Curtis glanced up. “I can’t open it. If I do, he’s going to know we’re onto him. Brynn needs to use Tessa’s tablet.”
She stood, explaining where it was. “I’ll run home and grab it,” she stated.
“I’ll go,” Curtis offered.
“No, you’ll sit your ass in that chair and track that man. We have very little time. Brynn is going to have to run this errand,” Croft said.
Curtis didn't like that at all. “Be careful, honey.”
She laughed, pointing at her gun. “Thank you for your concern, but this isn't my first day on the job.”
Emma handed her a slice of pizza on her way to the door. “Hurry back! I think we’re close! I can feel it!”
Brynn did just that.
Curtis sat there, staring at the door.
“Hey! Are you with us?”
“I’m just worried,” he began, but was immediately cut off by his boss.
“Worry later. We have a killer to catch. I need to know why he picked that motel twice. Was it because of the shitty security or because he felt safe there.”
Paris spoke up, “It’s going to be the latter. He studied it, just like he tracked his prey. That’s going to be an easy spot to slip in and out of unnoticed. The killer is going to be focused during the crimes. The last thing he’s going to want is to have to look over his shoulder for us.”
“Then we need to focus on that place. It screams suspicious,” stated Emma. “When that happens, it makes me want to play Pandora and open the box.”
“What’s the owner’s name?” Paris asked, getting ready to do some legwork.
“Mildred Myers. Find me everything on her,” Croft demanded.
It didn't take long. In minutes, Paris had her photo on the screen and data scrolling alongside it. “She married young, and stayed married until her husband died.”
“How did he die?” Emma asked.
“Accidental shooting.”
“What about kids?” Croft inquired.
“It seems she has one child who is alive, and a daughter who is deceased,” Paris stated.
Curtis was trying to keep up, but he was off his game. His thoughts were all focused on his wife, and her empty spot at the table.
“How did she die?” Emma asked.
They searched, trying to find the information. Finally, Tessa pulled something up. “It was a while ago,” she stated. “Twenty years ago, her body was found in a car. She’d been raped and murdered.”
She sent the news clipping to the big screen. They all read over it, checking the details.
Greyson noticed the similarities. “When you put her picture beside her mother’s, they look alike. Well, what Mildred would have looked like in her youth.”
They all agreed.
“Get me the son’s name. I want it in the next twenty minutes, and everything you can find on him.”
The team went into overdrive.
The boss was on a trail.
Emma sat down to begin going through the pile of papers. After a few minutes, she looked confused. “This is weird.”
“What?” Greyson asked, sliding his chair closer to hers. “What did you find?”
Emma showed him the paper. “We weren’t the only people Nia was stalking. She had it in for her co-worker.” Pointing at the details, she knew when he picked up what she was alluding to.
“She was following Keith Powell. Here, she lists what he was wearing, eating, and when he left his desk.”
“Look at her notes,” Croft stated.
‘He is off to see them again. It’s unfair. He’s a hack and couldn’t write his way out of a paper bag. I’m going to find what he has on the Crofts. No one would work with him without there being something there. I hate his guts.’
“Wow, she was loopy,” Tessa offered. “It’s a special kind of crazy to stalk a co-worker.”
Paris shrugged. “I’m quite sane, and I’ve been tempted to follow you around.”
Croft laughed. “Yeah, preaching to the choir, son.”
Emma ignored them.
She had a feeling brewing in her gut.
“We all need to keep digging. Let’s go through these papers. What if Nia was killed because she saw something?”
Paris contemplated it. “It would be why the MO changed, and the main reason she didn't fit the other women’s characteristics.”
They may be onto something.
“Nia Howard may have seen her killer well before he took her out.”
* * *
Brynn made good time. Pulling into her complex, she noticed that it was pretty vacant. Most of the people who lived there were gone for the day.
By now, they were all at their offices, working like drones as they tried to survive the daily grind.
Hopping out of the Denali, she headed toward the door to her apartment. Once down the hall, she placed her key in the knob.
Something was off. It was darker than usual. The corridor to their place was generally brighter than this.
Instinct kicked in as she heard the telltale creak. Immediately, Brynn turned to defend herself.
Only, it was too late.
A hand swung out, knocking her off her feet.
She saw stars, right before he slammed her head against the door.
Brynn struggled to reach for her sidearm, but her limbs wouldn’t respond. The laughter filled her ears as she could hear her door being opened.
Her chance at escape was done.
Then the world spun before going completely black.
He dragged her inside, being cognizant not to touch too much. For now, he needed to get her undressed and on the bed. If he didn't move fast, he could risk her waking up.
“You may have not wanted this fantasy, Detective, but it looks like you’re going to get it anyway. I find it amusing that you tried to catch me in a trap, but instead fell in yourself. I saw you coming a mile away.”
He roughly dragged her toward the bedroom.
