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

  Her initial response was to burn it, but Emma didn't say it. “Wait until the investigation is over, and then you can sell, give away, or donate it all. Shortly, the CSI’s will be here to sweep it.”

  The woman nodded.

  “You don’t happen to know what Valerie did for a living do you?” Croft inquired, giving the older woman his best smile.

  ‘Yep, he looked like a pirate,’ Emma thought.

  “She was in one of those fancy shows- the ones where you wear the pretty extravagant costumes and headgear.”

  “You mean a showgirl?” questioned Emma.

  “Yeah! That’s it. I don’t know where though. She never mentioned over cake. I’m going to miss her. She was like a daughter to me.”

  Croft patted her on the shoulder. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

  The woman nodded and walked away.

  “How about we get something for lunch?” Emma offered as she took his hand in hers since no one was around. Not that it would matter, because she’d cling to him on duty too.

  “I don’t know if I can eat after seeing all that.”

  She laughed. “I love you, Grey.”

  Dropping his arm over her shoulder, he pulled her protectively against his frame. “I love you too, Emma. Let’s get something to eat. Oh, and a truckload of hand sanitizer.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Croft sent his partner a text, giving them directions to meet for lunch. When he received the reply, they were only a few minutes away. Sitting out in the sunlight, they were enjoying the late autumn ambiance. Vegas’s fall was more like summer out east.

  “I can’t believe it’s going to be Christmas in two months,” Emma said, enjoying the sun.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had a Christmas without snow,” Croft admitted.

  “Want to go back east for the holiday?” she asked, touching his cheek. “I know your family is important to you.”

  He stared into her eyes. “You’re my family now. All that matters is that we’re together.”

  Bringing his lips to hers, she slowly kissed him, enjoying the way her husband tasted. His tie was wrapped around her hand as she kept him trapped. They had been apart too long. As she pulled away, he took her hand and placed it over his heart, so she could feel what her kiss did to him.

  The quick thump gave away his feelings, even when on the outside his face was perfectly neutral.

  “Taking a break?” interrupted the male voice.

  Emma looked up to find two of the detectives she worked with standing in front of them. Yeah, this didn't feel right.

  “As a matter of fact, we are,” stated Croft, answering for her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” he said, standing to face the man.

  Detective Sawyer Laden took a defensive stance as if ready to have a fight. He stared at the FBI agent, measuring the man up.

  “I’m Mace Bristol,” said his partner, amicably holding out his hand. He liked Emma, and he wasn’t going to let the fact that her husband worked for the ‘dreaded’ FBI stop that. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Croft allowed his eyes to move to the Native man as he shook his hand. “I’m Greyson Croft.”

  “Yeah, Mr. FBI,” said Sawyer as if it were some kind of transferable disease or possibly leprosy.

  Greyson shrugged. “It’s my job, Detective. It’s not who I am.”

  Emma stayed seated, hoping her husband remained calm. She was well aware that the other man was very vocal and could be opinionated.

  Croft didn't care if the man liked or hated him. His only concern was how he treated his wife. The fact was he didn't like many police officials that he worked with either and for the same reason they didn't like him.

  “I guess,” Sawyer replied, and then focused on Emma. “Why didn't you tell us your husband was a Fed?”

  She stood beside Greyson. “Oh, probably because of the way you’re acting right now. I saw this bullshit coming a mile away.”

  He tensed. “We’re supposed to be a family.” The code that cops lived by was an important one. They were a band of brothers and sisters, and when one bled, they all did. “It looks sketchy that you never told us.”

  Greyson went to speak, and Emma squeezed his arm. This had to be her battle, since it was on her turf. Eventually, he’d go back to the office, and she’d be left to fend for herself.

  He didn't like it, but he remained silent.

  “So, you’re telling me that I should hate the FBI when I’m married to a man who works there?”

  “It’s a little more than working there. He’s the damn director. You saw him call Ford’s boss. It makes us wonder how you ever even got this job.”

  “Come on, Sawyer, knock it off,” Mace said, not liking what he was implying. Emma was good at her job and carried her own weight. That was obvious and this was going too far.

  “So, now, I’m a shitty detective, because I married a man in the FBI? That has to be the biggest crock of crap I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I’ll say this once, Detective Laden, so listen well. My marriage is off limits to your discussion. If you think I’ll let you disparage the man I’m with because you’re prejudice towards the FBI, you’re out of your mind. I love my husband, and I’ll stand with him- over you, over my badge, and over my own life. I’m not getting into a pissing match with you and the rest of the department, because they’re wondering if I can do my job while being happily married.”

  Croft stroked her back, reassuringly.

  “You want to know what kind of detective I am, here!” She pulled out a card and scribbled down two numbers and then handed it back to him. “Call my prior boss and ask for damn references before you judge me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one with the problem. We’re cops, and our job is to be neutral and find the facts before making a judgment. You’re doing the opposite. I hope that’s not a statement of how well you do your job.”

  Greyson was proud of his wife for standing up to the idiot. He’d bet his wife was better at her job any day.

