Mob Justice

by Kelley, Morgan

  She laughed and gave him a fist bump.

  “Maybe next time.”

  He was horrified, and yet, his interest was piqued at the same time. He was a man. He couldn’t help it.

  “Emma!”

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  Chris wasn’t going there. If he did, he’d laugh his ass off. He knew better. Instead, they’d work.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “I don’t have information on Tristan Bauer. We have to head in and do some research. Plus, I think we gave the media enough to talk about. Let’s go back to the love shack.”

  He could do that.

  Being inside…it was a safer bet.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  He really hated getting his hands dirty, but sometimes, you had to bite the bullet and take care of business yourself.

  This was one of those times.

  All those years ago, when he was a green as grass detective, he had a really good partner.

  Quinn Harrell.

  He taught him everything he knew, and some of the not so legit things along the way. Then he left to work for the LVPD, and Jeffrey Raye missed his guidance.

  Well, now, they were going to take a walk down memory lane, and bad shit was coming.

  When Jeffrey needed information on Poppy, and he’d found that this specific detective had worked her mother’s case, it had made his day.

  He’d called him, and his old friend Quinn was more than willing to shoot the breeze.

  Only, that was before Poppy Wayne saw the original file on his desk.

  See…now he had a problem.

  Quinn Harrell, his old partner, might spill that Jeffrey had been there to talk case with him.

  That was an issue.

  While it pained him, Jeffrey was going to have to handle this loose end. In the process, he might get lucky and catch a rat.

  At the door, he waited for the man to let him in. Hopefully, he hurried. He couldn’t be seen there.

  That would be bad.

  Very.

  Very.

  Bad.

  As the man opened the door, he was so damn happy to see him, and that made this even worse.

  He liked Quinn. The man was a decent guy, and he’d been a good friend. Only, this was about every man for himself, and Jeffrey had a lot to lose. There were so many secrets that he couldn’t get caught up in this.

  “Come in!”

  He did just that.

  Inside, his old partner was jabbering on and on about something or other, and Jeffrey was only interested in one thing.

  “Did this woman come to see you?” he asked.

  Jeffrey crossed his fingers.

  “Yeah, she said she was working that cold case you asked about. I thought it was odd, but who knows?”

  “She’s the woman’s daughter. The one who found them.”

  Quinn shook his head.

  “That’s too bad. She didn’t say that she was her child. I remember her. It was a sad day.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Why did you need information?” Quinn asked.

  That didn’t matter.

  Poppy had been there, and that meant making sure no one tied him to this case.

  “She’s trying to make some waves.”

  He laughed.

  “Damn women. They should stay at home and take care of their family. When will they learn?”

  Yeah, on that, he agreed. He’d been married. He totally got that. Maybe had his wife been a wife, she’d still be alive.

  “I told her all I knew,” Quinn stated.

  Jeffrey sighed.

  He pulled out a pair of gloves and put them on as the older man watched him in confusion.

  “I’m sorry, buddy. You were a good friend, and I hate that I have to do this.”

  “Do what?” Quinn asked.

  Jeffrey pulled his gun, and on it was a silencer.

  Quinn stared at it.

  “What are you…?”

  He didn’t get to finish. Jeffrey Raye put a bullet in the man’s head, ending his life.

  “Rest in peace,” he stated, getting up, wiping the arms of the chair down, and turning up the heat in the place. It would screw with the TOD.

  Then he headed out.

  Well, that was one less loose end.

  And one less way Poppy Wayne could get to him. For now, Jeffrey Raye knew the truth.

  He was untouchable.

  And in Vegas, that was the most important thing.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  Poppy’s Apartment

  She knew someone was following her. Poppy could feel it. She also suspected it was the tail Dimitri had put on her. There was no way he was going to let her wander around without some security.

  He was worried.

  So was she.

  Now, all that she really wanted was to go into her apartment, get her spare gun, and then pack another bag. As soon as that was done, she was out of there.

  Dimitri was getting a roommate for the next few days until they found who was stalking her. She was shit scared and that the commissioner had that file on his desk…

  Was this a cop doing this to her?

  Did the commissioner have one of his goons playing with her?

  Knowing him, it was a distinct possibility.

  Unlocking the door, she headed in and could smell the blood. It stopped her in her tracks.

  At that moment, Poppy began backing out of the apartment, and out into the common area. There was no way she was going in there alone.

  As she stood there, Poppy must have looked petrified, because the guy who saved her bacon the other day was there in seconds.

  “Miss Wayne, what’s up?”

  “I don’t have my gun. The commissioner took it, and when I went inside, I smelled blood. Something is in there.”

  He pulled his gun.

  “Do you have a spare for a girl?” she asked. “I’m really good with them.”

  Ilan was aware.

  Sam had told him about the kill shot to Viktor Marchenko, and how she didn’t bat an eye at making it.

  He pulled his backup piece from the back holster.

