She wasn’t going to argue, since she was the luckiest woman and knew it too. “There’s more where that came from, babe,” she teased. “I find that I like to catch you off guard.”
He stared at her predatorily, accepting her challenge. “Have at it.”
“I’ll meet you for breakfast, Grey,” she replied as she walked away laughing. Mr. Control wasn’t hard to break. It just took a few tricks. Once in the kitchen, she was still smiling smugly at her little conquest.
Marriage was an awesome thing.
Croft watched her go and he glanced up at the ceiling. “Thank you for whatever I did to get her in my life,” he said, to the higher power who handed out wives. “Please let me keep her safe.”
He thought about it.
“I’ll do anything.”
The coffee was finished and Emma was making them french toast as he wandered in after getting dressed. It was Monday, and he was in a suit and tie. While they worked on the weekend, he was more likely to kick back, but not during the week. He was Mr. FBI to the core.
“You look handsome,” she answered, heating up some blueberry syrup. “I think you look very sexy in your suit.”
Greyson’s heart skipped. He loved that his wife enjoyed seeing him all dressed up. “It smells good in here. I don’t think that’s tofu,” he stated, watching her navigate their kitchen.
“Nope, not today.” When he sat, she placed a coffee mug in front of him and a kiss on his cheek.
“Want to talk shop while we have breakfast?” he inquired, giving her the option.
“Absolutely, babe,” Emma replied, going back to her cooking.
“I spoke to Max last night,” he said.
“What do we have?”
He told her all about the DNA match and the proof that Dyer Mason was sleeping with the three victims at some point. “I’d like to say he’s guilty of something, just to toss his ass in jail, but he indiscriminately jumps anything with breasts.”
She laughed at the look on his face. “Stop worrying. He’s not touching me. No one jumps me but you,” she reassured. “What about victim number four?”
Croft pulled out his phone. “I have to call Max and get the details.” He made the call, briefly talking to the man on the other end. When he hung up, his face said it all.
“Dyer Mason had sex with the last victim too, didn't he?” she asked, placing his plate in front of him.
“Yeah.”
“He’s either the one perpetrating it or he’s part of this too. Maybe the person doing this isn’t just focused on Randall Mason, but the entire family. Could the killer be murdering all the women who Dyer has been sleeping with?” Emma cut into her breakfast. “This is getting uglier.”
“It is getting nasty, and if the killer is targeting all the women in Dyer’s life, we’ll have a mass slaughter.” This was even more reason to keep Emma as far away from the asshole as possible. Croft didn't want her mistaken for one of the man’s conquests.
She watched his face, and it was obvious what he was thinking. “You want me to stay away from him.”
He started laughing, and it wasn’t a good laugh. Greyson Croft was a man on the edge. “I don’t want you in the same time zone as him.”
“Grey, this is my job.”
Knowing that and convincing his brain not to freak out were two very different things. “Emma, you know me. I’m trying to keep it in control. I don’t know if I can when it comes to that man. He’s always trying to put his hands on you, and the innuendos are enough to drive me insane.”
It was time for the truth. “Grey, do you trust me?”
He stared at her. “Of course I do!”
“Then listen to what I’m saying to you. You're the new director of the FBI. There is nothing, people like Randall Mason would like more, than to totally rattle your cage. It’s power over a man they normally couldn’t control. You going off the edge makes them more likely to repeat the torment. You have to let it go.”
If it were only that easy.
“Dyer Mason is a lecherous asshole who is riding his daddy’s coattails. He has nothing on the man I married. Let me handle him. If I slap him down, trust me, it’s going to sting. Being put in his place by a woman is going to damage his ego. You beating him into a pulp will just make you vulnerable.”
He knew she was absolutely right.
“If he makes a play, let me deal with it. I promise I’ll run right to my big strong caveman if I get in over my head.”
Croft grinned. “Deal.”
“Thank you,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. “You won’t regret it. Find entertainment in Dyer getting neutered by your woman. That should be enough to get you through it.”
Now, he laughed more. “You know, it’s funny when you call yourself that.”
Her hand went to his cheek. “It’s the truth. I’m all yours.”
Croft was about to kiss her when her phone rang. “Bad timing,” he muttered as he went back to eating his french toast. Focusing on that, he tried to forget the Mason mess. In fact, he had to admit, breakfast was really good. That meant she hid something in it that shouldn’t be there. There had to be ground up grains or sticks. It was there, he knew it. Emma was tricky in the kitchen.
“Detective Croft,” she answered.
“Emma, it’s Steele,” he said into the phone.
She smiled, knowing the man was loosening up a little. It was good to see. “Hey, Doctor, how are you this morning?”
“I’m good. I have your autopsy results for you. Did you get to read the report I sent last night?”
“No Doctor, I was a bit occupied and had something come up.”
Croft started snickering. “Yeah, something came up multiple times, and even once in the closet.”
She kicked him in the leg only to have him wiggle his eyebrows lecherously.
“I’ll recap. I opened her mouth, and it definitely wasn’t eyeballs this time. It was pins. I found lots and lots of very sharp ones.”
