Hell Is Burning Page 15

  “I hate the Feds, but Greyson Croft is a decent man. He’s my friend. You know I don’t take many on in my life. You have to prove yourself to me, and then I let you in. I call Greyson and Emma Croft my friends.”

  It spoke volumes.

  “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

  “You have to. They’re damn good as a team. They’ll find the person who killed Brynn.”

  “Which of my people was having the affair?” Gary Sherwood asked.

  “Her partner. We have DNA confirmation, so before you tell me that’s not possible, we have him locked down.”

  “Oh, come on! McGuire knows better. This is a mess,” Gary Sherwood said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “The second we saw her name come up on the news, we knew there was going to be a hot mess. Then my detectives saw who was working it, and it practically exploded.”

  “She’ll stick and finish this,” he reassured.

  “It’s hard to put your faith in someone who owns more property than God. That’s why my men are riled up. For Christ’s sake, she owns my apartment building!”

  Ford understood. “The Crofts are good people, and they own mine too, but that’s not her fault. She inherited Mason’s mess. We have to look at her spotless record, and trust that she’ll hold up under the task at hand.”

  He knew his friend was right. “Okay, what do you need from us?”

  “Emma and Greyson went over to interview your detective. We both know he’s going to cry representation.”

  “I would if I was him.”

  “As would I, but we want to keep this quiet. Brynn’s got a husband, and this sucks for him too. He may be a Fed, but if he finds out that your guy was jumping Brynn’s bones, we’re going to have a bigger mess. Someone’s going to get hurt. I don’t think that’s what we want or need right now.”

  He had a point. “What can I do?”

  “We need all the files for the cases that they were working on, even if they closed them in the last month or so.”

  “You think she crossed paths with the killer while on the job?”

  “Yeah, we do, Gary. How else did she fall into this?” Ford kept what he knew close to the vest. His allegiance lay with his detective and head Fed, even though he and Gary went way back.

  “Okay, I can do that. In exchange, I want something back from your department.”

  “You know we can’t give you the case, and I can’t let your team in. It’s conflict of interest. We have a serial killer, and Brynn got in the crossfire. The FBI is assisting now that we have three victims.”

  He was aware.

  “I want to question my detective. I’ll get a whole lot more out of him, and then we can avoid this IAB mess. We don’t need the internal affairs cops in on this. My house had some issues in the past, and I’m working on cleaning it up. You know me, Chris. I run a tight ship, and I’ll play fair with your detective if you bend a little.”

  He was good with that. “Okay, but don’t pull punches. If my cops have to go at him another round, it’ll be no holds barred.”

  Gary laughed. “Have I ever gone easy on someone?”

  He supposed not. “Thank you, Gary. We have a deal.”

  They shook hands.

  “On the way out, look pissed and like you didn't get your way, okay?”

  Ford laughed. “Sure thing. Want me to kick someone on my way to the door in a temper tantrum? There was that cop that made the comment about Emma Croft. I’d like to wipe the smirk off his puss.”

  Gary grinned. “No, that’s okay. I’ll get you the interview transcripts as soon as I can.”

  Chris went to leave.

  “Ford?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get the SOB who killed my detective. I need his head on a silver platter in order to keep my men from going rogue and getting in Emma Croft’s way. I can only hold them back for so long, and you know it.”

  Chris knew there’d be justice. By the time the Crofts were done with this killer, there wouldn’t be much left.

  He’d bet on it.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Wednesday Afternoon

  When the Crofts arrived in the conference room at the FBI building, the team was already working. They had a whiteboard set up and were adding all the details from the victims’ lives.

  It made their jobs a lot easier that their team knew the routine. Paris was working on the profile, Tessa and Mace were digging into the dead women’s pasts, and it looked like they were making progress.

  Greyson was about to offer to buy them lunch when his phone began ringing. Glancing down, he saw it was his brother.

  “Yo, Dante, what’s up? We’re about to start working on the case. What’s wrong?”

  “He’s gone!”

  “What?” Croft asked. “What do you mean he’s gone? You were supposed to be babysitting Curtis!”

  Everyone looked up.

  “I know!”

  “Then how the bloody hell did you lose him in our freaking living room?”

  “He wanted Chinese, but they don’t deliver to this place, so I had to walk around the block to get it. He was in his room when I left and I figured it was okay. I mean…I was only gone fifteen minutes, and he bailed.”

  “Shit!”

  Greyson didn't know where he’d go.

  “It gets worse.”

  He didn't like that at all.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I went into his room, and he had one of your work tablets. It was open, and logged into your email.”

  That was a very bad thing. All the reports were in his email. “Shit! He took my spare from our bedroom! I’m going to kick his nosey ass!”

  Emma began looking more and more worried.

  “He read the autopsy reports, and he boosted Emma’s Navigator. I checked and security said he rolled out with it a few minutes ago. It’s gone.”

  Emma was watching her husband.

