Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2)

by Morgan Kelley

As usual.

  “Follow me,” the woman said pleasantly. “Can I offer you some breakfast? Mr. Mason is having coffee in his office this morning as he works.”

  Emma appreciated the offer, but she didn't want to eat or drink anything in this house. Never dine with the devil. It was accurate and sound advice. “No, thank you, Amelia. We have appointments today, so this is just a quick visit.”

  Knocking on the giant carved wood doors, Amelia waited until the man answered.

  “Come in!”

  She pushed them open and beckoned them to follow. “Mr. Mason, you have company. A Ms. Croft is here, and she’s on your auto allow list for security.”

  “Mrs. Croft,” Emma corrected. “I’m married to the director.” She somehow doubted that was a mistake on anyone’s behalf.

  Croft remained silent, knowing this wasn’t his arena of battle. He had to believe in his wife.

  Randall Mason came around the desk with arms open and a smile of victory on his face. “Emma my dear, you came to see me,” he said, dropping a kiss on both cheeks. “I see you brought your husband with you too,” he stated as he held out his hand in greeting.

  “I did,” she replied, watching her husband nod and accept his handshake.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he inquired. This would be the true test of her character. Mason observed his guest acutely. Not once did she look around or act impressed with the lavish surroundings. She either had excellent control or really didn't care. He was beginning to believe it was the latter.

  “You promised me a list of women in the show and the name of anyone who went missing from your performance, remember?”

  “Oh, yes,” he stated. “I’m so absent minded. I believe my mother’s grave being desecrated had something to do with it.”

  Emma didn't buy that for a second. The man liked making women jump through hoops for him, and this was one more for his pleasure. He wanted her to show up there, and Mason knew her husband would be with her.

  This was all about studying Greyson like a rat in a lab. Emma prayed he would keep his cool.

  “Can you get it? Then, I’ll be out of your way, Mr. Mason. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. For her, he’d make time. “Please, call me Randall. You saved my life, and that makes us family and very close.”

  Croft could feel his nerves fraying, and he began counted in his head to twenty. Now, all he could hope was Dyer would remain in whatever hole he’d crawled into last night.

  “Thank you, Mr. Mason, but let’s keep it professional.”

  He began laughing. “You are a stubborn woman, Emma. Are you this difficult with every man or is it just me?” he inquired.

  Emma glanced at her husband and smiled. “I’m beyond easy with the right man.”

  Greyson grinned wickedly and winked at his wife. She was driving this one and having a good time with it.

  Mason took his seat and smiled at her. “Point taken, Emma. Let me get that paper for you,” he said, buzzing his secretary. “Amelia, bring me the show roster from last evening.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  As if on cue, the patio door opened and in wandered Dyer. He was dressed in only swim trunks and a pair of sunglasses.

  Well shit.

  Croft swore he’d never gamble in Vegas, since apparently his luck sucked. He willed his body to stay loose as he replayed everything his wife said that morning.

  “Hey, if it isn’t the hottest redhead in Vegas,” he stated as he crossed to stand in front of her.

  “Dyer,” warned his father as his eyes never left the Director’s face.

  “No worries, Pop. The detective and I have a little dance going on, don’t we, sugar?” he stated, pulling off his sunglasses. “She’s playing hard to get, and I’m just plain hard.”

  Emma stared at him, barely amused. “I’m sure it takes meds to get you there,” she replied tartly.

  The man registered anger, and then put it away.

  “Why don’t you join me for a swim? I bet you’d look hot in a bikini or better yet naked.”

  Croft kept the neutral look on his face, but inside he was ready to beat the hell out of the man.

  Or he could just shoot him.

  Yeah, that worked too.

  He wondered if prison would allow him conjugal visits if he was in for premeditated murder.

  “We have a pool, but I appreciate your offer. Find someone else.”

  Amelia walked in with the paper and placed it on the desk. She was just in time to watch the spectacle unfold in the room. She knew how it felt to be the target of Dyer’s come-ons. It wasn’t fun.

