Dimitri had him face the wall, and he patted him down. He pulled his gun, the one tucked into a holster at his hip, and placed it beside his own on his back.
“I’ll get that back, right? The LVPD frowns upon us losing our guns.”
“You can have it back when you leave,” Dimitri stated. “If you leave.”
That said it all.
Riley tried to remain calm. He focused on Emma, who was sitting beside her husband. She was calm and smiling. He took that as a sign.
“Okay. That works,” Riley offered, as he tried to move toward the Crofts.
“Wait! We aren’t done.”
“Uh, what’s left? A strip search?”
He stared at him.
“I was only kidding.”
“You aren’t my type, Detective.”
Then Dimitri took out a box and scanned the man. It came up clean.
“He’s good.”
Dimitri led Riley toward the table. “Have a seat and keep your hands where I can see them. I get trigger happy when people move too fast.”
The man did as he was told.
He didn’t doubt the Crofts’ bodyguard would kill him. Riley had done his research on him too. He didn’t trust the man at all. All he could hope was Greyson had him under control.
“What did you want to talk about?” Emma asked, getting this show on the road. They had work to do on this case, and she’d like to get to bed at some point tonight.
“Vegas.”
“You went through a lot of work to get my attention. Now you have it. Make it worth our time.”
Riley was nervous.
He was in a room with two killers. While he believed, Emma was a good cop, at one time, he didn’t doubt that everything he’d heard and researched on the two men was absolutely correct.
He was scared shitless.
“I want to help you.”
Dimitri took a spot standing behind Emma and Greyson. He wanted to watch the man in case he lunged for either of them.
“Why?” Greyson asked. “You’re a cop, and I’m the head of the mob in Vegas.”
“Yeah, so I hear.”
Greyson waited. “Why?” he asked again.
Riley sighed. “I came here to make a difference. When I left LA, it was because I felt helpless, and I’m feeling that again. Yesterday, I watched a cop shoot an unarmed man. I watched the commissioner cover it up. That’s not why I came here, and that’s not why I chose to risk my life every day as a cop.”
Emma got it.
She had worn that badge, and Las Vegas had a way of frustrating the shit out of you—thus the reason they were wearing the title of criminals.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Greyson stated. “Now does it?”
“You’re a vigilante.”
He laughed.
“You are. I know you’re helping people. I have some contacts on the seedier side. The word on the street is you help people when they come to this club, so I’m coming here to ask for your assistance.”
Emma didn’t speak. This was Greyson’s rodeo. He wore the weight of being the head of the family, and she would support him no matter what he decided.
“What kind of help do you need?” he asked, intrigued by the entire thing.
“I want to clean up the LVPD.”
Greyson and Dimitri found that as funny as hell. They knew that when you cut off one head, two more grew back. Look at the proof.
They neutered Commissioner Raye, only to get Thomas Christ doing the dirty work. Before all of that, Booker died, and the next mess showed up. That mess died, and Raye and Christ appeared.
This was a nightmare, a circle, and it would never end.
“If you’re smart, you’ll pack your bags and head out of this shithole,” Greyson stated. “Vegas will swallow you whole and leave you without a soul.”
Both Emma and Dimitri stared at Greyson. They knew he was talking from personal experience.
“It already has. I think that point may be moot.”
“Okay, so in exchange for our help, what are you willing to give us? Surely, you’ve heard what an asshole I am.”
“I’ve heard you want to take down Raye.”
Oh, he did.
“I don’t need you.”
“You need help with saving the clients you pick up along the way, and I’ll be that person,” he offered. “I studied all of Emma’s cases. She was a good cop. They’re running her name through the mud to hurt you.”
He was aware.
“I’ll give you the information you need, and in exchange, you promise me that you’ll help me get rid of the people who are trying to bury all the good cops out there. There are a few still on the force.”
Greyson thought about it.
“Emma? What do you think?” he asked.
“What do you have?” she asked. “I know that you had to come here with something for us.”
He did.
He opened the file he’d had in his hand. “I have the autopsy reports for both Dalton Harding and Tony Mays.”
He slid them across the table to Emma.
She picked them up.
“He was tortured.”
“Yeah, he was,” stated Riley. “The ME said that he was tied down, tortured, and bled out.”
“There was no blood at the warehouse.”
“No, and that’s where the dirt comes in. There is a location somewhere that he was killed, but we haven’t found it. We also found traces of petroleum on him.”
That was curious.
“He was put in a black garbage bag and buried,” Dimitri offered. “I’ve seen it before. That’s where the petroleum comes into play. Generally, if you want the victim to disappear, you leave him au natural. That way Nature has her way with them.”
They stared at him.
“Or so I’ve read on the internet.”
Emma and Greyson didn’t laugh, but they knew he didn’t do that kind of research. That was Dimitri’s present knowledge. They were sure Dimitri had used that technique at some point in his past.
“So who killed him, who buried him, and then dug him up?”