  “He stole your ride, honey.” It was official. He was going to kill the man when he got his hands on him.

  “Is the safe locked up? I placed his sidearm and clutch piece in there.”

  Dante looked. “Yes. I don’t think he left here armed, but who knows if he robbed a gun shop at this point. He’s already hacked the FBI server and stole a cop’s car. What wouldn’t he do?”

  Dante had a point.

  “Okay, I can find him. Stay there and if he comes back, let me know. You have my permission to knock him out and handcuff him to a chair.”

  “Will do.”

  Croft hung up. “Tessa, find my wife’s vehicle.”

  She grabbed her tablet and began searching. When the tablet sounded, she read off the address.

  Emma stood there staring. “You lo-jacked my ride without telling me? Are you freaking kidding me, Grey? You had me GPS’d? I’m a cop for Christ’s sake!” She was horrified.

  “Sue me. We had people trying to kill us. If it’s any consolation, my vehicle is tagged too. It was a precaution in case either of us went missing--AGAIN!”

  He had a point.

  It calmed her down.

  Tessa wanted to laugh. She loved working with the Crofts. They were entertaining as hell. “I have it boss. It’s just pulling to a stop outside a house.”

  She rattled off the location.

  “Shit!”

  He knew that address because they’d just been there to do an interview. Curtis was going to do something so stupid unless they stopped him.

  Running from the room, Emma was right behind him. They didn’t have a lot of time to save their loved one from ruining his life.

  Curtis Briggs was a dead man when he got his hands on him.

  When they finally arrived at the address, there was Emma’s Navigator. It was up on the curb, nearly decapitating a fire hydrant. Obviously, Curtis had been in one hell of a hurry to get there.

  Before he could get angry over her vehicle’s treatment, Greyson heard one hell of a commotion from
inside the man’s house.

  They were just in time for round one.

  Great!

  Racing up the stairs, Emma had her gun pulled just in case. Instead, Greyson planned on beating some sense into the men. As they pushed open the door, someone slammed into the wall.

  The whole place shook.

  It looked like Curtis had lost his mind. Apparently, being a suspect wasn’t enough, but now he wanted to toss in assault on a cop to it too.

  Croft jumped the flipped couch and raced headlong into the mêlée. He already had a busted up nose. What was a few more bumps and bruises.

  It was a shitty week anyway.

  He dodged a punch, and under his breath he began swearing up a storm. If Curtis didn't get his ass kicked, he was going to be doing it.

  There was no doubt in his mind.

  Greyson plowed into Curtis, pulling him off the bleeding cop. He could see his wife from his peripheral doing the same to the detective.

  Fortunately, Detective McGuire wasn’t as far lost in the anger. As soon as Emma jumped in, he stopped fighting.

  “I want him arrested! He assaulted me!”

  It looked like he’d gotten in a few shots too. Both men were a bloody mess.

  When he spoke, Curtis lunged again, and Greyson managed to keep him back.

  “You were fucking my wife behind my back!” Curtis shouted. “You’re an asshole and ruined my marriage.”

  “Hey! You couldn’t keep your wife happy. That’s on you, not me!”

  Curtis went to reach for him, and nailed Greyson in the face again. Emma had enough. Since the detective was calmed down, she went to help her husband. ‘Accidentally’, she nailed Curtis in the groin. He went to his knees.

  Greyson tasted blood. “You’re not filing a report,” he stated, directing it at the other man.

  “Why not? He assaulted me in my own home!”

  Greyson played his favorite card. “If you do, your name is coming out in the media, and you’re going to look like the scumbag you are. You were shagging some man’s wife. You think there’s going to be a nice spin on that.”

  Curtis gasped from the ground.

  “He’s going to have everyone’s sympathy, and you’re going to be judged by the world as the jerk diddling a married woman. Do you want to go to your favorite bar and have everyone know you because of that?”

  He closed his mouth.

  “Good choice.”

  “Get him out of my house. If he comes back, I don’t care what you say. I’m having him arrested. This was his one shot at me. From here on out, I shoot intruders who come into my house. It’s my right.”

  It was the best outcome they could hope for at that point. At least they saved Curtis’s ass.

  This time.

  Greyson pulled the young agent out of the detective’s house. They lucked out, and he wasn’t going to take any more chances.

  Outside, Greyson pointed at his wife’s vehicle. “If you pull this shit again, son, he’s going to be the least of your problems. That was grand theft auto, and it could end your damn career. In fact, as of right now, you’re on administrative leave. You stole a car, you punched out a suspect, and you’re acting like a lunatic.”

  The media was starting to arrive. They’d had a few tails leaving the LVPD, and this was the last thing they needed for the case.

  This would make one hell of a sound bite.

  “Grey, I’ll take him back to our place. I’ll meet you there.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Emma, can you handle the team? I have to check in with the FBI to make sure my agents aren’t burning the place to the ground.”

  “Okay,” she offered.

  “If possible, we need them to work late tonight. They can do it from home. By tomorrow, we need all they can get.”

