With that, they broke up and headed out. They needed to get something, or this case was going to stall.
* * *
Different Strokes
Mid-Town Las Vegas
It didn't take long to locate the ‘missing’ ME. The hardest part of this little side mission was building up the nerve to head into the bar to retrieve him. It was funny, since as a Ranger in the Army, he’d been in scarier situations, but a gay bar unnerved him.
Sucking it up, he knew this was for family.
Heading in, he found the ME slouched over a very large glass of whiskey. Apparently, he and his brother were made for each other. Neither had any business drinking hard booze.
Croft took a seat, and when a leather-clad bartender approached, winking at him, he ordered a bourbon. A normal bar wouldn’t be open this early, but this was Vegas.
Nothing closed.
While it was too damn early for anyone to be drinking, he needed it to calm his nerves. Already, there were some patrons in there checking him out.
He must love his brother very much.
“Hey, Steele, we need to talk.”
The man looked over at him as if trying to put his face and voice together in his head. He looked confused.
When he drained his glass, and the bartender went to pour another, Croft stepped in, pulling his badge.
“He’s beyond inebriated. You know it’s illegal to keep serving,” he warned.
The man scurried away.
“What do you want, Croft? Come here to gloat? Your brother loves you more than me and dumped my ass. You win. He’s all yours.”
Croft took a sip of his bourbon. Yeah, it was way too early for it. “Dante made a horrible mistake, and he wants you back. I’m only here as the messenger.”
Steele snorted as he ran his hands through his black hair in anger. “Oh, so now I’m supposed to take him back? Just like that? I have feelings too. I’m not just a gay man that he can screw around with until he’s bored.”
Greyson lowered his voice. “Steele, he showed up at my place crying and ready to fight me. I think that shows how he feels. My brother misses you, and from the looks of it, I think you miss him too.”
Or he wanted to commit suicide by bottle.
Either way, Croft was obligated to do something.
“Well, I miss him too. I love Dante, as in really, really, really, love him,” he slurred.
“So, why don’t you come with me? I’ll take you home and get you cleaned up? You’re a mess. What you need is to puke that booze up and drink lots of coffee.”
Steele stole Greyson’s glass of bourbon and chugged it.
Croft cringed. That had to burn. Only a crazy person did shit like that. When Steele didn't even flinch, it was a testament to how sloshed he was.
The man was pickled from the inside out.
“Dante picked you over love. How do you think that makes me feel? I opened my heart and home to him, and he stabbed me in the heart.”
“Okay, back up here. He’s been my brother for thirty plus years. He’s been your boyfriend for weeks. Of course he’s going to pick me. Dante was scared. He’s never loved anyone but us, and now you’re in the mix. This is new to him. You need to cut him a break.”
“No.”
Croft threw some cash down. “Okay, I’ll tell him you don’t love him anymore,” he stated. Pointing at the bartender, he glared. “You call him a cab, or I’ll shut you down for so many violations your head will spin. Included in that will be the big one of you wearing leather outside the privacy of your own home, obviously without underwear and in the summer.”
As he began walking away, Steele called to him. “Does he really love me?” he asked, his eyes filling with tears.
“Do you think I’d be standing inside a gay bar, in the middle of my work day, with media likely outside if my brother didn't? Really, Steele? Think about it.”
The man tried to work it out.
“Come on. You’re going home,” Croft said, dropping the man’s arm over his shoulder.
As he practically carried him to the door, all Croft could hope was that he wouldn’t puke in Emma’s vehicle or on him for that matter.
Outside, Croft heard it.
The clicking.
Well, shit!
He knew that there was the possibility, but he’d just been busted by a reporter, as he left a gay bar, carrying a drunk man to his vehicle.
Yeah, that didn't look good at all.
“Well, good morning, Director Croft,” the man said.
He recognized him from in front of the precinct. It was the reporter who Emma was going to give a one on one to. “Keith Powell, isn't it?”
“Yes, sir. I thought maybe you were going off to work on the case, so I thought I’d follow. When you came in here, I was surprised.”
Croft buckled Steele in. “My friend needed a ride. As you can see, he’s drunk. What’s this going to take to keep it out of the media?” he asked, knowing how the vultures worked.
Keith laughed. “I want interviews on any case that pops up. I want the exclusive, or I pass these photos off to colleagues who handle this sort of thing. I don’t think it will look good for your wife.”
Oh, the man knew how to play it.
This looked very bad. It looked like he was picking up a man for a dalliance during the day behind his wife’s back. “You’re blackmailing a Fed. That’s either genius or crazy.”
“I just want to do my job. You and your wife are the top cops in this town. Just let me get the details first. We’re only talking about leaking me an update here and there, so I can run with it. Who knows? I may be able to dig some dirt up for you.”
Croft sighed. “Deal.” He pulled out his card. “Call me whenever. I’ll help you out, but the information doesn’t go live until we say so.”
“Absolutely. I’ll still have a jump on everyone. Can you tell me about this case?”