Riley slid over some notes.
“These belong to Heath,” Emma stated. “I know he didn’t give you these,” she offered.
“No, he didn’t. I stole them.”
They stared at him.
“What? Like any of you three can judge me. I photocopied them while he and Lester were at lunch. I put the originals back.”
Honestly, Emma didn’t care.
She needed to get all the information if they were going to help solve this.
Emma read them over.
Greyson watched his wife work.
“What? I can tell something is bothering you.”
He was right.
“Okay, just hear me out. Dalton was killed, he was buried, and then he was uncovered to be placed in the warehouse.”
“The killer wanted him to be found.”
“Why?” she asked.
Greyson got it. “You don’t think it was mob related.”
She shook her head. “I think this might confirm it wasn’t about Tony Mays. Think about it. He would have put him in OUR warehouse, not his.”
“So you think it’s someone who had it in for Mays.”
Emma nodded. “What if Dalton’s murder was incidental? A practice run?”
He thought about it.
“We know that Dalton was asking a lot of questions. What if he started digging, and the person stalking Mays got antsy?”
His wife had a point.
“So he had to die.”
“Yeah, and then Mays went too. The methods are completely different,” she stated. “This killer tortured Dalton. Why?”
“To get details.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. He knew something, and when he spilled his guts, he was of no use.”
“Then why bury him and unbury him?” Riley asked. “It seems counterproductive.”
They weren’t sure.
They needed more.
“Then Mays is killed,” Emma stated. “He’s hit in the back of the head and left to die.”
“What about trace?” Greyson asked.
“We found blonde hair.”
“Gina, his girlfriend, or whatever he calls her, is a redhead,” Dimitri offered. “Could she be involved?”
That was a possibility.
“Here’s what is bugging me more than anything,” Emma stated.
“What?” Greyson asked.
“Dalton is placed in the warehouse, and then where do we find the key?”
“At his home.”
“How?”
The men looked at each other.
“Do you think his wife killed him?” Dimitri asked. “Did she do this?” he asked, getting angry.
Riley shook his head. “Look at the notes. Heath, while on a witch-hunt for you, is still a good cop. He’ knows how to do his job.”
Emma read.
“She has an airtight alibi. She had a PTA function that whole day, where she was a speaker, and then she had her kids that whole night. She is in the clear.”
Riley added to it.
“A neighbor also said she came home, they grilled dinner, the kids playing, and she was home the whole night. So, she didn’t do it.”
Emma had a thought. “She had a spare key beneath her mat.”
She told them about when she and Chris went to search the place.
“Well, that’s idiotic,” Greyson stated. “Why not just ask to be killed?”
“Yeah, but that opens this up. What if the killer went there to search the place, looking for whatever it is they got out of Dalton, and they figured…make her look guilty by hiding something in plain sight?”
She had a point.
“This is one giant circle,” Riley stated. “Am I in?”
Emma had to admit that his notes and information were helpful. “Does Heath have anything from the man’s work office?” she asked.
“No. We’re waiting on a warrant since he shared his business with a partner. We can’t get all the notes in every file. The partner is telling us no freaking way.”
“Who is the partner?” Greyson asked.
He flipped through his notes. “Adrian Tracey. He’s an accountant to a bunch of rich folks. You know they’re hiding money, and right now, he’s purging files.”
“We need those files and fast,” Emma insisted.
Greyson knew it.
“Well?” Riley asked.
“You’re in, but if you betray us, Detective Henderson, we’ll hang your body from the LVPD flagpole, and I do mean that in the most literal sense,” Emma stated, willing to do anything to protect her family.
He offered Emma his hand. “I won’t. I believe in what you’re doing.”
Yeah, so did they, and this was a risk.
“You say nothing to anyone about what we do,” Greyson stated. “We want everyone to think we’re the bad guys.”
“Why?”
“It keeps them off our backs. Money speaks in Vegas, and we have the loudest voice,” he offered. “We can help a lot of people by being bad—less by being good.”
Dimitri laughed. “The law is so…confining.”
He got it.
“I won’t say a word,” he offered.
They hoped not.
“I’ll go dig around. If you find anything, let me know. I’ll be your eyes and ears inside the LVPD.”
“How should we contact you?” Greyson asked.
“Cell?”
Dimitri laughed. “Yeah, not your cell. How do we know you’re not being followed by your GPS signal? Next time, leave it home.”
Riley never thought about that.
This was a whole new level of sneaky.
He never believed he’d take this route, but he was a desperate man. This was about getting shit done in Vegas.
Dimitri went to a cabinet and pulled out a cell. “It’s clean. My number is in it. Call it when you need to reach them.”
He took the phone.
“Thank you.”
“You’ll hear from us, Riley,” stated Greyson Croft. “If you cross us,” he began, letting it hang there in the air between them.
“I know. I’m dead.”
He didn’t want to leave any room for any kind of misunderstanding.
