Croft heard the commotion and glanced up from his search of Judd’s kitchen, just in time to see the man moving towards his wife. Everything in him went ice cold, as he knew she was in danger. Racing back into the room, he got to the couch in time to see the suspect struggling with his wife as she was pinned to the floor with his heavier body weight.
As he was about to commit homicide, Emma struck out, clipping the man in the jaw and knocking him off her body.
The need to kill filled him. Greyson saw red as he watched his wife get up from the floor. She was wiping her mouth and the blood from her chin. Croft had the overwhelming need to protect his woman.
He spun the whimpering man around and cuffed him. Before he could ask his wife if she was fine, Emma was crossing the room and headed straight towards the detective.
Intercepting her, Detective Bristol inserted his body between them, trying to stop what he knew was coming.
“You’re an asshole,” snapped Emma, pointing at the man who allowed the suspect to come at her. “You were supposed to restrain him and have my damn back,” she snapped angrily.
Detective Laden crossed his arms. “He pulled away from me. He’s stronger than he appears,” he said facetiously.
Croft dragged the suspect towards an officer. “Can you put him in your car?” When the man was gone, he also turned on the detective. “What you just pulled could have cost Emma her life,” he said, voice filled with something dark and dangerous.
“Hey! He pulled away. You searched him, and he was clean. If she would have been hurt, it would have been on you. The man broke free from my grasp. Isn’t that what happened, Mace?” He stared over at his partner, waiting for him to back him up.
“You’re an asshole,” Bristol said, letting go of Emma. “I’m going back to what I was doing,” he said, turning his back on the man who was once his friend. Yeah, he may hate the Feds, but he just betrayed one of their own and someone could have died.
Emma’s calm returned. “Get off my search,” she said, willing to play the game. She was lead detective and wasn’t risking any more incidents. “I’ll never trust you at my back, ever again.”
“That works for me, since I don’t plan on ever covering it. See you back at the office,” he called to his partner as he headed out the door. “I’m not some Fed’s ass kissing lackey.”
Bristol ignored him, unwilling to be pulled into the mess by his partner’s actions. When he returned to the squad room, Mace was going to talk to his boss and ask for a transfer. If Sawyer Laden would pull this, who knew what would happen if he pissed him off. You had to trust your partner, and Mace no longer did. His judgment was skewed, and if Sawyer would turn on a woman, what he was capable of doing?
Now, Croft’s focus was on Emma and the blood on her chin. He wanted to go after the man to twist his head right off his shoulders. “How bad are you hurt?” he growled, barely able to contain the anger brewing in his gut.
Emma patted her husband on the chest, offering him reassurance. “I’m okay, babe. I just bit my lip when I fell. Mr. Frazier didn't get a shot in.”
He said nothing, his fists clenched at his side. It was hard to watch his woman scuffling with some scumbag. It took everything to keep it in check.
“Let’s execute the search,” Emma said. “Don’t worry about Sawyer. He’ll get his.”
Croft looked over. “How do you know?” he asked.
“Because karma’s a bitch, and she always gets revenge.”
~ Chapter Six ~
Wednesday Noon
Sitting in the room together, Agent Briggs and Detective Westmore were pouring through the information as it came through. He’d called for the recording Emma wanted, and it was sitting on a flash drive, waiting for someone to do the review.
The request was out as they waited for the call’s location to come in next. Hopefully, it would be done before the team was back from their search. Now, all that remained was waiting for the head FBI geek to show up at the precinct for his orders. Briggs had never met him, but Croft had sent him an email with all the instructions. From what he said, the man was a genius.
Maxwell Pauley was his head tech for a reason.
As Briggs cell phone beeped, he glanced down at the readout. “He’s here,” the agent said, standing up. “I’ll go get him, and bring him back.
Detective Westmore stood. “You finish what you’re doing. I’ll go. I don’t mind,” she replied. “I’m basically just sitting here babysitting you anyway.”
He started laughing. “Gee, thanks.”
Brynn headed out to the bullpen, spotting only one stranger in the mix. When her eyes met his, her heart started pounding in her chest. The man standing there was completely unexpected. There stood this surfer-esque man, sporting sun kissed blond hair and piercing blue eyes. As she stared at him, the room began getting a tad bit warm. The head tech was a sexy looking bad boy.
“Mr. Pauley?” she called, finally finding her voice. He began moving towards her, and she still couldn’t believe this man was a genius. Part of her was waiting for him to open his mouth and ‘surfer dude’ slang to slide out. It was obviously hot Fed week at the precinct.
He held out his hand, watching the brunette carefully. When she entered the room, immediately, his eyes went to her and his interest was piqued. “I’m Max Pauley,” he said, grinning. Well hell! If this was one of the people he was going to be working with, he didn't mind at all.
Brynn accepted his offered hand as she smiled at him. “Agent Briggs is back here. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the room we’re working in, and we can get started.”
He nodded, following the woman through the bull pen as he tried to focus on the job at hand and not the luscious brunette with the pretty eyes.
Entering the room, Brynn went back to her seat not far from Curtis. “Max, this is Special Agent Briggs.”
