Hell Is Burning Page 13

  He saw her and knew she was the one. It was all about how she flirted and carried herself. It was like she wanted to be the center of attention for the world to see.

  Oh, he’d seen it before, and it pissed him off.

  She was all about flaunting her body, giving them what they wanted, and it sickened him.

  He couldn’t help but plan her death.

  She was wicked.

  She was vile.

  She was evil.

  A part of him, a very small piece, didn't want to bother with her, but he knew history was repeating itself. She was promoting her wicked ways, and he didn't want to see it anymore. Someone should have taught her better manners growing up.

  Unfortunately, she was in his crosshairs.

  So, something had to be done.

  He knew her routine, and it would be easy to get to her. If anything, she was predictable. On Wednesday nights, she liked to return and flaunt herself even more. It was like she couldn’t get enough of everyone’s attention.

  Men.

  Women.

  She didn't care.

  So, he made his plan. That’s when he’d get her.

  She was meant to follow the others.

  He had no choice.

  It was destiny.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Las Vegas

  High Rise

  Dimitri Gideon sat in his luxury condo doing his work. Money bought him this little piece of heaven, and he never wanted to go back to the life before this.

  Poverty sucked, and he knew better than most that it wasn’t easy fighting your way out of the ghettos of Russia. So many tried, and they’d failed.

  He was a success story, but only because he’d been willing to do anything it took to make it out. Oh, he’d created himself, breaking the law, bending the truth, and tempting fate, but he’d survived. Whether people liked or hated the job he did, it didn't negate that it was important.

  He was important.

  Right now, he and his team were watching the Crofts. From the black leather couch, to the chrome surrounding him, he was taking care of business.

  “What did you find?” Katerina Gideon asked, coming into the room with a cup of tea for each of them.

  “There’s the normal chatter,” he offered, glancing over at his sister. Dimitri loved her very much. She was one of the few in the family that he had left in this world.

  To him, that’s all that mattered.

  It’s why he could sympathize with men like Randall Mason and Greyson Croft.

  “Are they going to make a move on them?” she asked.

  He contemplated it. “Likely. We’ll have to step in and take care of it.”

  Then Dimitri stared over at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to get yourself dirty with these kinds of things, Kat. I can handle it.”

  She loved her brother and this was one of the reasons why. He was so damn protective. Leaning over, she dropped a kiss to his cheek. From behind the luxurious sweep of dark hair, she grinned at him. “I do have to help. This is our life, and you’re my partner in crime. Well, so to speak.”

  He dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll take Croft, you take his wife.”

  “He’s pretty hot,” she stated. “You got the good one. I wouldn’t mind taking him.”

  Dimitri laughed at her silliness. “His wife is too, and you know the rules. Hands off the bosses or we lose the clientele. He’s happily married, and we want him to stay that way.” Dimitri knew his sister was beautiful, and they would often use her as bait to get to a horny man. He didn't want to hurt her, but honestly, Greyson Croft only had eyes for his wife. He couldn’t blame the man. The red head was gorgeous.

  She could give his sister a run for her money.

  “Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying. Don’t stress it. He’s really not my type. He’d eat me alive.”

  He glanced over at his sister. “Do we have to go there? I don’t need the visuals in my head, and if I dust you for prints, I’m killing someone.”

  She punched him, her aqua eyes twinkling. “You have to let me have some fun,” she teased.

  He didn't have to do any such thing. Katerina was his responsibility, and he wasn’t going to let her get hurt. He would keep his own safe, and that’s all that mattered.

  “No flirting with the Crofts.”

  “When do we move?”

  He focused on his data. “Tomorrow, we start tailing them. We have to make sure no one is going to take them out. If they do, we lose our biggest client.”

  She laughed. “Uh, your only client. You dumped everything else to babysit the Fed and cop. That’s probably not your smartest move.”

  He didn't disagree, but when Randall Mason asked, he didn't have the heart to say no. Then, as he did the research on them, he found them intriguing. Something told him to follow that path.

  Why?

  Dimitri had that gut feeling.

  He always listened to his inner voice. As a soldier, it saved him countless times. This wasn’t going to be any different.

  “Just be ready to tail them tomorrow. We have work to do. Speaking of which…break time is over. I have to get back to my intel gathering.”

  Katerina took that as her cue. She knew her brother, and well. Getting up, she dropped a kiss to his cheek before heading out of the room. Katerina couldn’t wait to begin.

  This case fascinated her.

  Lately, she’d been bored and missing something.

  Somehow, she had to believe big things were coming.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Well, having money did have its perks.

  Inside the condo’s garage, Greyson Croft had to figure a way to get them out of there without the throngs of reporters waiting for them.

  What he really needed was a bat cave. Then he could come and go as he wanted.

  Wouldn’t that be nice?

  Instead of sweating it, he pulled rank and called for the limo. As it came to pick him and Emma up, he knew what he was going to do.

  Leaning in, he told the driver to head to the police station and park in the lot. Hopefully, a few media vultures would assume Emma was inside.