  “Let me go first. I’m your security. Then we’ll call Dimitri. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Hand on my lower back, and stay out of my range,” he said with his Russian accent.

  Clearly, Ilan was NOT messing around.

  At that moment, she was damn glad he wasn’t either. This was some scary shit.

  They climbed the stairs to Poppy’s place, and the unlocked the door. Ilan pushed it with his toe, and he smelled it too.

  He lowered his voice.

  “Good job coming out.”

  “No gun. I’m not crazy. I want to live. You don’t play hero when you can’t defend yourself.”

  He pushed the door the rest of the way open, and they went in, Poppy having his back. At the kitchen, she noticed it.

  “There’s a butcher knife missing,” she whispered, keeping her voice low in case there was a crazy still hanging out there.

  Okay, that was good to know.

  Ilan knew what to watch for with a crazy hiding there. They entered the living room, and nothing was there.

  “Anything out of place?” he asked.

  Poppy looked around.

  “No.”

  That left the bedroom and bathroom.

  Heading toward the bedroom, he kept his body in front of hers. Poppy had never been so happy to have a stranger with a gun in her presence.

  He toed open the door, and nothing popped up. They went in, and that’s when he saw it.

  “Jesus,” Poppy stated, looking at her bedroom wall.

  There was an eviscerated cat nailed to the wall above her bed. Beneath it, there was an ominous message.

  ‘This is what happens to easy pussy. You’re next, Eloise.’

  Poppy wanted to cry.

  Ilan cleared under the bed
and in the closet. He did the bathroom next, and no one was there.

  “I’m going to call Dimitri,” he said, making the call and speaking in rapid Russian.

  She heard him. In fact, Poppy heard most of what he said.

  Ilan had just told Dimitri that the killer was getting closer, and to get there fast.

  Poppy wanted to be sick.

  So, she was.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  When Dimitri got the call, again, they’d missed Brent by minutes. The neighbor said he’d already left for work, and he wouldn’t be home until later.

  He would have to make a mental note to get to the man’s house earlier in the morning or back tonight. He was in the middle of making the plans when he got the call from Ilan.

  Dimitri answered, and immediately, he wanted to be ill.

  When he hung up, his face said it all. Tessa knew that something bad had gone down. If his face didn’t give it away, the way he gunned it and then drove out of there like a bat out of hell said it all.

  “What’s wrong?” Tessa asked, holding on for dear life.

  “Poppy stopped at her house to get a bag, and her mother’s killer left something for her.”

  “What?”

  He told her.

  Well, shit.

  They needed to get there, and fast.

  * * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *

  When he pulled up to Michael Skinner’s home, the man was there. Not only was he there, but so was some girl who was half his age.

  He should be ashamed of himself.

  When the woman opened the door, Greyson shushed her, and he walked in to find the man sitting at his breakfast table eating.

  “Lulu, what the hell are you doing?” he called.

  Greyson walked around the corner with Heath behind him, Lulu in tow.

  “Hello, Michael.”

  The man stared at him.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Greyson laughed.

  He took a seat at the table and placed his gun beside what had to be Lulu’s plate. The silencer was already on it.

  That said it all.

  “What are you doing here? I don’t gamble, and I keep my nose clean in Vegas. I couldn’t have done anything to make you angry.”

  Greyson didn’t look away.

  “Oh, don’t bet on that,” he stated.

  The man swallowed.

  “Heath, sit Lulu down. If she moves, or if she screams, silence her.”

  The man pulled his gun and held it to her head.

  “On it, boss.”

  Greyson knew his security would handle it.

  “Mr. Skinner, it’s been brought to my attention that you’re an asshole, but we’ll deal with that later. I’m here about Libby Raye.”

  “What did her asshole husband say I did? I told him years ago that I didn’t touch her.”

  “We have pictures of you at a Christmas party.”

  Okay, they didn’t, but when in Vegas, never show your cards on a bluff. This was his hand, and he was going to play it to the best of his ability.

  He looked nervous.

  “I suggest you tell me the truth. I don’t like when people lie to me. It makes me…bitchy.”

  The man weighed his options, all of them being the gun beside Greyson.

  “It only happened one time. I got drunk, she slapped me, and I had sex with her. She was a better fuck than my wife.”

  He picked up the gun and shot a hole in the man’s wall next to his head.

  Michael jumped.

  Lulu cried.

  “Is she the woman you left your wife and kids for?” he asked, pointing at the mousy blonde who was now weeping like a baby.

  “Yes.”

  That was misfortunate.

  “Lulu, honey, you broke up a home. That’s being a house wrecker. That’s very naughty.”

  Heath screwed the silencer on his gun.

  She began begging for her life.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Croft. I’m sorry. He said he’d take care of me. I didn’t…I didn’t think…”

  “She just pissed herself, Boss,” Heath said. “Want me to kill her now or later?”

  “In a bit, Heath.”

  She kept crying.