  “Now, we’re going to have lunch. Enjoy your day.” Emma dismissed him, glancing over at Bristol. “Talk to you later, Mace.”

  The Crofts strolled away, hand in hand, a unified front together. No matter what happened, Emma knew where her allegiance would always lie, and that was with the man she loved. Where they may not see the truth, she did. Greyson Croft was honorable, hardworking and a treasure.

  “What?” questioned Sawyer Laden as he stared over at his partner of three years.

  Mace shook his head. “I’ve seen some shitty things, but that crossed a line, partner. I agree with her. I’m sorry, but when you were dating that woman who was arrested for being a call girl, no one called you a pimp, right? So why would you judge her because of her husband’s job? In fact, when the shit hit the fan, Emma defended you when some beat officers were calling you out.”

  “Feds are assholes, and we all know it,” he stated. No one could change his mind on that one.

  Mace shook his head as he walked away. Apparently, they weren’t the only ones.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Croft asked, stroking her cheek lovingly with his fingertips. He hated that he was causing angst in her life. His wife had suffered enough in the past, and he only wanted to offer her peace.

  “I’m better than okay, Grey. I have a great life and an amazing partner through it all. I don’t care if they like me or hate me.” She knew it wasn’t all the truth. There was a little piece of her heart that ached that she was despised because of him. How could they not see how truly amazing he was inside and out? It didn't matter about her, but she’d fiercely protect the man who saved her and made her whole again. Without Greyson, she would still be lost.

  “Here comes the team,” he said, watching Briggs and Detective Westmore cross the parking lot. They were laughing and smiling.

  “Hey!” Briggs said as he grinned at his boss. “I’m starving. Let’s eat!”

  E
mma led the way into the little café and took a seat beside her husband. They’d discovered the place one day as they walked around town. Since then, it had become their little lunch getaway. It was far enough away from the strip that it was mostly locals.

  “Cute place and you’ve been holding out on me,” stated Brynn, taking in the ambiance. “It’s a great day.”

  “It was a little ugly before,” she answered, telling her partner all about the scene between her and the detective.

  “Ignore him. The boy’s club sucks anyway,” she replied as she tried to cheer her partner up. “Let’s order lunch. I’m sure a big, grassy salad will make you feel better.”

  They all laughed.

  Greyson squeezed her hand under the table, knowing that they’d made a deal when eating at this place, and he expected her to stick with it. He’d skip the cholesterol if she did something outside her comfort zone. They’d been working on it for a couple of weeks, before he left on his business trip.

  Briggs ordered first, and of course, the human garbage disposal wanted the largest burger on the face of the earth.

  Following his lead, Emma’s partner also picked a burger, but with some greenery.

  Greyson believed she’d follow through, so he went next. “I’ll have a chicken salad with light dressing.”

  Briggs started laughing. “Man, married life has you beat down,” he snickered, getting a look from his partner. It shut him up fast.

  Emma contemplated her safest choices and went with a fish sandwich. When the waitress walked away, both her partner and the agent were staring at her like she’d lost her mind. This was her agreement with her husband. They’d start healing up the rest of her life that was still scarred from the past.

  “You just ordered something that was once alive. It’s the end of the world,” stated Brynn Westmore.

  “It’s no big deal,” Emma muttered, knowing how hard she’d worked. Emma wanted no one to even notice. It was like a constant reminder that she was flawed. Right then, she wished she could sink under the table and disappear.

  Immediately, her husband protected her by pulling her against his body. This little step was a huge concession to her and the past that for the longest time controlled her.

  “I don’t get what’s going on,” stated Brynn. She was confused as to why her partner looked terrified by a sandwich.

  Croft nodded at his partner, knowing he was aware of the situation. While he reassured Emma, he believed Curtis would delicately handle the explanation.

  Briggs leaned in and lowered his voice. “Emma doesn’t eat meat because she was forced to watch her brother be slaughtered by a junkie. He died in her arms. That sandwich took every ounce of courage,” he whispered.

  Her heart broke for her partner. Losing someone like that was hard. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

  The woman nodded as she focused on her husband and the soothing words he whispered only for her.

  “You’re the strongest woman I know,” he murmured as he laid kisses along the curl of her ear. “I love you.” Croft could have offered his wife the easy way out, but he wouldn’t. She’d come too far to back slide now.

  The waitress arrived and placed the food in front of her. Funny, eating in front of Greyson was so much easier when there wasn’t an audience analyzing your every movement.

  “Here, honey, have a bite,” he said, holding up a forkful of salad, minus the chicken. When she accepted and chewed it, he grinned at her. “That’s my girl.”

  Briggs figured now was the best time to talk work. It would distract Emma and give her a break. When he thought about the pain she’d endured, he wanted to protect her like a brother would his little sister.

  “I’m going to run the super’s identity when we get back to the squad,” he said, biting into his burger. He tried to keep the meaty part facing him and not Emma.

  “What did you get?” asked Croft, carrying the conversation, so his wife could concentrate on her food. Once she wasn’t focused on the first few bites, he knew she’d pull through.

  “His fingerprints,” the detective replied excitedly.

  He stared at his partner. “How’d you pull that one off, Curtis?”