“Before this is over, you and I will have so much fun. Then, I’m getting out of here. You’re going to be the last fantasy here in Vegas. Next, I’m heading to a bigger city, like New York.”
Hefting her to the bed, he pulled off her boots. “I think I’ll take your gun now too. It’s time we set the scene. Your profile says you like it rough. Lucky for you, so do I.”
With that, he got to work.
He was going to give her so much pleasure and pain. Then, he would take her life.
Oh, she would get him off, but that was only the half of it. Because of their stunt, he was mad.
They’d screwed with the wrong man.
Now the detective had to pay.
* * *
When Christopher Ford strolled in, he could see the team frenetically scouring through papers. Files were all over the place as they began pulling more and more from the pile.
“Anything?” he asked, taking a seat.
“Not yet,” Croft said, glancing down at his watch. They’d been working for fifteen minutes, and still they only found more useless ramblings of a stalker reporter.
“Need any help?” he asked.
Emma brought him up to speed, and then pointed at the pile. “Get reading.”
Just as Greyson was about to ask his team about Mildred Myer’s son, his phone rang.
“Croft.”
“It’s Steele. We finished the autopsy.”
He put him on speaker.
“She was worked over good. The sex before her death did so much damage, that had she lived, she’s never be the same again. We’re talking internal hemorrhaging.”
“What else?” Emma asked.
“Her throat was slit while she was alive. I examined the edges of the cuts, and there was capillary blood flow.”
He was definitely escalating.
“I also found one other thing,” Steele stated. “On her left shoe was a fingerprint. I sent it to your techs an hour ago. They should have something.”
This made them h
appy.
“I’ll call there next,” stated Croft, disconnecting the call.
Paris spoke up before he could dial Max. “I found the son’s name. It’s Felix Myers. There’s nothing online about him, or in the system. At one point, right after his sister’s death, he disappeared.”
“Find him,” stated Croft. “Now! He’s our freshest lead.”
They began working.
Greyson pulled out his phone. When his head tech answered, he practically barked into the phone. “Who did the print belong to?”
The man paused. “Oh, the one Doctor Bentley sent over?”
“Yes, son. Hurry!”
“It matches a juvenile record that was sealed years ago. I can’t get into it.”
“Send me the information. I’ll get it taken care of,” stated Croft.
He hung up the phone and pushed back from his chair. “I have to make a call. I’ll be right back.”
They all watched him leave.
“He’s stirred up,” Ford stated, flipping through more papers.
Emma knew why. He wanted this killer caught in the worst way, then he could focus on Randall Mason, and the other victims wrapped up in their personal mess.
Curtis got up from his chair and began pacing. He was edgy and felt off. Brynn had been gone for twenty minutes, and they only lived five minutes away. Vegas traffic at this time shouldn’t be bad at all.
“It’s okay,” Emma said, seeing his edginess.
The entire team was stressed out.
“She’ll be back.”
Curtis trusted them. Emma and Greyson were damn good at their job. They’d never let one of their people get hurt.
Pulling up the ‘Perfect Indiscretion’ website, Curtis decided to focus on something else. If he didn't, he was going to go crazy. He might not be able to open it, but he could check out the location it was sent from.
Immediately, he noticed that the ISP was different. This message originated from another place. Maybe the killer had screwed up.
Going to work, he tried to find the area.
Croft came back in, and the look on his face said everything. “You’re not going to believe this, but we have our killer.”
Emma glanced over. “Who?”
“The file was sealed because someone was accused of his sister’s rape and death. It seemed he pleaded guilty and time was served in a juvenile facility.”
“Felix Myers?” Emma asked.
“We have our killer.” Greyson pointed at Paris. “Pull up this case number,” he stated, reading it out to him.
He did what his boss wanted.
When the man’s face popped up on the screen, Emma gasped.
In fact, they all did.
Croft got angry. “Nia Howard knew her killer all right. She’d been following him. The murdering bastard has been right under our noses all along, getting information from our team.”
They all stared at Keith Powell’s picture. In it, he was younger, but it was definitely him. The ginger colored hair gave him away. Now, they knew why he was picking brunettes.
He’d murdered and raped his own sister. That was his fantasy.
Chris Ford held up a piece of paper. “Listen to this,” he said, reading aloud.
‘I don’t trust him. When he wasn’t at his desk, I snooped. I found an address scribbled down, and I Googled it. The place is some shitty motel out in the bad part of town. I somehow doubt that Greyson Croft is meeting him there. Something is up. ‘I have to do more research on ‘The Hideaway’.’
Ford pointed at the date on the top of the paper. “It was two days before you found Reanne Morris there. There is no way in hell that man knew the killer was going to dump a body there unless he’s the one behind all this.”
They had enough proof. Now came the hard part- catching him.
At that moment, Curtis stood, his chair falling back with a crash. “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!”
They all looked over.
“The killer sent the message and I just checked the ISP addy. It’s not from the café. I pulled the address.”
“Where is it located?” Emma asked.