  “Lose the old man. You need someone who can keep up with you in bed, and not need a break in between.”

  Emma didn't even bat an eyelash. “Actually, Dyer, my husband is the perfect age, you see,” she paused to glance over at him before continuing, “I like my men to have their own identity and not be riding their daddy’s fame. It’s pathetic that you’re still living at home with him at your age. Here’s a hint. That’s a big turn off to real women.”

  The expression on his face said it all, and she waited for it. He swung at Emma, attempting to backhand her across the face but she ducked. He wasn’t expecting what followed as she punched him in the gut, kneed him in the groin, and then knocked him onto his back on the floor. When she put her foot in a strategic location, all the fight seemed to leave his body. “You just took a swing at a cop, and while you and I both know your daddy’s lawyers would get you off, maybe this might be a better lesson for you. Don’t screw with me, Dyer. I’m not some bubble headed broad you can tempt with money or a pool. You think I’d ever leave him for you?” She pointed at her husband and laughed as she pressed down with her boot on his junk to emphasize. When he hissed out a breath, she eased up. “You're not only a spoiled little brat, but you’re crazy.”

  Greyson Croft had to fight hard not to laugh. When he saw the man lift his arm, he nearly jumped in to save his wife. He was so glad he didn't, because it turned out to be the best show in Vegas.

  Amelia rushed from the room with a smile on her face.

  Emma focused on Randall Mason, who was staring incredulously at the woman. “You still owe me anything I want?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “You keep him far away from us. If you don’t and he touches me, I get to arrest him and you let him sit in jail for stalking and assault.”

  “Dad, you can’t!” objected the man from the floor.

  Randall Mason started laughing. “I won’t even count that as my favor, just because you played that so well. I love watching you, Emma. You are entertaining and smart as a whip. You’d make a great businesswoman. I didn't even see that one coming.”

  He came around the desk with the paper and handed it to her. “Dyer, when will you learn?” he said, disgustedly. “I also attached the woman’s address for you too, Emma.”

  “I appreciate that, Mr. Mason. You have a really good day,” she stated, stepping over the man on the floor. “If I see you again, Dyer, you’re going to jail.”

  Croft shook Mason’s hand. “Have a good one, sir,” he said, also stepping over the embarrassed man.

  Out in the hall they ran into Amelia. “Thank you for doing that. If I had to pull his hand off my ass one more time, I was going to lose my mind.”

  Emma grinned. “You don’t have to thank me. It was fun, and he had it coming. Have a really nice day, Amelia. It was nice to meet you.”

  Both Crofts walked out of the house and to their vehicle. Greyson said nothing as he drove them back down the drive and out the gate. Once away from the house, he pulled over and stared at his wife.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. The look on his face was beginning to worry her.

  “Come here,” he ordered, pulling her toward his mouth and kissing her with such a wildness that was building in him. What he wanted to do was climb in the back and have
crazy sex. Breaking away, he stared into her emerald eyes. “That was the hottest thing ever. The way you made him whimper like a girl was a big turn on,” he laughed wickedly.

  “I don’t like when people imply my very sexy husband is old. He’s actually quite perfect, and I’m the one who needs a break in between sex, not him.”

  He kissed her again, just because he could. How was he going to get through his meeting with this going on up in his brain? In fact, all the blood had drained much further south.

  “Wow,” she said as he finally released her. “That was some kiss. Not bad for an old geezer,” she teased, running her fingers down his cheek. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  “Watching that was my pleasure. He didn't even know what hit him. I might try to rough you up later just to wrestle around with you.”

  It made her laugh. “Go for it, tiger.”

  Croft might just do it. Then, he thought about the shot that Dyer took to the Mason family jewels. “Then again, maybe not.”

  Emma took his hand in hers and glanced at the clock. “We have the woman’s name and her address. How about we head to her apartment for a quick search and then back for your meeting?”