  The man smiled mischievously. “I used a trick my mentor once threw out there. I wiped the tablet and asked him to hold it, and it actually worked.”

  Croft started laughing as he shook his head. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, my friend.”

  “They certainly do. I figured we’ll run him and see if anything pops up,” Briggs offered. “Did you two find anything?”

  Emma was chewing and getting past the flesh freak out. “This,” she answered, pulling the card out of her pocket. “Our second victim was seeing a therapist.”

  Thinking about it, Brynn finally spoke, “Eating disorders are common things to visit a shrink over.”

  They both began laughing, recalling the state of that apartment. “She had a bit more than food issues.” Croft pulled out his phone and passed it to his partner.

  “Oh gross,” muttered Briggs. “I’m a slob, but that’s even beyond my scope of male slovenliness. It’s a genetic thing for men to be dirty but women should be clean.”

  More laughter ensued.

  “I’m the messy one, and ‘Mr. Neat Freak’ here is the OCD candidate,” Emma answered, offering her husband a bite of her sandwich.

  “Shoving food in my face won’t keep the retorts silent, sweet stuff,” he said, taking a bite.

  She laughed and kissed him. “Yeah, okay.”

  “The irony is, that when you head into her bedroom, it was spotless,” Croft added as he chewed. “It was cleaner than our room.” Well, minus the sex toys.

  “Same at my place,” answered Briggs.

  “Why?” Detective Westmore inquired.

  Briggs didn't even think twice. “It’s where I get…” he paused, catching himself before saying ‘laid’.

  Emma began to laugh, since she knew him well enough to guess the final part of that conversation.

  “Beauty sleep,” Curtis finished as he blushed a bright red.

  Now, it was his partner’s turn to laugh outrageously. It was even funnier when the detective didn't get it.

  “What else did you find out?” Briggs asked, changing the subject. “Anything for the case?”

  Emma clued them in on her discovery. “I found a mannequin in the closet with some showgirl garb on it, and we’ve confirmation that she was indeed a dancer in a Vegas production.” Emma gave him all the details. “She had no family, so we don’t need to do a notify.”

  “It’s sad no one will know she’s gone,” answered Brynn. “Do we know if the other victim had a family?”

  “I’ll check when we get back to the squad room. I don’t want to touch my tablet until it’s printed,” he answered.

  “Terrific, thanks Curtis,” Emma said as she finally finished her lunch.

  “Want some of my salad?” he asked, praying she’d take it and save him from the leafiness.

  “Okay.” She switched plates, offering him her sandwich and fries. Emma noticed he’d left some of the chicken on his plate to get her to try it and push her boundaries.

  From the corner of his eye, he watched her while he spoke to his partner. “While you’re searching for family, check into the doctor on the appointment card. Maybe she can give us some insight into the woman or her life.”

  “Okay,” Briggs said, watching Emma staring at the piece of chicken warily. As she cut a little piece off, she closed her eyes and popped it into her mouth.

  Suddenly, her face changed and she stood. “Excuse me!” She rushed towards the ladies’ room.

  Standing, Greyson was worried. Maybe he’d pushed too hard. He needed to go see if she was all right.

  “I’ll go,” Brynn said. “You can’t go into the ladies’ room, even with a badge.

  He watched her leave and sat with a sigh. “Maybe I expect too much from Emma,” Croft finally stated.

 
“Why are you doing it to her?” Briggs asked, leaning back in his chair. He watched as his partner pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “I want to heal that last scar on her heart. She used to eat meat, and every time someone asks Emma why she’s a vegetarian, I can see the pain on her face.”

  “So you’re not doing it for you?” he inquired.

  “No!” Croft retorted angrily. “I’d never hurt her like that!”

  Briggs lifted his hand. “Okay, take a deep breath. There’s no need to have a meltdown over this. If you’re doing it for her, then back off and let her set the pace. She should be proud of the accomplishment and not worried about pleasing you. Emma will get there. Just be patient.”

  “I am patient.”

  “You need to chill out. Even super Croft can’t fix something overnight that’s been broken for years. Just relax and stop stressing, or she’ll feel the tension and it will make things worse.”

  Croft stared at his partner and was glad to have him back. He’d actually missed his observations and having him be the rational one when he’d lost his composure.

  “Thanks, Curtis.”

  “Never a problem, big guy.”

  Emma stood in the bathroom, trying to keep from tossing her lunch. When her partner came in, she felt that much worse. It was such a wussy thing that she mentally couldn’t get past a stupid piece of chicken.

  “You okay?” Brynn asked, leaning her hip against the sink beside her.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t handle the chewiness or the texture,” Emma admitted.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  What was there to say? She was a grown woman who had a fear of meat. “Ever since my brother’s death, I can’t eat flesh.”

  Her partner nodded. “I see. Why are you trying to eat it then? Is it because of your husband? Is he making you?”

  Emma shook her head, appalled that her partner could ever think Greyson would force her to do anything. “No! I asked him to help me. I want to be normal again. I’m so sick of feeling broken and damaged by this. Greyson is helping me as I fight to get control back in this part of my life.”