That was easier said than done, and he knew it.
They shook hands.
Bradly rolled away, and Paris didn’t feel any better.
In fact, he felt worse.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Tony Mays’s
Warehouse
When they made the call, the dispatcher tried to get any information they could. Emma simply sounded frantic and tried not to use her normal voice.
It was the best she could do.
All she could hope was the panic in her tone would do the job. Now, it was all about distracting the nine-one-one operator into not asking her name.
Since it was recorded, she didn’t want to be recognized or have this on public record. Greyson and Dimitri had more distinguishable voices, so that meant she was going to take one for the team.
As they stood there, outside their warehouse, the police began arriving at the location in droves. Apparently, the operator believed Emma’s hysteria.
It was amusing since they had a front row seat. From their building, they could watch the show.
One vehicle slowed down and headed their way. It was easy to see them through the untinted windows. The smiles on their faces vanished.
Oh, they knew who had pulled this call.
Well, shit.
They had some angry cops on their doorstep.
As the vehicle rolled to a stop, the last two people Emma and Greyson wanted to see stepped out. They last two weeks had been pretty quiet.
Honestly, he really believed that Detective Heath Spencer had given up on trying to pin Mace’s death on him.
Apparently, by the look on his face, that wasn’t the case. He looked just as bitchy, and his partner, Lester Lucas, did too.
“Well, well, well. What are the chances that we have an anonymous call about a body at a warehouse just over there, and look who we find standing here? I wonder if that’s a coincidence?” Heath asked.
Emma didn’t say anything.
She knew better than to take the bait.
When Heath moved toward her, both men stepped in front of her body to protect her.
“Awww, isn’t that cozy. You two are keeping the goose that laid the golden inheritance safe. I bet you’d do anything for her, wouldn’t you?”
Neither man spoke.
“So, Emma, tell me about the body you found.”
She shrugged. “The only thing I can tell you about the body is he’s a cop, he’s on our property, and my husband is calculating how to break your bones into little tiny pieces.”
It took him a second, but he got it.
“Yeah, I’m not afraid.”
Dimitri, out of the blue, shouted “BOO!”
Both men jumped and their hands went for their sidearms.
“You both are on camera,” he said, pointing to the one above them. “I’d be careful. Right now, you look like you were about to go for them and hurt us. That’s a lawsuit in the making.”
They glared at Dimitri.
Greyson found that amusing. “Now you look like you’re scared shitless. Did you just piss yourself, Detective? If you’d like, I can have my tailor come over and have you fitted for something a little more permanent.”
“Did you just threaten me?”
“Nope. I’m promising that if you come near my wife, I’ll find a way to get you busted down to beat cop—for the rest of your life. I bet the LVPD would love a lawsuit—a big fat one where you end up doing paperwork for the accounting division.”
That shut him up.
“Why did you go bad, Emma?” he asked, focusing on her.
She knew his game. If he thought she was the weakest link in the family, he had another thing coming. She was far from the that. Truthfully, she was the only one who could hold both Greyson and their Russian killer back.
That spoke of her power.
The man was pushing his luck, and here was the proof. The Russian didn’t like him, and Emma didn’t doubt he’d be taking a concrete nap if she blinked an eye.
“One man’s bad is another man’s justice, Heath. You should think about that before you start labeling the LVPD as the good guys.”
He stared at her.
“Here’s a spoiler to this story. They aren’t. In the end, the good guy always wins, and that might be why you keep turning up on the losing side, my friend.”
“You’re no friend of mine.”
“You didn’t say that when you asked us for that loan last week,” Dimitri stated.
The man looked horrified.
“Wasn’t the cash enough?” Greyson asked, getting where Dimitri was taking this.
If the man was wired…
Yeah, he was screwed.
“I didn’t come to you for money!”
“It was all small bills. You said something about helping us out and you’d keep it a secret,” Emma stated.
The man sputtered when his partner stared at him. “He’s full of shit, Lester. They know I’m recording this.”
Yeah, they did.
“Did you know it’s illegal in Vegas to record a person without their consent?” Dimitri asked.
“Not if one of them is a cop and has a paper from the FBI authorizing it,” Heath said.
Greyson smiled ferally. “Thank you for that. Now I know who is gunning for us. Have a good day, Detective. Your body is that way, not here.”
“How do you know that?” Heath said. “I thought you just said you didn’t call it in.”
Greyson started laughing. “Well, maybe the coroner van outside that warehouse has something to do with it,” he offered. “I mean, I’ve been retired around four months, but I believe the process is, you get a call, a cop shows up to investigate, they call in the ME, and then you remove the body.”
The man went red.
“Come on,” Lester said, heading back toward their ride. His partner was getting all worked up, and that wasn’t a good thing.
