Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2)
Vegas is Dying
By Morgan Kelley
Copyright © 2013 Morgan Kelley LLC
All rights reserved. Without limiting rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, introduced into a retrieval system, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including without limitation photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The scanning, uploading, and/or distribution of this document via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and is punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials.
For permission requests, email author.m.kelley@gmail.com
Content Advisory: This book is intended for mature audiences and contains graphic violence, explicit sexual activity and disturbing imagery
Cover by Laura Gordon
Other works by Morgan Kelley:
Standalone Thrillers
The Junction
Serial Sins
The Blood Betrayal
FBI Romance Series
The Killing Times (Book 1)
Sacred Burial Grounds (Book 2)
True Love Lost (Book 3)
Deep Dark Mire (Book 4)
Fire Burns Hot (Book 5)
Darkness of Truth (Book 6)
Devil Hath Come (Book 7)
Consumed by Wrath (Book 8)
Redemption is Here (Book 9)
Dead Shall Speak (Book 10)
Pledging to Die (Book 11)
Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Series
Celestia is Falling (1)
Vegas is Dying (2)
Christmas is Killing (3)
Love is Bleeding (4)
Heaven is Weeping (5)
Hell is Burning (6)
Littlemoon Investigations
Blood Red Rage (Book 1)
Lost & Broken (Book 2)
Unthinkable Games (Book 3)
The Carter Chronicles
Sinner Repent (1)
Sinner Realized (2)
Sinner Reborn (3)
The Harcourte Vampyre Society series
Dangerous Revelations (1)
Dangerous Choices (2)
Dangerous Misery (3)
Behind Closed Doors Anthology
Illegal Fantasies ~ Behind Closed Doors (1)
Romance Under Arrest~ Behind Closed Doors (2)
~~~~ About the Author ~~~~
Morgan Kelley lives in the beautiful Pocono Mountains with her husband and two children. After attending college at Penn State University and studying Criminal Justice, Morgan knew her only true passion in life would be murder and books. She put them both together and began her career as a writer. Other than books and writing, you can find Morgan hanging out in her garden and digging in the dirt.
Her other works include: The Junction, Serial Sins, The Blood Betrayal, The Killing Times (1), Sacred Burial Grounds (2), True Love Lost (3), Deep Dark Mire (4), Fire Burns Hot (5), Darkness of Truth (6), Devil Hath Come (7), Consumed by Wrath (8), Redemption is Here (9), Blood Red Rage (1) Lost & Broken (2), Celestia is Falling (1), Vegas is Dying (2), Christmas is Killing (3), Love is Bleeding (4), Dangerous Revelations (1), Dangerous Choices (2), and Illegal Fantasies (Anthology 1)
Please feel free to visit Morgan at her website: www.morgankelley.com, email her author.m.kelley@gmail.com, or visit her blog at www.morgankelley.blogspot.com.
~ Prologue ~
Saturday Night
Las Vegas
As the scantily clad woman strutted across the light flooded stage, the one who would take her life watched excitedly from the third row. The experience was all about the glamour and extravagance of Vegas. The show had everything to do with all the beading, the feathers, and makeup. The women on the stage were selling nothing more than an image.
Not one detail was left out or forgotten when it came to peddling the fantasy to the hordes of tourists that flooded the city. People arrived here to be mystified and enraptured by the essence of it all. Leaving behind their boring lives, they came to get lost in a few hours of excitement. What they wanted was to watch the showgirls dance in four-inch heels, their bodies covered in neon plumage, and their smiles etched into their artfully created faces.
The ugly truth had no place beside fantasy.
The sightseers desired magic and nothing more.
What they wanted was impeccably executed transcendence under the sweltering show lights.
Very few things in life could claim perfection. From the timing of the kicks, to the spins and practiced smiles, it all appeared to be flawless. But the truth was completely different from the perception. Each of these beauties strutting on the stage was entirely fake.
Calling them defective would be an understatement to say the least.
All of them were hiding a little secret, locked away deep within their souls that could never get out.
The killer tracked each and every one of the showgirls with cold, hate filled eyes and marked them off the mental list.
The redhead was addicted to voyeuristic sex, and could only get off if people watched. The things she’d do for that adrenaline rush of a different man every night was more than perverse.
The blonde would binge on copious amounts of food, only to speed home to shove her fingers deep down her throat to purge it all away. When she believed no one was watching her in the moment of weakness, she’d eat an entire cake and then ‘play God’ with her waistline.