The man shook his hand and smiled warmly. “Director Croft emailed me, requesting I offer up any help I can with your murder investigation.”
Briggs nodded, noticing the man wasn’t exactly staring at him, but the woman beside him. When he turned his head, Brynn had a big smile on her face. Suddenly, his mood began sliding south. What the hell happened in the last three minutes?
“Yeah, thanks.” His tablet beeped, signaling incoming information. Scribbling down the address, he slid it across the table towards the man. “Croft needs this location swept. We just got the address of the phone booth back.”
“So, you want it fingerprinted?” Max asked, taking the address and tucking it in his back pocket.
“Yeah, and we need it done right.”
Max’s eyes refocused on the man before him, unsure where the icy hostility was emanating from, but he could detect it there. “I always do things right, Agent Briggs. I’m not Director Croft’s head tech for nothing,” he answered, winking at the woman at the table beside the man. “I’ll email you with whatever we find.”
Briggs could feel his blood pressure rising. Now, he understood what his partner felt whenever Emma was being checked out by a man. He couldn’t rationalize it, because as of yet, the detective wasn’t even dating him.
Brynn watched him leave and couldn’t help but enjoy the view from behind. When she looked over at Briggs, he didn't look happy. “What?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
He was going to say something, but he decided against it. If the woman was going to get all loopy over some tech she just met, there wasn’t anything he could do.
That was a lie. He suddenly felt like following the man and kicking the shit out of him.
Crap!
“We should get back to work,” he said, grabbing the flash drive and slipping it into the laptop. “We’ll listen to the call and report back to Emma what we learn,” he stated brusquely.
Brynn didn't understand why he was being chilly towards her. They weren’t a couple, and she was free to check out some tech eye candy. Oh well, she didn't plan on dwelling on it either.
/> Curtis pulled up the file, and they listened to the call. It seemed pretty straightforward.
I just found a body over on Piedmont drive. It’s in one of the dumpsters. Can you send someone to get it?
Then there was the click of the hang up and the voice of the operator trying to ascertain more information. Unfortunately, the caller was already gone.
“This isn’t going to help us much,” stated Briggs, not impressed at all by the call. It started and stopped so fast, he couldn’t even listen to background noise.
“I guess it’ll come down to what Max finds out at that address,” she added.
Briggs body tensed at his name. “Probably.”
Yeah, he wasn’t feeling very magnanimous at that moment towards Maxwell Pauley or Detective Brynn Westmore. Maybe it was juvenile, but the whole situation pissed him off.
“What’s next?” she asked, sensing his hostility again.
“We work until the boss returns with the results of the search warrant,” he said, focusing on the work in front of him and pushing the rest out of his mind.
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
He didn't even look up from the scrolling data. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want.”
* * *
The search was just about over as they pulled the final space apart. They saved the bedroom for last, only because it tended to be the hotspot of evidence in most searches. Most people spent the majority of their time at home in bed, either sleeping or rolling around completely naked.
Somehow, Emma believed there was a great deal of pleasure going on in this room and mostly with a party of one. There was still plenty of porn sitting beside the TV across from the room, and they’d bag it up to be checked at the lab.
“I hate this part,” she said from her knees on the side of the bed.
Her husband started laughing. “I believe I say the same thing every time I have to do this too,” he added.
Detective Bristol peeked his head out of the bathroom. “I’ll trade with either one of you,” he practically pleaded, indicating he wasn’t having a picnic either.
Emma snickered. “Hell no! That’s the worst room in the entire place.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, going back to digging through the medicine cabinet. “Our guy needed a little extra help in the sex department.”
“Was he popping or lubing up?” she called, noticing the look on her husband’s face at her terminology. It made her laugh. It was somewhere between horror and sick fascination.
Mace came to the door shaking a bottle. “He was a popper.” Reading the side, he shook his head. “Unless he has an alias, these pills aren’t his.” He tossed them to Emma, who caught them with one gloved hand.
Croft moved towards her side. “This alone gives us enough to hold him until the techs can go through all the porn.”
It was the highlight of her day. “That works for me. I just wish we could find something here to link him to either one of our victims.”
He couldn’t let it bother him. “You win some, you lose some.”
Being out of the homicide game for a year, she’d forgotten that simple fact. “Yeah, but I don’t have to like it.”
“Oh look! A bunch of crusty Kleenex,” muttered Croft.
Now, it was Emma’s turn to be horrified. “I think I may throw up.”
* * *
After the search was complete, the team of Croft and Croft sent Detective Bristol back to the precinct, and they took the evidence directly to the FBI field office to be analyzed. Greyson drove them there with the intent of giving her a quick walk through of his domain.
There was a matter of masculine pride with him, that this was ‘kingdom’ of sorts. Again, he was back to being very Neanderthal like, but it simply was hardwired into his genetics. Pulling up, he parked the SUV in the parking lot in his tagged space and glanced over at his wife.
“Want to come in?” he asked hopefully.