Emma laughed her ass off. “That was quite possibly the funniest shit I’ve seen all day. You totally emasculated him.”
“Yeah, it was fun.”
“Heads up,” Dimitri said as a black Lincoln headed their way. This was new. He didn’t know who would be driving toward them.
“The plates scream cop,” he warned.
Emma recognized the vehicle. It was the one the commissioner used, and sometimes the captains of the varying precincts if they were visiting a scene.
Chris had used it a few times, but he thought it was pretentious.
When it came to a stop, a man got out of the back, and he was wearing a captain’s uniform.
He had medals.
Stripes.
Bars.
And a ‘kiss my ass’ grin plastered on his face.
Emma gasped the second recognition dawned. This was going to be bad.
She could already see it coming.
Greyson didn’t know what the hell was going on but his wife went tense beside him. That was odd.
She was generally as cool as a cucumber. Who was this cop, and why was he approaching them?
Dimitri even went on alert beside him.
“You seem to be lost,” he said.
“Oh, I know right where I am, don’t I, Emma Starling?” he said, staring at the woman.
She couldn’t speak.
She wanted to throw up, and it had nothing to do with the possibility of being pregnant.
Shit!
Shit!
Shit!
Greyson turned to look at his wife.
She’d gone pale white, and that was saying a lot since she was pretty pale to begin with.
“Who is he?” Greyson asked.
“Thomas Christ,” she managed to get out. All she could think was this was bad.
Really.
Really.
BAD!
“And who the hell is that?” he asked, focusing on the man before him. He was tall, dark, and reminded Greyson of someone familiar.
Himsel
f.
“I’m the new captain of the homicide department,” he said, smiling at Emma. “Oh, and I used to date your wife when she was a simple beat cop in Philly.”
The world stopped turning.
It felt like it screeched to a halt.
Greyson stared at his wife but spoke to the stranger. “Are you now?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her.
In that moment, Emma knew the shit had just gotten real.
Vegas was screwed if this man was now playing the law, and her life…it was about to become one hell of a mess.
A complicated one.
Chapter Thirteen
A ll the way home in the car, Greyson wouldn’t even talk to her. Honestly, Emma was damn glad. She knew her husband, and nothing he would want to say would be pleasant or kind.
He was pissed.
Well, so was she.
Emma had walked away from that life for a reason. Being a cop in Philly sucked three ways to Sunday. She left because of Gage’s death, but she left for so many other reasons too.
She didn’t fit in.
Her heart wasn’t in it.
And Thomas Christ was an asshole.
The last person she ever thought she’d see in Vegas, her Vegas, was this man, and now here he was.
Well, this was going to make a mess.
“What do you want me to do?” Dimitri asked, as he drove them through the busy Vegas Traffic.
“Take Emma home. You and I are going out to do some interviews at the strip clubs.”
“I can go…”
He shut her right down. “NO, you can’t, and NO, you won’t.”
His voice said it all.
Greyson was on the verge of a breakdown. He was one step away from saying everything that was bouncing around in his head, and none of it was marriage preserving.
He wanted to rage at his wife, and that was ALWAYS a bad idea. So he needed to put space between them.
Lots of it.
That was more for her than him.
“Okay, so I’ll take Emma home,” Dimitri said, staring up at the woman in the rearview mirror. He wasn’t one to wade into marital fights, but with this one…
He was compelled and he would once he got the man alone. He was pissed, but there was a fine line.
Croft was at it.
“Stay inside,” Greyson muttered when they pulled into the driveway and in front of their home. “We wouldn’t want you getting tangled up with your old lover.”
It killed him to say it.
Emma opened her mouth and Dimitri shook his head. She took that as a sign that he was going to kick the man’s ass later.
Emma hoped so.
That was a low blow.
When her cave-Croft was acting a fool, there was only one way to handle it.
As Emma walked across the driveway, she turned and stood in front of their house as the men pulled away.
Dimitri waved.
Greyson didn’t even look at her.
It hurt Emma’s heart, but she knew she had to let him calm down. If he didn’t, there would only be a fight.
A huge one that neither side would win.
She got it.
He’d been blindsided.
Well, she had too.
While she didn’t agree with the issue he had with the whole situation, she wasn’t going to have a disagreement with him in front of anyone.
This was a private matter.
Later, she’d kick his stubborn ass.
Oh, it was due.
Greyson knew his friend was waiting to say something. Only, he wasn’t in the mood. Was he being ridiculous?
Yes.
Did it matter?
No.
The last thing any man wanted to think about was his wife cuddled up to another man. Here, that man had to be the enemy too. It was as if Fate found his life some ironic joke.
“You realize you’re being a dick, right?” Dimitri stated out of the blue.
“Shut up.”
Dimitri waited a few minutes.
“Well, you really are.”