“Yes, and so is your whole family. I’ve done my research. You risk mine, and the cost is yours.”
“You really are the bad one,” he stated, accepting his gun back.
Greyson laughed.
There was never any doubt.
And they liked it that way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunday Night
W hen they got home, it was pretty late. Chris and Natasha were cuddled up on the couch watching the news, Paris and Tessa had gone home, and Dante and Steele were having some wine.
“How’d it go?” Chris asked.
Emma told him all about it.
“We’re going to be working with Riley Henderson,” she stated. “He comes from a line of cops, and he’s a good one too,” Emma admitted.
“He fed us information,” Greyson added, “including Heath Spencer’s notes on Dalton’s killing.”
He passed Chris the file.
“Oh, that would drive the man insane to know we had them,” Chris stated.
“What do you think?” Dimitri asked. “Do we trust him?” he asked.
Chris shrugged. “It’s a crapshoot. If the commissioner got to him, we’re screwed.”
“What if we keep him at arm’s length for now?” Emma asked, “and work on our part of the deal.”
“Cleaning up Vegas?” Greyson asked, getting a drink. His wife was watching him, and he already knew what she was thinking. The entire way home, she’d been rubbing against him.
Well, he had a surprise for his kitten.
In their room, he was going to jump her.
“He’s young, he’s got this ideal vision of what the law should be, and he’s going to try,” offered Chris. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
He had a point.
“Do you have the autopsies?” Steele asked, as soon as he saw the papers on the table.
“Yeah, you want in?” Emma asked.
She knew, anymore, that Steele was hesitant. Since being buried alive, he’d like the idea of not having to play in the dead. He’d almost been the victim.
It took him a second.
“May I?”
Dante cleared his throat. “You don’t have to do this, babe. We don’t have to have you be part of this.”
Steele leaned over and kissed his fiancé. “I am part of this, aren’t I? You want me to be part of your life, your business, and your family, don’t you?”
“I do. You’re going to be my husband.”
“Then I’m going to be part of this family. I want to help.”
Dante touched his cheek with his big warm palm. “Then, I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say, help.”
“Yeah, go for it,” Emma offered.
Steele picked them up and flipped through the files. “The killer hit him in the perfect spot.”
“What do you mean?” Greyson asked.
“It was one strike to the skull, and it fractured it. From the angle, your killer isn’t tall. Had he been tall, he would have hit down, not up.”
“Who do we have that’s not tall?” Emma asked.
“Tony wasn’t tall,” Greyson offered, “but he’s the dead guy, so…?”
“There was a blonde hair found on him.”
“Gina is a redhead,” Dimitri reiterated, offering up what Riley had already told them in the meeting.
Chris looked up.
“That’s curious.”
“We have Riley’s notes. He tried to interview her, but Gina was inconsolable,” Greyson stated.
“Well, in the hussy’s
defense, if I had just come home and found you dead, I would be too.”
“We should talk to her,” Greyson said. “You know…to cover our bases.”
Dimitri agreed. “We still have to handle his two bodyguards,” he stated. “You know, the ones who tried to grab my sister.”
They did.
Speaking of sisters…
“Did they make their flight?” Greyson asked. “Are Curtis and Katerina safely on their way?”
Chris nodded. “The family jet took off sixty minutes ago. They’ll be landing in Philly in a couple hours, and then tomorrow the honeymoon begins.”
He was glad.
He hoped Curtis had the time of his life.
“Tomorrow, we’ll head to Tony Mays’s house to talk to his woman,” Greyson stated.
“Uh, how are we going to pull that off?” Chris asked. “We aren’t cops.”
“We are going to go as ourselves. You know, as people who are going to deliver our condolences on his death.”
They all started laughing.
“I know. I laughed in my head when I thought it up,” he stated. “It will work though. Watch and learn. When people are in mourning, they talk.”
Emma hoped so. They needed something. While their case was technically closed, she wanted to give Dalton’s widow a gift.
Closure.
Speaking of which…
“Where’s Sam?” she asked.
“He was talking with Paris, and then he wanted to go to his room. He took a few books and half a pizza,” Chris stated. “He’s still there—last I checked. He is a flight risk though.”
She looked alarmed.
“What do you mean by that?” Emma asked.
“He said, and I quote, ‘If that babe thinks I’m wearing another monkey suit like this again, I’d rather run away’.”
Immediately, she relaxed and laughed. “I let him wear jeans too.”
Greyson gave her a kiss. “Why don’t you go check on him, and I’ll meet you in our room for some monkey business?”
Dante made gagging sounds.
Chris snorted.
“First one to make a comment will have me asking really uncomfortable questions about their own sex life,” Emma warned, as she winked at her husband.
“You’re too old to be having sex,” Dante said, earning one hell of a slap to the back of his head as Emma walked past him.
“The housekeeper found some interesting porn in your room under the mattress,” Emma stated on her way out of the room.
Lost Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 2) Page 37
