. He really helped Sam when he was having issues,” Dimitri stated.
“That’s a good idea,” he said, agreeing. “I think going back to work will help too. Normalcy.”
“I want you to get married.”
Greyson glanced over.
“Pardon?”
“You put it off, and I’m good. I want to be your best man. As soon as Emma has the baby, please get married. I need it to see you heal and for me to heal.”
He patted him on the back.
“We will.”
“Then I’m going to get married after you.”
He lifted a brow.
“Moving fast, no?”
Dimitri smiled.
“Yeah, I am. I think that will help her too. It will help me. I need that one last thing in my life. When this case is over, will you help me pick out a ring? That’s what Chris wanted Emma to help him with when he wanted to marry Natasha. I want my best friend to do it with me.”
Greyson would love that.
“I’d be honored.”
He dropped his arm over his shoulders.
“On one condition.”
“Uh oh,” Dimitri stated. “What?”
“When you get married, you take a honeymoon. I want you to have enough faith in the family that you can go away for a week with Poppy. You deserve it.”
They exited the elevator and checked in with security. Everything looked fine, so they headed to the next elevator to the garage.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” Dimitri stated. “I’m going to take her somewhere special.”
That gave Greyson peace. He didn’t tell him about his talk with Chris and Emma. Greyson was making sure everything was in place for any of his worst-case scenarios.
“Shall we shake down a madam?” Greyson asked as he tossed Dimitri the keys to his personal car.
Dimitri smiled.
“It’s time. She knows something she isn’t telling us.”
Yeah, and if that were true?
Greyson knew the outcome.
She was dead.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Outside Margot’s
Home
The show was about to begin. While Greyson Croft thought he was the king of Vegas, that wasn’t going to be the case going forward.
He’d tried to cause trouble, and that was going to end here and now.
As he sat outside the dead madam’s home, it had been set up to be perfect. They were about to get the surprise of their lives.
It was going to be his just desserts.
All he had to do was show up.
The trap had been baited.
The game was in play.
Now, as he showed up to do his thing, the trap would be sprung.
As the man’s car pulled up, he saw them getting out. It was just the two of them, and that was even better. It was time to make sure Greyson was busy.
For the rest of his life.
He pulled out his phone.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“I just saw Greyson Croft and Dimitri Gideon go into a house. There was screaming. I think they’re killing someone. Oh God! They did!”
“What’s the address?”
He rattled it off.
“What’s your name?” the operator asked.
“Harold.”
And then he hung up.
Yes, it had begun.
He was about to catch the biggest rat in Vegas.
And his little friend too.
It was almost over.
For them.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Greyson and Dimitri stopped at the front door. When they knocked, no one came to answer. Since there was a car in the driveway, he knew the woman was likely hiding from them.
He didn’t blame her.
If he was screwing with him, he’d hide too.
“What do you want to do?” Dimitri asked.
“Well, I can’t solve this until someone clears up a few things. I need to talk to her.”
Well, then they were going in.
Heading around the back of the home, they found a screen sliding door. It was open.
“Pop the lock,” Greyson stated, and Dimitri did just that.
Once it was open, they moved into the kitchen, and toward the living room where there was a TV on.
As they rounded the corner, trying to surprise the woman, they were the ones who were caught off guard.
On the recliner, there was the dead madam.
Her throat was cut.
On the wall, scrawled beside her in blood were two initials.
D.G.
As in Dimitri Gideon.
Oh, shit.
What made it worse?
Beside her, there was a bag, and it was oozing onto the floor. There was a tag on it. They could see it from there.
It had ‘Croft’ written on it.
Well, fuck.
Before Greyson could say anything, or Dimitri either, they heard it.
“Put your hands up!” someone shouted, as the flashing lights appeared outside and the front door was kicked in.
There were cops.
Lots and lots of cops.
And here they were, caught with two bodies.
Two signed works of mayhem.
And one sprung trap.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
He watched it all go down.
From the ‘borrowed’ vehicle he’d absconded from Harold’s front yard, Jeffrey Raye sat there enjoying the show.
It had been months in the making.
It had started when he arrived in Las Vegas with the intent to take down Greyson Croft. It had all been part of his plan.
He’d peppered the man’s life with mayhem and madness, keeping him playing the game. Now, he was taken down.
The king had walked right into this one.
He’d never seen it coming.
Why would he think that he, Jeffr
ey Raye was behind the killings? He wouldn’t even be a suspect. Yes, he was a crooked cop, but it went so much deeper than that.
He wanted to rule the world, and he needed this power. It was all that kept him in check. So, he’d fucked with the Crofts. He’d quit his job as planned, and it all fell into place.
Hook.
Line.
Sinker.
The last eighteen months had been a perfectly orchestrated game that the Crofts had played into from the start with Poppy’s rapist to Claude Black.
It all came down to this moment.
The king had been caught red-handed.
There wasn’t a cop in the world who would think that he was innocent. Greyson was destroyed.
It took patience.
It took wearing egg on his face in order to look like he’d failed time after time.
Only, each one was a victory.
Thomas Christ.
He was a victory.
Heath Spencer.
He was a victory.
They weren’t losses to him, even though the Crofts believed they’d won. Each time they had met on the field of battle, it was with purpose.
For this.
Vegas was now his.
Greyson Croft had moved his queen to the wrong square, and he was about to lose her.
Pulling out his phone, he made the call.
“He’s detained. You now have a free shot at Sky Villa. Make it count. I need both women dead, and that baby tossed off the side of the building.”
He hung up.
Checkmate, Croft.
Check—fucking—mate.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
LVPD
Thursday Mid-Morning
It was a freaking spectacle. The media had been alerted, somehow, and the dog and pony show was on. At the center of the chaos were two people that no one ever thought they’d see in handcuffs.
Greyson Croft.
No Justice_A Croft Mob Family Book Page 49