In his heart, Curtis knew the sickening truth. “It’s right around our neighborhood. Brynn’s been gone too long. He’s found her.”
With that, they all raced out. There was no time to waste. One of their own was in danger.
She’d fallen into a trap.
One they’d set.
Now, this was all on them.
* * *
When she woke, her face was killing her. It felt like she’d been hit with a sledgehammer.
Yet, that wasn’t the worst of her situation.
At that moment, she was tied spread eagle on her and Curtis’s bed, barely dressed. All that she had on was her bra and panties.
This wasn’t going to be good.
She could feel it.
Struggling, she tried to get free, and then she began screaming for help.
His laughter filled the room
When he entered, she stared at him. He was completely naked, and aroused.
Oh shit!
This was getting worse and worse.
Brynn began praying, and then hoping that Curtis would freak out at how long she was gone.
Someone had to notice.
Her team wouldn’t let her down, would they?
“Did you really think this would work?” Keith Powell asked. “Did Greyson Croft really believe that I wouldn’t recognize you? How many times did you stand beside his wife when I talked to her?”
Brynn honestly believed she’d gone unnoticed.
BIG TACTICAL ERROR on her and the team’s behalf.
“Set me free, Keith. We can talk this through and get you help.”
He laughed more.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, trying to stall for time. At some point, her little mini-Croft would look at his watch and wonder.
“Doing what? All I’m actually doing is giving women their fantasies. I believe that we should all have fun. Life is too miserable and cold not to indulge in what you like.”
She was getting sick.
“You see, my sister wanted to have sex with me. When we were teens, she talked me into it. I thought she was crazy, but it was amazing. There is nothing more taboo than that. Do you have any brothers, Detective?”
“No, I don’t,” she offered, trying to stay calm. All she had to do was relate to him while she kept him talking. In training, they said this would work.
“After about three years of carrying on a secret relationship, she decided we were done. The fantasy was over for her, and then for me too.”
Brynn watched him. As he spoke about it, he was getting more and more excited.
Jesus! Where was her team?
“How could she turn it off like that? We’d crossed a line, and I wasn’t going to stop. I craved it so much that it became all I thought about. So, I followed her to her friend’s house, jumped out, and took her.”
This could only end one way. “She died, didn't she?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I killed her during the struggle. It was an accident, but I couldn’t help it. As I was having sex with her, my hands went to her throat. I just squeezed and squeezed,” he said, sitting beside her on the bed. “I just wanted her to stop struggling so I could fuck her. Eventually, she stopped breathing.”
Brynn wanted to vomit as he ran his hand down her body, caressing her skin.
“I paid for my sins. I lost my mother. To this day, she won’t speak to me. I also damaged a piece of me. Since that day, sex has never been the same. I can’t have a normal relationship, so I dedicated myself to fulfilling fantasies.”
“Like the ones you had with your sister?” Brynn asked, trying to keep him talking.
“Yes. I want it to never end.”
So, with each woman, he was recreating that ultimate sexual encounter. Yeah, he was a sick, sick man.
“You’re killing people, Keith. That’s wrong. I think
you know that.”
“Yes, but in the end, they die with a smile on their faces. In fact, you’re going to be happy too. I’ll give you what your profile says, and then I’ll get off.” He stroked himself, and she began fighting to pull her wrists and ankles free.
“No!” she shouted, when he went to touch her again.
“You cops were pretty stupid. Greyson Croft fell for it, and now it’s going to cost him.”
Brynn was thinking about Curtis.
Oh god! Her poor husband!
“I hope your profile was accurate, Brynn. If not, what’s coming is going to suck for you. Think of it as a way to either reward you for being honest about what you like in the bedroom, or punishment for being tricky.
The panic welled up.
He stood, picking up his belt from the floor. “You’ve been a very bad girl. Now, someone needs to punish you. I say we start with the beating part of the fantasy. Then I’ll kiss your boo-boos and make you all better.”
With that, he raised his arm and let the belt crash down on her bare skin.
Brynn screamed in pain, her body bowing as welts immediately appeared across her torso.
“One,” he stated. “Only forty nine more before I rape you.”
He continued as her wails of pain filled the air.
Brynn needed a miracle.
A big one.
* * *
Flying through the streets, the four people in the Navigator were all getting ready to race into Brynn’s apartment. All they could hope was that she was still there.
If Keith Powell took her somewhere, they were screwed.
They’d never find her in time.
Curtis wanted to be sick as the FBI tracked the GPS on her phone. It wasn’t moving. Hopefully, Keith Powell didn't dump her purse.
As hard as he tried, the anger was welling up in him, as he fought to keep it inside. He hated the world in that moment. Leading the list of people who enraged him was his boss.
They’d let him down.
They’d let Brynn down.
“When we get in there, I’ll go in first,” Greyson said, knowing he was the best shot in the group. If he had to kill the man holding Brynn hostage, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5) Page 44