“It’s going nowhere.” Croft wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t compromise anything without warning his wife first. “Can I go? He’s going to start puking up whiskey in our ride.”
“Thank you, Director. Since you’re being so accommodating, I’ll delete those photos now, in a sign of good faith.”
The man walked off whistling.
Yeah, he just sold his soul to the devil for Dante. These two had better work it out, or he was going to be very mad.
Wait until Emma found out.
This was going to be interesting.
Getting into his vehicle, he glanced over at Steele Bentley. “Remember when you came into my office and gave me that FBI evidence to help me find the killer?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I owed you a favor for helping me.”
“Okay.”
“We’re even.”
Steele closed his eyes and couldn’t wait to get home.
He really needed to throw up.
~ Chapter Seven ~
Since being back in command of the homicide division, Emma hadn’t had a chance to talk to the man in charge. All she knew was that Captain Ford was smiling a lot more.
That had to mean something.
“So, are you happy you’re back?” she asked, driving the Denali through traffic.
“Hell yeah! I can’t tell you how much. I used to bitch and moan about you detectives driving me insane. Well, being commissioner was a million times worse. When you wouldn’t take the captain position, I knew it was a sign. Being the top cop in Vegas was going to give me a stroke.”
She smiled. “Well, I’m personally glad that you’re back. After working under that homicidal bitch, you’re a pleasure cruise.”
He laughed. “Yeah, the only thing I regret is losing a detective. Sawyer was a pain, but no cop deserves to be gunned down in his own kitchen by someone who was supposed to watch over them.”
Emma agreed.
“So, why did you really turn down the position?” he asked. “This is what everyone longs for once they get the
ir gold shield,” he stated.
“I’m not that ambitious,” she stated. “I like heading home every night to my husband. Running this nuthouse has to be overwhelming. I watch Greyson try and manage the entire FBI building, and I don’t think I could do it. No, I know I couldn’t.”
He doubted that. His detective was damn good at her job. “Your killer is being quiet,” he stated.
“Yeah, at this point in the investigation, we generally have something. Now, we’re just trying our best.”
“It’s only been three days. You’ll get something.”
“I hope so. We have a lot on our shoulders,” Emma said, knowing the man would understand. Chris Ford was privy to the mess that was swirling around them.
“Any word on the other mess dogging you and the husband?” he asked.
“No, everyone’s been quiet. Even Randall Mason hasn’t heard anything. Greyson can only go to so many poker games. We’re living on pins and needles.” That reminded her. “Thank you for butting into my life and getting my husband to talk to me.”
He laughed. “I hope you’re not mad. I hate seeing you two not happy. I’ve been divorced. It sucks.”
Emma prayed that would never happen to her. If it did, she’d surely fall apart.
“It looks like we’re here,” she said, pulling into the dance studio parking lot. “This looks like a place catering to kids,” she admitted, checking out the colors and décor.
“I’ll watch. You handle the interview, Detective. This is your show. I’m just backup.”
Emma headed in, only to find the place empty. There was only one person there, and she was sitting on a couch as she worked on paperwork.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed,” she offered. “We had a death in the family.”
Emma and Chris Ford pulled their badges. “We know. We’re investigating the death of Zara Harris. Can you answer some questions for us …?” She paused, waiting for the introduction.
“Lisa Whittle.”
“Thank you, Ms. Whittle.
The woman stood. “I’ll try the best I can. Come with me to her office. You might want to look around.”
They followed the woman down the hall, and inside the small room, they each took a seat.
“I can’t believe she’s gone.”
Emma started the interview while her field partner checked out the inside of the cramped space. “Were you close with Zara?”
“Yes. She started here when I opened the business. We’ve worked together for many years.” Lisa wiped her eyes. “I can’t believe someone killed her.”
“Did she have anyone here who was bothering her?” Emma inquired, making notes.
“No. That’s how crazy this is. We run a dance studio for kids. It’s more about giving them a safe place to jump around. Our goal isn't to make showgirls out of anyone, but show them confidence.”
“Did all the parents like her?”
“Absolutely. Zara was so sweet and innocent. She had these big blue eyes that just showed the world her kindness. Her husband has to be a mess. I’ve tried calling, but he’s not answering.”
“Speaking of Jordan Harris, how was their relationship?” Emma asked.
“Perfect. She loved him to death. A day didn't go by that she didn't tell us how much she adored him, and how hard he worked. They had a good life, letting her just do what she loved. He was a gem.”
Yeah, their marriage wasn’t perfect.
“When did you see her last?”
“The day before she went missing. When she didn't come into work, I immediately called her house. I got Jordan, and he said she wasn’t there. I didn't know she was missing. I would have gone out and searched for my friend.”
Interesting.
He didn't tell her that his wife was missing.
Captain Ford gave her a look, signaling he caught it too.
“What did she like to do in her spare time?”
Lisa thought about it. “Oh, she was into being a wife. She’d hang out at home, cooking, cleaning, and thinking about kids.”
“So, she wanted them?”