Greyson felt his blood pressure shooting through the roof at his words.
He was well aware, but controlling it was another thing. Greyson Croft was out of control.
“Well, what do you care if you drive her right to another man? Hey, did you notice you and that Thomas Christ dude look alike? That must be Emma’s type.”
He stared over at him. “Are you trying to get shot? Is that your plan? Let me be the first to tell you that it’s stupid and dangerous to bait me.”
“I’m just saying that the similarity is uncanny. Only, he’s not going gray. You must be the uptight doppelgänger.”
“Dimitri.”
“When she divorces you, I’m going to marry her. I just thought I’d throw that out there…AGAIN.”
“STOP! Okay? Just STOP! I don’t need you riding my ass about this one, okay? I’m worked up enough!”
Dimitri let it go.
For about five seconds.
“Why?”
“Did she marry me because she didn’t marry him? Was I the replacement?”
He laughed.
“How is this funny?”
“There is ONLY one Greyson Croft. He’s douche-y, over bearing, and acting like a total asshole over this.”
Croft glared at him.
“Well, pot, it looks like the kettle has a shitty opinion.”
Dimitri laughed.
“Okay, how about this? How many women have you slept with in your past?”
He closed his mouth.
“Even if Emma was going to marry him, which he didn’t say that, and he would have to blow your gasket, she married you. That’s what matters.”
“Is it?”
“What else has you freaked out?”
“She never talks about her life in Philly. I’ve met a couple people she worked with, but that’s it. When I bring it up, or offer to go back for a reunion, she tells me that part of her life is dead. Then I meet a man who dated her, who looks like me, and who is clearly a cop.”
“I’m going to say something, and don’t freak out.”
“Okay.”
“She’s beautiful. I’m willing to bet she dated A LOT of men.”
Greyson stared at him. “This is not helping. Let me just stew in my own juices.”
“Bad idea.”
“Okay, Mom. The fact that you don’t date anyone but hookers is proof you shouldn’t be telling me how to run my marriage.”
It got quiet.
“Okay, Mr. Croft.”
Now he felt bad.
“Dimitri.”
“No, you’re right. It’s none of my business. If you want to screw up your life, toss away your marriage, and act like an asshole, well, then that’s on you. For the record, I did fall in love once, and she was killed. I know what it’s like to lose something you care a great deal about. I was trying to be a friend. That’s all. I’m not going to be your whipping boy.”
He stared at him.
That was new.
Dimitri never told anyone about his past.
Now he felt even worse, if that were possible. What the hell was wrong with him?
“I’m sorry.”
He was ignored.
“We’re here,” Dimitri finally said.
The man got out and rounded the vehicle to take a protective stance behind his friend—or boss.
“You’re going to put that face on, aren’t you?” he asked, knowing he crossed a line.
Dimitri ignored him.
Sometimes, a person had to figure it out on their own.
“Okay, I’m a dick. I get it. Are you going to be pissed at me all day?” he asked.
“Are you going to be angry at Emma for absolutely no reason?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“No.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
“You realize she only runs half this kingdom, right?” Greyson said.
“Y
eah, and it’s the much nicer, calmer, and happier half. That’s where I want to stay when you screw it to Hell and back.”
He’d made his point.
“I’m not the only douchebag in this family.”
Oddly, Dimitri had heard that before.
* * * G r e y s o n C r o f t * * *
Terrace Glen
Emma didn’t want to go inside. If she did, and anyone talked to her, she might cry. So instead, she wandered around the back of the house to where the caterer and the decorator were setting up the stuff for the wedding tomorrow.
It looked amazing.
Kat and Steele had a vision, and they’d made it come to life. There were more roses than she’d ever seen in her lifetime. The garden, despite the time of the year, had come to life.
It was gorgeous.
Steele was moving around the chairs, giving the staff some directions. When he saw her, he waved and headed her way.
“Emma, honey! Are you okay? You look upset.”
“Just a minor fight with the caveman. You know how that goes.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m marrying his clone. That sounds so weird when I say it. I can’t believe in a few months, I’ll be getting hitched.”
“I’m so happy that you’re better, Steele.”
“Well, I’m not better, but I’m on my way.”
“No sex?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
Emma wrapped her arm around his waist and they began moving through the flowers. “Kat is going to be so happy. Where is she?” Emma asked.
“Inside puking. This time it’s not morning sickness but nerves,” he admitted.
Emma got it. She’d been worked up when she got married too. Now she had agreed to do it all over again and in front of the entire city.
They’d probably want to televise it.
That’s how sick they were in Vegas.
“Did you get those pictures I sent you?” she asked.
“Yeah, I did. Someone didn’t die peacefully,” he stated. “Whoever took care of your victim was angry.”
“Like a mob man screwed over angry?” she asked.
Lost Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 2) Page 24