“Absolutely, Grey, I’d love to see where you work,” she smiled reassuringly. How he didn't believe she’d be proud enough to walk through his place of employment with him, she’d never know. If anything, being at his side was amazing, and she was truly blessed to be his wife.
Besides, Emma was curious. This was her first chance to ever get a look at the inside of his office.
He met her at the back of the SUV, and they each took a box and began walking into the building. At the front desk, they were stopped by the guard.
“Director Croft, welcome back from your meetings. Would you like me to carry those for you?” he asked, pointing at the boxes.
“No thank you, they’re evidence, and I can’t let them out of my sight,” he replied.
“You’ll need to sign your visitor in so I can lock up her weapon,” he stated as he nodded towards the redhead.
Yeah, no he wasn’t. “Clinton, this is my wife, Detective Emma Croft. She doesn’t need to sign in or turn in her firearm. When she shows up, send her right through security,” he stated. He wasn’t making his wife jump through hoops to access their building. He wasn’t kidding when he told her that he was accessible to her at all times.
“I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t aware,” he stated, glancing over at her. “I apologize, Mrs. Croft,” he added. “We knew the director was married, but he’s hush-hush about things like that.”
Emma started laughing. Apparently, they were very much alike. “That’s okay, Clinton. It was really nice meeting you.”
“You too, ma’am.”
Following her husband to the lab, Emma scanned the surroundings to take it all in. The FBI building was much like it appeared to be from the outside.
Big.
Shiny.
And pretty high tech.
Then there was the lab.
It would make the city’s CSI’s weep if they only knew what a real lab looked like. Inside, they found a tech processing some data that was scrolling quickly across the screen.
“Chris, where’s Max?” Croft asked, looking around the room at the techs.
“Sorry boss, but he’s out in the field. I believe he’s working that assignment you sent over,” replied the man, finally noticing that the director wasn’t alone. Immediately, the woman standing beside his boss caught his eye. “Hello, gorgeous! Where have you been all my life?” he asked, grinning wickedly.
Emma started laughing at the comment.
Croft wasn’t nearly as entertained. “Chris, let me introduce you to my guest here.”
“Please do,” he interrupted, standing and straightening his lab coat, and then holding out his hand to shake hers.
The look on her husband’s face was priceless.
It wasn’t easy to keep his cool, but he managed. “Chris, this is Detective Emma Croft,” he said, pausing a moment to give the man a second for name recognition to dawn. “My wife.”
The man literally dropped her hand and took a step back as he almost knocked over his desk chair. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, Director. I wasn’t aware.”
It drew everyone’s attention.
Croft grinned, knowing he didn't have to say or do anything. His reputation preceded him. Just the way he liked it. Some part of him didn't want them to be scared shitless, but he didn't want them thinking they could poach his wife either.
He took the box from Emma and didn't know what to say. “Is this evidence?” he asked as he signed the attached paper.
“Yes, it is.”
Emma elbowed her husband, warning him to lighten up on the poor guy. The man looked like a deer in headlights. “Relax, Chris. He won’t bite, I promise.” Emma slid her arm around her husband’s waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Will you, Greyson?” she asked.
The man shrugged. “One never knows.” Then, he glanced around the room. “Memorize her face. If Detective Croft shows up here, you’re to give her whatever it is she requests. Am I clear?”
Everyone nodded.
“That’s all. Get back to work.” Croft led
her from the room, leaving a bunch of techs staring in their wake.
“Can you believe he’s married to a hottie? The ‘Ice King’ has a gorgeous wife!” Chris declared, shaking his head.
“You better stop thinking about it. You know he has the room bugged and hardwired,” another tech added laughing.
“Yeah, I guess.” But he really wasn’t sure.
With Director Croft one never knew.
In the elevator, Emma began giggling. “You aren’t nearly as scary as they believe you to be,” she stated, entertained by the performance in the lab.
“Maybe not to my wife. I’m madly in love and married to you, but I take work very serious. I don’t leave any room for doubt on that here.”
“I can tell,” she replied grinning. When she reached down to pat him on the ass, his whole body tensed. “Want to sneak back to your office for a quickie, Mr. Director?”
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, not willing to go there while at work. Okay, he wanted to go there, but he couldn’t. He was the boss and set the standard. Plus, he knew ninety percent of the building was on security cameras.
Hell! Now the idea was bouncing around in his brain. Emma had him thinking about sex in his office.
Crap!
Emma giggled and leaned away from him as the door opened. “Yes, sir, Director Croft, sir,” she replied teasingly.
He glanced over at her, giving her a look that screamed ‘behave’ as someone entered the elevator.
“Hello, Director,” he said, and then focused on the woman. “Ma’am, you should have a security visitor’s badge,” he said, staring at her. “You can’t be in here. The upper floors are a secure area.”
Croft interjected, stopping the man right there. “Tom, this is my wife, Detective Emma Croft. Emma, this is Thomas Gilbride. He’s one of my agents.”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said, turning and staring straight ahead. Who would have guessed that the director had a wife? Yeah, he wore a ring, but everyone thought he was married to the job and the jewelry was an act to make him more approachable.
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 14