“That’s weird,” she said, hitting the button on the phone. “You're on speaker, Doctor. I think my husband needs to hear this.”
“Morning Director. I was telling your wife, I found pins in her oral cavity.”
“Pins? Like safety pins?”
“No, more like the ones used in hems before the sewing is done.”
Emma didn't know where to take this one. It was just getting more and more bizarre as the case went on. “What else did you find?”
“She was killed the same way as the other victims. One strike to the skull, and I venture to say it’s the same tool once again. I sent the details over to the FBI team a little while ago. I believe they’re looking for the weapon in their database.”
“I appreciate it, Doctor.”
“We counted the pins. There were one hundred and nine,” he added. “I don’t know if that’s significant or just how many the killer had on hand.”
They both looked at each other.
“I believe the knife used to cut off the ears and gouge out the eyes is consistent with the other victims too. She had no other damage to her body, other than the bruising from sex. I found what appeared to be finger marks on her hips. So, it’s likely he held her there. The scrape on her cheek had residue in it, and it’s off to be tested too.”
“Thank you, Doc,” stated Emma. “If you find anything else or tox comes in, drop me an email or I’ll stop in.”
“I will. Have a good day.” He disconnected the call.
Emma thought about it. “It has to be significant. Look at everything else. He took her eyes, the ears, and now is stitching them to her arm? Everything appears to point to something else. We need to sit down today and work through it all.”
He agreed.
Croft’s phone began ringing. “It’s Tom Booker.”
Emma didn't say anything. She went back to her breakfast. As of late, she wasn’t thrilled with the commissioner and his attachment to Mason.
“Morning Tom, What
can I do for you?” he asked as he glanced over at his woman. She was staring at her food in an attempt to avoid his gaze.
That was definitely curious.
“I was calling to invite you and your wife to dinner tonight. Trudy feels like she insulted Emma at the premier, when she commented on her gown being ruined. I told her not to worry about it, but she wants to make amends.”
Croft was insulted, so he imagined Emma was too, but she let it go. “I need to talk to her first and see if her schedule permits it, Tom. You know she’s neck deep in this investigation.” If she wanted the out, he’d let her use it. Already, she told him she didn't like Trudy, and he wouldn’t force her to go there.
“I see. I figured you’d be coming since you’re the boss in the relationship.”
It was as if he was challenging him, and Greyson tried to keep calm. “I may be the husband, Tom, but Emma and I are equals. I don’t force her to change her schedule to accommodate mine. Her job is equally as important.”
“Call me back, son.” Then, he hung up the phone.
Emma didn't say anything, but she’d analyzed every word. In the back of her mind, she wanted to say no to whatever the man wanted, but then she didn't want to make Greyson have to play even more games to cover for her.
“We’ve been invited to dinner tonight.”
She looked up. “And?”
“Would you like to go?” he asked, leaving it up to her.
“Can I be honest without putting you in a position to take sides?” Emma needed to know. “You once told me I could come to you with anything and not worry, even if it was about you.”
He stared at her incredulously. “Honey, you can come to me anytime. You know that. What’s troubling you?”
“I don’t trust him.”
Croft stared at her, unsure if there was more.
“I just feel like the man is in Mason’s pocket, and he’s trying to suck you in as FBI director.”
It wasn’t anything he hadn’t been feeling himself. “So, we don’t go.”
She sighed. “I don’t want to ruin your friendships or stop you from making your connections in the career world. I’m just uncomfortable with the police commissioner digging into the case, and then risking him feeding Mason our information. We don’t know if Randall’s son is involved or not.”
He understood. “We can go and just not discuss it.”
Emma knew this was tricky ground. “I don’t want you to say anything. If he asks, I’ll take the heat and lie or mislead. You’re one of them now, and you can’t damage your networking.”
He stared at her. “Honey, I’d toss it all in a heartbeat to keep you.”
“I can always misdirect and just write it off to being something we were thinking of pursuing. If you come out and say we aren’t discussing it, then it makes you odd man out.”
“I hate games.”
She started laughing. “Well, then moving to Vegas and taking the position as director of the FBI field office was probably a bad idea.”
“Come here,” he said, standing and opening his arms. “I don’t trust anyone in this city but you. You’re my moral compass.”
“And your mine,” she whispered, going into his arms and clinging to him. “I love you, Grey.”
He whispered it back into her ear, along with so many more promises he knew he’d always keep. “I’ll call him back and tell him we’ll come. In fact, I’m looking forward to having a cigar and making you my drink wench,” he teased.
She started laughing. “You’re out of control.”
He pulled out his phone while he continued to hold his woman against him. She wasn’t moving, and he wasn’t in the mood to let go. “Tom, it’s Greyson. I spoke to Emma, and she’s able to cut out early as long as another victim doesn’t pop up.”
“Excellent! I’ll tell my wife.”
“Tom, Emma’s a vegetarian.” He didn't plan on rationalizing it or explaining the situation to the man. “And I gave meat up too.” To protect his wife from prying questions, he’d lie and let them assume.