  “My wife sent you, didn’t she?” Michael asked, getting more and more nervous.

  “No, but the need to find your ex-sister-in-law certainly brought me to your door. What did Jeffrey Raye say to you?” he asked, looking for that next lead.

  He hesitated.

  “Really, Michael? Is he more of a threat than me? I hope not. That makes me want to up my game. You don’t want that. Trust me.”

  “He said that I was to stay out of the mess. He gave me some money NOT to help my wife find her sister. WHICH was good for me. I wanted out of that marriage.”

  “Do you like your kids?” he asked, setting him up for the next part of his plan.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you see them?”

  “NO! My cunt ex-wife…”

  He picked up his gun and shot a hole in the wall on the other side of his head.

  Lulu whimpered.

  “I don’t like that word. I especially don’t like when a man uses it in the direction of a woman who birthed his children. Am I clear?”

  The man nodded.

  “Mr. C, can I kill him? Someone called my sister that word once. It took them a month to pick him out of that wood chipper. I can get us one real fast. The neighbors won’t even know it’s a body until the bugs come.”

  “Maybe,” Greyson said, trying not to laugh. He loved Heath because he was always willing to play along. Then again, from the look on his face, he may not be playing along. He might be telling the truth.

  Who knew?

  Whatever it was, it served its purpose. Michael Skinner looked scared.

  “So, you had sex with Libby. Was it consensual?”

  He looked uncomfortable.

  “Was it?” Greyson asked again.

  “No.”

  Heath growled.

  “Why are you with this scumbag?” Heath asked Lulu. “You let that worm bone you? Have you no dignity? Oh, I forgot. You broke up a marriage cuz you’re a homewrecker.”

  She whimpered.

  Heath wasn’t the only one who was disgusted. Greyson was too.

  “So, you raped your sister-in-law, and your brother-in-law tells you not to help your wife when the victim of your traveling penis disappears. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  Greyson leaned back in his chair.

  “You realize, you are our biggest suspect, right? You are currently at the top of the list.”

  “I was with Lulu the day she disappeared. I was getting a blowjob at my office. Ask her.”

  Oh, he would.

  “Heath?”

  He put the gun to her head and there was the audible click of the safety going off on his gun.

  “If you lie, you die, Lulu. My finger is the truth detector, and you don’t want to BS my boss.”

  She nodded.

  “Did you give this asshole a blowjob on the day his rape victim disappeared?”

  She nodded.

  “He was with me all day at work. He didn’t leave. We had sex in his office later. He videotaped it.”

  Greyson was really grossed out by this man. He was the scum of the earth.

  “And a perv. Awesome.”

  The man sat there.

  Greyson called Lulu over so he could really end this man’s reign of stupidity. While he thought he was a scumbag, and the world could do without him, he had two kids.

  “Say goodbye to your lover, Lulu.”

  She dropped to her knees and begged for her life.

  “Please, Mr. Croft, I was only with him because he takes care of me. I didn’t know he raped her. I swear.”

  “You broke up a marriage.”

  She cried.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again!”

  Yeah, he somehow dou
bted that, but she wouldn’t do it here in Vegas.

  “Here are your choices. You grab your bag, you pack your shit, and you get on a bus out of Vegas. I mean WAY out of Vegas, and you never look back, or I kill you. Decide.”

  He’d never kill her, but he knew she wasn’t a die for the ‘ill-gotten gains’ kind of girl.

  She’d bail.

  Greyson would bet big money on it.

  “I’m gone. He has a small dick and I haven’t had a decent orgasm in months. I’ll leave right now.”

  He laughed.

  “Well, that says it all when your side piece thinks your gun is too small for the holster,” he stated.

  Michael went red.

  “Good choice, Lulu. I’d be more selective who you let fuck you. He’s a rapist. Keep that in mind.”

  She looked relieved.

  “Yes, Mr. Croft.”

  “Heath, take her upstairs and have her pack. She goes in those clothes. A little humiliation will do her good.”

  She raced up the stairs with Heath following her.

  Meanwhile, Greyson dropped the butt of his gun onto the man’s phone.

  It shattered it.

  Now, it was time to get down to business.

  “What do you think happened to Libby?” Greyson asked. “Since you worked with her, and you talked to her husband, why don’t you give me some insight?”

  “My brother-in-law mentioned one name. When he called and told me not to help my wife, he asked if she ever mentioned an Elaine Beasley.”

  “And that is?”

  “I have no idea. That’s all he ever said to me. I swear. I know nothing else.”

  Heath came downstairs with Lulu schlepping her own bag. That said it all. Heath was a gentleman beneath the scary façade. That he wasn’t helping her said it all.

  He was disgusted too.

  “I called her a cab to the bus terminal, boss. I can have the guys follow her to make sure she gets on that bus. One wrong move and she’ll have a bullet to the brain.”

  “Do it.”

  He knew there were no guys to follow her, but Heath was good at this kind of thing.