  He didn't mind that at all.

  “I’ll even buy you lunch, since you stayed calm the entire time,” Emma offered, grinning at her husband.

  “The last twelve hours are every man’s dream day. I got sex last night, a surprise in the closet, breakfast without tofu, you just kicked the shit out of an asshole and tonight you’re going to sit in my lap and let me smoke a cigar. I died and went to man heaven.”

  She snorted. “You know you just jinxed yourself, right? By even saying that, you’ve opened yourself up for some disaster.”

  He stared at her. “Crap! You better not be right!”

  * * *

  Curtis Briggs was bored out of his damn mind. Don’t get him wrong, he loved sitting beside her and keeping vigil, but all Brynn really did was sleep most of the day as she was drugged up and trying to heal.

  Was it wrong he missed his new family, and now even his bed in their condo? Maybe he’d get lucky and they’d let him do some work while he sat there.

  “You doing okay?” came her voice from beside him.

  He jumped and moved towards the side of the bed. “Yeah, do you need anything?”

  Brynn couldn’t believe he was still sitting there. “You know you can go back to work,” she offered, knowing that this had to be incredibly boring for him.

  “I may tomorrow just because they had another body turn up.” That wasn’t all. He really missed thinking.

  “Thank you for staying with me,” she said as she struggled to sit upright.

  Immediately, he was at her side and helping her. “Is that better?”

  She nodded. “When can I get out of here and move around. I’m getting sick of this bed. My ass is sore.”

  “Want me to rub it?” he offered, grinning wickedly.

  Brynn started laughing. “You’re either sneaking some of my good drugs or bored out of your mind.”

  “Would you be mad at me if I told you I’m bored?” he asked, offering the truth.

  “Are you kidding? I would have ditched your ass yesterday if you were the one who was shot.”

  He stared at her openmouthed.

  “I’m kidding, Curtis. You can go back to work whenever you want. I’ll be fine.” What she really wanted to say was ‘please go away so you don’t have to see me like this’. She was a giant mess, and all she wanted was a shower and to be in something that didn't smell medicated.

  “Want me to run to your apartment and get you some things?” he offered, more than willing to get the hell out of there. “I can go back to Greyson’s and shower and be back with anything you need.”

  That sounded amazing. “Okay, I’d tell you where my keys are, but I haven’t a clue.”

  “I’ll break in.” At her look, he started laughing. “I think I’ll manage. What do you want me to get?”

  She looked down at her chest, and the bandages over the incision they made to dig out the bullet and patch her up. “Can you bring me my own pajamas, tooth brush, maybe something to brush my hair?”

  He grinned. “I’m going to enjoy digging through your girly things,” he stated winking.

  She tried not to laugh. “You’ve earned it. Have at it,” she answered, watching him walk out the door. Once he was gone, she hit the button to dull the pain

  Brynn was making a list of things to NEVER do again. Getting shot was right there at the top.

  * * *

  Pulling up to the address on the paper, they looked at the house Liza Harper had called home. It looked like a frat house gone wild. There was a kicked keg on the front porch, a couch with a sleeping person, and red solo cups all over the railing.

  Yeah, it wasn’t hard to guess what her addiction was. It was either frat boys or booze.

  Possibly both.

  “Party pad,” Greyson said, turning off the vehicle. “They got the token drunk friend that couldn’t walk home, a bunch of debris, and the old lady neighbor looking pissed off. Where should we start first?”

  “I say old lady, since she looks like she’s the neighborhood crime watch,” Emma stated. “Want to bet she gives us an ear full on the woman?”

  “No bet. I once partied at a fraternity. I’ve seen this kind of mess before first hand,” he admitted.

  Emma started laughing. “I bet you did, and with those really sexy eyes of yours, I imagine many women tried to follow you home.”

  “I only use my eyes on one woman now, and she can follow me home any day,” he stated emphatically.