Lisa nodded enthusiastically. “Her husband didn't, but she hoped to convince him. After all, she loved being around children.”
After thanking the woman, Emma left her card. On the way out, Chris leaned over to spill his impressions. “In that office, there wasn’t one picture of her husband. That’s suspicious to me,” he stated.
Emma agreed. On her desk, there was one of her husband. In his office, there were a quite a few of her.
“This woman doesn’t add up,” stated Ford.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
* * *
In the office, Paris and Tess were busily working away to gain access to the computers. For joint ones, the husbands had given them passwords, but the tablets were another story.
At that moment, Paris was running a software program the FBI used to decrypt such things.
“You smell really good, Tessie,” he said out of the blue.
She leaned closer to kiss him on the cheek. “So do you, my sexy doctor.”
“It’s very distracting to be sitting this close to you,” Paris admitted. When Tessa’s hand went to his lap, he watched it slide across his dress pants. While he couldn’t feel it, his body began to react.
“Would you be mad at me if I stole a kiss?” Tessa asked. “Technically, I’m off the clock, so I’m not breaking any rules.”
Paris couldn’t breathe. Her lips were so very close to his, and he really didn't care what anyone thought. He’d nearly lost this, and that’s all that really mattered.
“One kiss, Tessie, my sweet,” he murmured. “Make it count.”
She gave him what he wanted. Behind closed doors, in the police headquarters, Tessa Brass’s mouth made love to his. There was so much heat and passion, that she was sure people in the bullpen could feel it.
Paris fell into the mating of lips. The way she easily pulled him under helped him realize how damn lucky he truly was. This was absolute heaven.
God, he never wanted it to end.
Slowly, she pulled away, trying to catch her breath. When his blue eyes met her green ones, there was so much love conveyed there. “I always want you to remember that,” she whispered. “Every second of every day, that’s how I want to kiss you.”
He swallowed.
“Now, we should get to work. When we get home tonight, I’m going to show you what else lives in me.”
Oh, he hoped she would.
Paris gulped from his water bottle, earning a giggle from the woman beside him. What he could feel on his body was so taut, that he honestly felt like he would shatter apart.
He loved her more than anything.
As he began working on the information, Tessa flipped through the files. While grunt work sucked, it was so much better with him.
“I miss being your partner,” she said.
He glanced over. “I miss it too, Tess. This was always what I dreaded. When we’re together, I can focus. When you’re out alone with another man, I’m a holy mess.”
“Would you feel better if I had a female partner?” she asked.
He laughed. “Hell yeah.”
“I’ll ask the director.”
“Tessa, you don’t have to do that. I trust you.” God, he wanted this to happen in the worst way. Paris never felt such horrible jealousy, than when she was with Joe Longfellow.
“Let’s focus on work. We’ll worry about it later,” she promised.
Paris focused on the tablet in front of him. Once it was decoded, he immediately went into the history. He didn't believe that Polly Anderson would be so sneaky to wipe it clean. After all, her husband had no access to the device.
“Anything?” Tessa asked, getting ready to make notes.
“I see one thing that pops out. This tablet was used a lot to access a site.”
He rattled off the name. “What do you think ‘Perfect Indiscretions’ is?”
“Sounds like a ki
nky lingerie company. Maybe we should try it out,” she offered, earning the most amazing grin from Paris.
“Hell yeah to that.”
Tessa slid over and logged onto the couple’s desktop in hopes of finding the same site there. When she found none, Tessa glanced over. “Whatever it is, she didn't try to access it on their joint computer.”
“Interesting,” Paris muttered, focusing on the next tablet in the stack. Once in it, he started typing the site into the browser. Immediately, it popped up, signaling the site had indeed been frequented.
“Pay dirt.”
Tessa handed her fiancé the last device. When he searched the history, his face said it all.
“I think we have a definite link. Now we just need to do some background research on this company.”
“You did good work, Paris,” she said, dropping a chaste kiss to his cheek. “As always, I’m proud of you.”
“Proud enough to wear something really trashy and get me all hot and bothered?” Paris asked.
Tessa snorted. “Possibly.”
He grinned. “Let’s blow this wide open.”
* * *
“So, are you ready for our night out?” Curtis asked his field partner.
Brynn Westmore laughed outrageously. “Oh, I certainly am. I went shopping, got my outfit, and even swung in to get a sexy pedicure.”
Curtis grinned wickedly. “I can’t wait to see it. Are we going to paint the town red?”
Brynn winked. “Hell yes, we are. You don’t come off being a probee just every day. I’m going to take you to this really awesome steak place, and then we are going to dance the night away.”
“Will there be booze and debauchery?”
She laughed. “If you like.”
“Oh, I absolutely like.” The idea of a tipsy Brynn had his heart pumping. “I just want to tell you how grateful I am to have you back in my life.”
She leaned over to offer him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad too, Curtis. This is the happiest time of my life. I never want it to end. You were so right about us taking it slow, not assuming anything, and just having fun. I’ve never been more relaxed.”
Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5) Page 17