  When the limo left, from his vantage point, he could see all but three took off. Well, the last few he could lose. Pointing toward his Challenger, he grinned.

  “Oh, boy,” Emma stated. “Someone’s in the mood to drive like a lunatic.”

  He revved the engine.

  Hell yeah, he was. Rarely, did he get the chance to act like a kid. Being head Fed was a heavy burden. Now he could screw with the media.

  It was his favorite thing to do.

  When they exited the underground garage, he nearly clipped some slow reporter who was in his way. When the tires squealed, and the man looked like a deer in headlights, Greyson giggled.

  Emma stared at him. “The pressure has to be getting to you.”

  He gunned it, laughing even more. To him, avoiding and eluding the press had become a hobby.

  Score one for his vehicle and trickery.

  As they headed out, he lost the last few reporters by taking the long way to the detective’s home.

  Emma held on for dear life as he took the turns and curves like he was driving a Formula One vehicle. “You should take the Limo to work from here on out. I think you need your license revoked. Scratch that. I’m going to make sure it’s taken away from you.”

  He laughed as he pulled up to the detective’s home. “Good cop and bad Fed?” he asked.

  From the sexy gray eyes to the way he knotted his tie, she couldn’t say no to him. “You know that game gets me hot and bothered.”

  Yeah, he was well aware.

  That’s why he always did it. Watching Emma play cop was one of his favorite things. She didn't notice the transformation, but he did.

  It was subtle.

  And as hot as hell.

  As they approached the house, Greyson felt off. He just couldn’t put his finger on i
t. Instinctually, he placed his body behind Emma’s to act as a shield. She’d kill him if she figured out he was playing armor, but that was life.

  When she knocked, no one came to the door.

  It finally took Croft banging with his fist to get someone’s attention.

  “Jesus!” the man muttered as he opened the door. “I was sleeping.”

  Then he recognized them.

  “Oh, shit! Who’s dead?”

  “Can we come in, Detective?” Emma asked.

  He stepped back. He knew the woman from seeing her on the TV, and he recognized the man as her husband. If the Croft duo was making a visit, the FBI was assisting someone with a death.

  “Yeah, come on in and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

  Emma declined and continued, “We’re here to talk to you about someone you’re acquainted with who’s been killed. We’re working the case.”

  He leaned back in his chair before dropping his bare feet onto the coffee table as he checked them out. He’d heard a lot about these two from his partner in vice. Brynn cared about them, and he trusted her judgment. If she said Emma was the best, he’d buy it.

  “Okay, who?”

  “Your partner.”

  “What?” he asked, leaning forward as those two words caught him off guard. “What do you mean my partner? You investigate deaths.”

  They let it hang in the air between them.

  “No, you’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head.

  Detective Greg McGuire ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, holy shit. Something happened to Brynn?”

  Emma took that opportunity to keep going, but she opted not to rush head first into the semen part of the discussion. She had a feeling once she did…he’d clam up. “We need to talk to you about her.”

  “Of course I’ll help out all I can,” he stated.

  “What were you two working on?” Croft interjected, trying to get information from the man before Emma dropped the DNA/sex bomb.

  “We were working on a drug sting. We had an alley staked out.”

  “Brynn didn't show up to work last night?” Croft asked.

  “She was off for a couple of days. We were going to switch off because of overtime constraints. She pulled long hours the last week, and I was up to bat.”

  He looked nervous.

  “Why are you sweating?” Emma asked.

  The man shrugged. “Well, you just came to my house and told me that my partner is dead. That’s enough to rattle my cage. Wouldn’t you be stressed?” he asked, pointing at Greyson.

  Emma was accustomed to cops. If this man thought he could turn this around, making her fall into his trap, he had another thing coming.

  “Well, I’m shacked up with my partner, so I imagine that would freak me out a great deal. It’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about that. I mean…Brynn was married, so she was off the table. If not, you’d be on our radar as a suspect.”

  He stared at her, but said nothing.

  It was like he was trying to read her mind.

  “Brynn was great. She worked hard, and she didn't mind taking one for the team.”

  Oh, Emma bet. Apparently, the woman didn't mind taking a lot of things, and mostly from the man in front of them. It pissed her off that she was cheating on Curtis. That was a douchebag thing to do.

  Greyson would have laughed if this wasn’t serious. The man was digging the hole, and his sexy detective was getting ready to slam the door shut. Really, she didn't even need him there. A lot had changed since Celestia.

  “When was the last time you saw her?” Emma asked.

  “We got off work two days ago around ten thirty. She drove, so she dropped me off here, and then said something about heading home.”

  “And that’s the last time you saw her? Did she stay after dropping you off? I need a timeline.”

  “Yes, she stayed maybe forty five minutes to talk and have a beer. You know…to decompress.”

  Emma leaned forward. “Is that all?”

  He stared at her. “Yes.”

  “Well, then you have a problem. There’s someone running around with your DNA. She had sex before she was killed, so you were either just getting off with her, or you’re the killer.”