Then there was the one with the raven black hair. She was slender with not an ounce of fat on her very perfect body, and yet she never exercised. The reason she didn't have to work out at the gym? She was addicted to drugs. On her down hours from the show, she spent them passed out around town as high as a kite.
They each had a flaw that was tucked away from the speculative eyes of the world. It was carefully concealed from those around them as they carried the perfect secret…
Almost.
There was one person who knew the truth about each and every one of them. They were far from perfection. The women on the stage contained more plastic and silicon in their bodies than any other town. Here it was their job to be stitched together and made into the epitome of excellence. If not for them, who would put on the show for the spectators to see?
Eyes roamed the line of smiling, kicking women, finding the one who would be tonight’s statement. It was only fair that the world see Vegas for what it truly was underneath the glitz and the glamour.
Someone needed to shine the light on the most evil person in the city and set free the women trapped by his demons.
It was time to end the farce.
Now, it was all about retribution.
And destruction…
Tonight, it would all begin. There was nothing more cathartic than the deconstruction of the lies that built an empire. It was time to tear down the façade and give birth to the truth.
It was years in the making.
Watching the final minutes of the dance number, the plan began to form as how to pull it all off. First, there would be the contact, then stalking, and finally the strike to incapacitate the victim. She would need to be taken somewhere quiet so the quest to de-beautify the lies could begin.
The plan was all laid out and ready to be implemented.
The job at hand was monumental, but someone had to show everyone
the secrets hidden behind the pretty outer layer. This job was born thirty years ago in lies and falsehoods that destroyed lives. Now, it was time for revenge to rear its ugly head, making them all pay.
As the curtain dropped in the venue, the throngs of people cheered wildly, clapping and screaming for more. The amusement for the evening was over until the next day for many of them, but there was one still on the agenda.
Creeping to the back of the building, to where the dancers and showgirls escaped, the killer waited in the shadows. Counting the women as they left the building, there were a few choices as to the ideal victim. It would depend on who left last.
That’s how fate would decide.
The slowest one would be the chosen one.
It’s how it needed to be.
The heavy steel door closed and minutes ticked by. Soon, it was opened once more, and the stage manager stood there with the last woman on the crew.
Alas, the victim finally had a face. Tonight was all about the performer with the black hair. It looked like she was the unlucky loser.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to the main street for a cab?” he asked, worried about her. It was dark in the alley, and you never knew who would be lurking to rob or assault a hapless victim.
“You’re sweet, Richard, but I think I can manage. Now, go get the place cleaned up so you can head home too. I’ll see you tomorrow night for the next performance,” the women reassured him easily.
He relented, pulling the door closed behind him until the ‘click’ echoed in the night. It was a long evening at the show, and he was beyond exhausted.
Hey, he tried to be chivalrous, but he couldn’t force the woman to have common sense. That wasn’t his job. If she wasn’t in the mood for an escort, then that wasn’t his problem. At least he took the time to ask, doing what his momma had taught him years ago.
She was on her own.
Walking down the dark corridor of the alley, she wasn’t even aware of the shadow that crept beside her, keeping track of her every move. If she had been, she would have screamed and ran as fast as her heeled feet would carry her. Danger was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Prowling.
Being oblivious, it was simply another night in Vegas to the black haired beauty. Soon, she’d see how very wrong she was.
When she stumbled slightly, just barely catching her balance, a curse escaped her lips. “Damn shoes,” the dancer muttered, glad no one was there to watch her ungraceful stagger. There would be laughter that a perfectly poised showgirl nearly tripped and landed on her flawless face.
Unfortunately, someone had caught it.
In the mind of the killer, there was nothing but bewilderment as to why a woman would want to work six hours in stilettos only to put on another pair to walk home. Oh well, her stupidity was going to make it that much easier.
Looking past the first victim, the mouth of the alley was up ahead and the opportunity to make a move was slipping away.
It was now or never.
Allowing the anger and hate to grow into a deep well of violence, the figure hidden in shadows stepped from the darkness to seal the dancer’s fate. It merely took one vicious swing to meet its final mark. The sickening crunch of metal on scull filled the night air, along with the reverberation of the horrified gasp she made as the impact found its mark.
It was done.
The woman crumbled to the ground, as her head was no match for the hammer and the anger-fueled swing of the killer.
At the fracturing of skull, her life was ended.