“Oh, well that’s a twist. You used to like a big juicy burger. I’ll tell Trudy. I’m sure she can adjust.”
“We eat seafood, if that’s helpful.”
Tom chuckled. “For you to give up meat, she has to be damn good in bed.”
Greyson wasn’t responding to that, solely because it was inappropriate and none of his business. “What time?”
“Trudy scheduled drinks at six and dinner at seven.”
Croft was tense. “See you then.”
Emma could feel the change in him. “What’s wrong?”
He didn't want to discuss it, and his first thought was to lie, but then he knew they made a little rule about that. “He made a comment that pissed me off.”
“About me being good in bed?” When he looked at her, she laughed. “I’m four inches from the phone. I have excellent hearing.”
“Honey, I’m sorry.” He was beginning to question his friendship with the man now too.
Emma went up on her toes and kissed her husband, long, slow, and deep. Pulling away, she grinned wickedly. “That was for telling him you gave up meat.”
“I don’t mind, Em. We’re a team.”
“Greyson?” she said, moving away to clear the dishes before they left for work.
“Yeah?”
“He wasn’t wrong. I am really good in bed,” she answered, keeping a straight face. “Later, I’ll prove it.”
His mouth dropped open, and then he closed it without saying a word.
If it was anything like her little surprise in the closet, he couldn’t wait.
~ Chapter Sixteen ~
Before they left the house, Emma dropped the bomb. They needed to swing over to Randall Mason’s house to get the ID on the woman who was murdered.
She’d tried calling, but the man wasn’t answering his line.
Croft didn't doubt that it was to lure his wife into his domain for the upper hand. He was pretty sure the man was going to pump her for information as his son just tried to pump her.
It shot his blood pressure right up at the visual playing out in his head.
As if one Mason wasn’t bad enough, he had to deal with two. Emma must have sensed his frustration, because she took his hand in hers reassuringly and gave it a squeeze.
“I have you by my side, it’ll all work out.”
Croft prayed he could keep his temper in check. He wanted to keep his word, but not letting them stir him up was going to be very hard to manage.
“Grey?” she stared over at him.
“Yeah, honey?”
“Can we work out of the FBI building today?” she asked. The request must have caught him off guard, because he didn't speak for a couple of seconds.
“Yes, why?” he was relieved. He had a conference call that morning that he really couldn’t miss, and he didn't want his wife alone and unprotected out in the field.
“I want to break down the information today, and if the commissioner is on Mason’s payroll than anyone in my office could be too.” Plus, she knew about his call with his boss every Monday mid-morning. He couldn’t miss it, and she was sure he was stressed with the prospect of her being away from him.
“I have a conference call at twelve. I can give you a desk to work at or you can sit in with me if you promise to not be bold.”
“Like this morning, Grey?” she teased.
His whole body reacted. “Yes, exactly like that.” The idea of his wife repeating that little performance on her knees in front of him at work made his blood burn. Holy shit! He needed to stop thinking about that.
Wait, one more second…
Yeah, now, he put it away for later.
She started laughing. “You’re bright red, so I know what you’re thinking about. I’m just glad you enjoyed it.”
Croft was three days past ‘enjoyed’ and was bordering on ‘giddy with euphoria’. There was no way in hell he would ever turn down her lips on his b
ody. He’d have to be crazy. “No man in his right mind would ever complain,” he grinned as they pulled up to the gate at the huge mansion outside of town.
Yeah, Randall Mason had more money than God.
As he rolled down the window, a voice came over the intercom system. “Please state your name and business.”
Emma placed her hand on his arm. “Detective Emma Croft and Director Greyson Croft, and we’re here to speak to Mr. Mason.”
The gate clicked open immediately and allowed them access to the long driveway up to the main house. It was hard to not be impressed at the magnificent green grass growing in a desert. That alone screamed a lot of money and professional groundskeepers. Parked near the house, there were all kinds of sports cars in the driveway, and Croft knew who owned them.
They were all just to make up for what the man was lacking in other departments. That made Croft grin and feel much better.
“I’m not asking,” she stated as she got out of the Denali and crossed to her husband. They were going to walk into the lion’s den as a couple.
“It’s probably for the best,” he replied.
Emma took his hand in hers and connected them.
“I love you,” he said softly. “If I lose my temper, I’m sorry.” He apologized in advance, knowing that there was a possibility that it might happen.
He was only human.
Emma went up on her toes and kissed him softly. “I got your back, Grey.”
There was a clicking of heels across the floor and a woman dressed in a suit finally answered the door. “Hello, you must be Detective and Director Croft. Please come in. I’m Amelia Cross.”
Emma took the offered hand. “Can we speak to Mr. Mason? I know that he wasn’t expecting us, but I tried calling, and he didn't answer the number he gave me.”
Ms. Cross looked befuddled. “He didn't answer his private line? That is really weird. He’s generally all over it.”
Croft didn't buy it for a damn second. The reason the man didn't answer was to lure Emma here. He wanted her on his turf, and he had gotten exactly what he wanted.
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 40