  When the old lady saw them coming, her demeanor changed. Now, she looked like she was sucking lemons. “Can you tell us if you know a woman named Liza Harper?” Croft asked as he pointed at the house.

  “Yeah, she’s the redhead. She drinks and hangs out with those losers. Her mother should be ashamed. Are you her parents?”

  Emma was appalled that someone thought that she could be the parent of a twenty something person. She hoped the woman just had really bad vision. “Uh no. He’s a Fed and I’m a detective with the LVPD.”

  “Good, arrest them for destroying my property value.” Then, she walked away, since she was done with the conversation. She’d called the cops more times than she could remember, and still no one had done anything about it.

  “Well, that was uneventful,” Croft stated. “Let’s go wake up the drunks.”

  “Gee, just what I wanted to do too.”

  Heading up the stairs, they noticed the front door was open. The man on the front porch was covered in something she didn't want to have to analyze. Apparently, he’d had too much to drink.

  “If we have kids they’re going to a school with no frat houses,” Emma stated, not even kidding.

  Croft was grinning. “Come on, you’ve yet to see the good parts of a party house. Just wait and see.”

  They knocked on the door and pulled it open. As they walked in, there was a man walking around naked.

  “Hey, you here for tonight’s party, baby?” he asked, wandering over to her. “It’s not ‘bring a date’ night.” He pointed at the big man beside her. “We supply the willing man action here.”

  “Maybe you should get pants on,” she suggested, pointing to any of the myriad of boxers strewn all over the floor.

  “Why? Don’t you like what you see?” He pointed down as part of him also began waking up.

  Croft was both amused and ready to kill, but he figured why not let his wife handle this one too. The man seemed more than harmless, and he did owe her payback for the barracuda attorney and the internet porn set up with the shrink.

  Emma rolled her eyes and pulled out the badge and handcuffs. “I will bring your nude ass down to the police station and put you in a cell with thirty men.” She noticed that let some of the fun out of his party. “Not all of them will be straight either.”

  And she achieved her go
al. The situation was... deflated.

  This time, her husband did laugh about it as the man quickly jumped into a pair of boxers. “Do you know Liza Harper?” he finally asked, taking control.

  “Yeah, she lives here. Well, she drinks here and is the resident bed babe.”

  Emma didn't have a clue what that meant.

  Croft leaned down to whisper in her ear. “She slept here for free rent and booze. She paid her bills with sex.”

  “Oh,” Emma said, thoroughly disgusted over the prospects. She’d rather be homeless. “Can we see her room?”

  “Why what’s she done?” he asked.

  They broke the news, and when he started laughing like it was some joke, Emma pulled out her phone and proved it.

  It took all of three seconds for him to turn his head and begin puking.

  Greyson and Emma stepped back to avoid the vomit.

  “Well, I’m not in the mood for lunch now,” she said as they moved past the puking man-child. It looked like they were going to have to do this the hard way. Now, they’d open ever door in the place until they found the one that looked like a girl’s room

  By door three, they hit pay dirt. Inside was a closet full of costumes and a very sparse room. In fact, there was only a bed, dresser, and the closet.

  There was no mess, no fuss and it appeared very much unlived in.

  “I was expecting something completely different, go figure,” she said, shaking her head. “It looks like she didn't sleep here at all.”

  “Liza probably didn't. Since she was the ‘bed babe’ they passed her around whenever they wanted.

  She looked at him. “Please tell me the man I married didn't do this shit in college. If you did, I’m going to be very disgusted and not be happy at all.”

  He started laughing. “I wasn’t in a frat, honey, and you know me. I’m a control freak when it comes to neatness. Do you really think I could handle this chaos?”

  That was a very valid point.

  “Can I help you?” a voice said from behind them. It was another naked guy with a partially clothed blonde wrapped around his body.

  “Yeah, when’s the last time you saw Liza?” Emma asked, shaking her head at the continuing insanity.