Quickly, the body was moved and hidden behind some boxes lining the darkest recesses of the wall. Now, it would be about waiting and coming back for the deceased to begin the work.
Patience was a virtue.
All things would come to those who waited.
These were the lessons instilled many years ago in the killer’s mind.
Moving away as silently as possible, the weapon was tucked away from sight until the next life was claimed. Now, it was time to switch the tools that were needed to finish the job.
Walking from the alley, into the bright lights of Vegas, no one noticed anything out of place. As far as they were concerned, the killer was just another vacationer that was reveling in the sights.
On the surface, no emotion was present. The face that the world saw was completely and totally void of expression.
But deep down, that was far from true. What brewed within was now running the show.
Heaven help them all.
It was time.
Revenge was best served cold and dead.
Four hours later
Early Sunday before dawn
Going back for the body was easy. It was, after all, a dark alley behind the business district. Once beside the dead woman’s hiding place, she was hefted into a plastic lined cargo space and taken somewhere private.
First, she was cleaned up.
Then, she was prepped.
And at that point, the killer took her eyes. One would think pulling out the orbs would be a difficult task, but it proved to be quite easy. The hardest part was getting rid of them. A sane person didn't keep a jar full of eyeballs on a shelf in one’s kitchen.
Did they?
There was sick laughter at the visual.
Who wouldn’t find that entertaining?
Dropping them into the toilet, there was morbid fascination as they spun around the bowl. The perverse act seemed so very appropriate as the two floating, bobbing green eyes stared up blindly as they spun in circles and eventually disappeared into oblivion.
After the laughter would be the next step.
The ears.
Slowly, they were removed from the head, also finding their way into the toilet and sent off on their merry way. They didn't offer as much entertainment, since they simply floated helplessly in the blue water.
Rinsing off the knife, the last step was at hand. The needle was hook shaped, extra durable, and used for sewing upholstery.
Pushing it through the woman’s lips, they were stitched together rather easily. It took ten suture-like strokes to get it just right. Examining the job, there was happiness that finally someone was going to pay.
As the room was tidied up and the woman wrapped in plastic sheeting, it was time to dump the body and return home. Tomorrow would be a long day, waiting to see if she was found and the reaction it caused.
With a yawn and a glance at the wristwatch, the dead woman was loaded back up for transport.
Now, it was a matter of getting the attention of the world and making plans for the next victim on the list.
At first, it was thought that taking a life would be hard, but in all honesty, that was all lies.
Killing was the easy part.
Stopping was going to be the issue. That was already perfectly clear. There was satisfaction in taking apart the perfect little Barbie dolls that sold the show. This one was the first of many, and it would last until the truth was finally free.
It would all end once he received the message and realized that everything to come was entirely his fault.
By the time it was all over, revenge would be served.
Watch and see…
Sunday Night
Humming a little show tune, the killer placed the final stitch in the artificially plump lips of the second victim. Already, her eyes and ears were gone from her head and the only task remaining was to tie the final knot.
The finished product was horrifying.
It was beauty destroyed.
It was life stolen.
It was justice served.
It was much like the hopes and dreams of all the people he had ruined in his selfish life. Now he’d pay the ultimate price.
That’s why this woman had to end up in the dumpster behind one of his shows. When she was found, it would be clear who was responsible for her untimely demise.
Not the killer, but the man who set it all in mot
ion decades ago.
The police would be called and the homicide detectives would add her no longer smiling face to their list of victims that died in ‘Sin City’.
Except much like the first one, she too was special.
This victim was the next in a long line of many.
Her death wouldn’t be in vain.
If the detectives looked hard enough, they’d figure it all out and no more would have to die. All of their deaths would be on his head, and the shoulders of the police meant to save them. This was payback for years of pain.
All they needed to do was find the facts.
The truth was there. It was buried under the lies.
But until then, it was time for the guilty party to bleed...
~ Chapter One ~
Monday Morning
It was now or never, and she didn't want to open her eyes. If she did, the cold hard truth would be evident. Emma Croft would find herself in bed alone. After living her life dependent on no one for years, she was finding herself desperate to have her husband at her side. It was both warming and chilling at the same time.
God!
She missed everything about him.
Slowly rolling over to face his side of the bed, Emma peeked as if there was some chance she’d find him waiting there for her. Even though Emma was well aware it wasn’t a possibility, there was always the hope that he had snuck home early to surprise her.