  He swallowed. His face said it all.

  “Want to tell us which one? Or did you loan your dick and testicles out for the night? I happen to have a boatload of sperm from the person boning Brynn Westmore-Briggs.”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it. “I think I’d like my legal representation before I answer any more of your questions.”

  Emma sat back. “Want to know why you vice cops are still in vice and not in homicide?” she asked. “If it were me with my hand caught in the partner cookie jar, I’d own it. I’d give it up because I know how damn bad this makes you look.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, says the two of the most crooked cops in Vegas. You have your hands in plenty of jars.”

  Greyson hated that he’d put his wife in this position. When they were trying to catch the corruptor, this had been his biggest fear. It made Emma’s life hard.

  “I’m not under investigation.”

  When the man opened his mouth, Greyson pointed at him. “If you think I’m so crooked, then you know opening your mouth to insult my wife will be a huge mistake. Who knows what I’ll do to you?”

  It seemed to work.

  “Listen. I didn't do anything wrong. Brynn was having a rough patch in her marriage, and I was there for her. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were having sex. I own that, but I didn't kill her. I liked her.”

  Greyson had to know. “She was married. You didn't think that ruining a marriage was an issue?”

  He shrugged, and Croft wanted to kick his ass. There was nothing more sacred to him than a person’s vows. He respected his wife more than anything in the world. Greyson wouldn’t hurt Emma that way.

  Ever.

  “I didn't destroy it. From what she said, her husband did. He was a controlling asshole. He told her they had to move, she had to leave homicide, and he checked on her a million times a day. If you’re looking for the reason she was sleeping with me, maybe you should start there.”

  Croft lifted a brow. That kind of sounded a lot like him. He’d gotten Emma to leave her sheriff position, he’d bought a condo without asking her, and he sent about twenty texts a day.

  Well, shit.

  Hopefully, she didn't see him that way or it would suck big time.

  “Brynn was sick of it. She didn't want to feel like she was under some man’s thumb. What was next? He’d be telling her what to wear too.”

  Croft started to get worried. When they were home, he was always asking Emma to wear something he’d picked out. He dressed her the way he liked.

  Oh, holy hell.

  Was he that big of an asshole too?

  Did Emma see him that way?

  “She didn't want to be with him anymore. In fact, she’d filed for divorce. Brynn was moving on. Yes, I slept with a married woman, but I didn't hurt her. So, you can shove your whole theory that I destroyed a marriage up your ass. I was just someone to lean on when she was worried.”

  Emma didn't buy that.

  He helped destroy a marriage, and it pissed her off. While Curtis was trying to save it, Brynn had already emotionally and physically checked out. She’d warned the woman not to hurt Curtis, and she’d still done it.

  This whole thing sucked.

  It put her in the middle, and Emma knew who she was going to side with.

  “Again, I don’t think you two should judge. You’re both filthy rich, and that kind of money taints people. Look at the criminals we hunt down--the drug dealers, the pimps, and the other scum. They want the money, and when they get it, they all turn bad.”

  Emma didn't go there. If she did, she’d punch him in the face. Her husband was sterling, and they were trying to clean up this shithole town. It had cost them t
heir reputations. This man didn't deserve to judge them.

  He didn't have a clue.

  No one did.

  Half the people in the city thought they were on the take, but they were wrong, and she was going to prove it to the whole damn population if it was the last thing she did.

  “We’ll see you in interview, Detective. Have a good day.”

  As they headed out, Greyson dropped his arm around her shoulders. “If it’s any consolation, my money was on you,” he stated.

  She didn't say anything.

  Once in the car, he looked over at her.

  “Am I that bad?”

  “What?” she asked, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “What the heck are you talking about, Greyson?”

  Then it hit her.

  “Wait, are you talking about Curtis or Brynn? Are you talking about infidelity?”

  She looked panicked.

  “NO! Wait! I was talking about how big of a caveman I am. I wouldn’t cheat on you, Emma. Not in a million years. I found my other half.”

  “Well, you’re definitely a caveman.”

  That didn't make him feel any better.

  “I dragged you out here, I made you take this job, and you dress for me all the time. Just this morning I picked out your sexy girly things. If I’m just like Curtis, what’s stopping you from leaving me when you’re sick of it?”

  This was his biggest fear.

  One day, his wife would wake up and decide that she didn't want to do this anymore, and he would be alone.

  “Grey.”

  “I can change if that’s what it takes. I can’t lose you, Emma. You’re my heart.”

  She took his hand in hers. “If you do change a single thing about you, I’ll be pissed. I happen to love you just the way you are, Greyson. I love how caring and gentle you are. When we left Celestia, it was nice knowing that my husband had a job that mattered. I’m married to a very powerful man, and with that comes great responsibility.”

  He stared at her.

  “I don’t only dress for you, Grey. I like getting dressed up, and I also do it because the freaking media is all over us. If I go out without makeup or my hair in a simple ponytail, I’ll be all over the news.”