  She agreed. Emma knew her husband was under a shitload of stress. Not only was he helping her with this mess, but there was an office full of agents that needed him. There was a great deal on his shoulders.

  Pulling Curtis by the arm, she led him to her vehicle. “Get in, and don’t make me cuff you.”

  The media vehicles were already there, and they were snapping pictures.

  Curtis did as she ordered as he tried not to listen to the questions the people were shouting at him.

  They wanted to know why his wife was dead. They wanted to know if he had anything to do with it.

  They wanted all the sordid details.

  Yeah, well, so did he.

  “I can’t believe you,” she stated, glancing over at him as she followed Greyson’s vehicle back toward Sky Villa. “He’s trying to keep your ass out of the sling, and you’re making it nearly impossible. What are you trying to do?” she asked. “Do you want him to fire you? You’ve just put him in a bad situation, and in front of the media so he can’t bury it!”

  “I want in.”

  Emma laughed. “Yeah, well you can kiss that option goodbye. You just buried yourself.”

  She pulled out her phone and ignored Curtis’s objections. She didn't want to hear it. Greyson was going out on a limb for the man, and he should know better.

  Yeah, his wife was dead.

  Yeah, she cheated on him.

  But you couldn’t kick the shit out of her lover. This was more proof that Curtis should have been pulled the second his wife was found.

  “Hey, Tessa,” Emma said when the woman answered the phone. “Can you guys wrap up the research on the first victims?”

  “Sure thing, Emma. We can work late.”

  “Greyson wants you all to head home and work from there. We just ran into the media. They’re going to be all over the FBI building and the LVPD as soon as they figure out you’re working this. It’s safer at home.”

  Who knew what else the media was going to find out? By tomorrow, the entire team could be outed, and no one would have any peace.

  “Yeah, we can head out. Is Curtis okay?” she asked, feeling bad for her partner.

  “He’s alive,” she began.

  For now at least.

  When she got him home, Greyson might actually kick his ass. That’s why he wanted Curtis with her. Obviously, her husband wanted a break to think. “Later, he may not be. Greyson is not happy.”

  Curtis glanced over at her tone.

  “If you need anything,” Tessa offered, “give us a call. We can come over and play babysitter. If you need some brain shrinking, you know who to call.”

  Emma heard Paris laugh in the background. Her team was trying to calm the situation.

  Thank God for them.

  “That would be great. See you at seven tomorrow morning for a full debriefing.”

  She hung up the phone and turned on the radio. It helped drown out Curtis and his whining.

  Honestly, she hoped her husband did kick his ass.

  Really.

  Enough was enough.

  * * * Croft & Croft * * *

  Inside Sky Villa, Greyson was pacing back and forth. His wife had detoured and sent him a text that she’d be late getting back there. Honestly, he didn't know whether to be worried or happy to get a break from Curtis.

  What he wanted to do was beat some sense into the man. What he could do was be patient.

  It wasn’t easy.

  After all, his ‘child’ had lost his wife to a horrible crime. Calm, collect heads were going to prevail, and he didn't need to flip out.

  He couldn’t.

  Now he was trying to stay calm, and this time it had nothing to do with the man riding with his wife. This time it was because of his ME.

  Doctor Bentley had him worried.

  Since he’d suggested that they had two killers, Greyson couldn’t help but worry. Immediately, his mind went to Dominic Marianna.

  Could he be screwing with them? Was Brynn Westmore-Briggs a distraction?

  This would be something right up his alley. The man wanted the power, and right now, Greyson had shut his ass down.

  It would be just like the man
to take a shot at him, and everyone in Vegas knew Curtis was his to protect. They didn't know about the blowout, or how they’d gone their separate ways. If Brynn was killed because of him, he’d never forgive himself.

  Then he had to worry Emma would be next.

  That would kill him.

  Vegas was making him a royal mess. All the money, crime, and bullshit was stressing Croft out. All he could hope was they’d survive it all.

  When he heard her key in the lock, his heart stopped pounding. Rushing toward the door, he found his wife smiling as she was toting a present for him.

  In her arms were two pizzas and a six pack of beer.

  Hallelujah.

  “I picked up an early dinner. I figured after you finished wringing his neck, you’d be hungry.”

  Oh, she was right.

  It was like her words were the cue for the fight to begin. Immediately, Greyson spun, facing off with the younger man.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Greyson roared, directing his anger at his agent. “Have you lost your damn mind, Curtis? You hacked my email, you stole a car, and you beat up a cop. That’s careless, crazy behavior, and I raised you better than that.”

  Emma lifted a brow.

  That sounded like something her father would say to her and Gage growing up. It was clear her husband was disappointed in a man he called son.

  “I can’t believe you!”

  “My wife is dead! That’s what’s wrong with me. You read the autopsy reports and didn't tell me. You knew she was cheating on me! The entire time you’ve known about this, you’ve been looking at me and thinking…‘That poor guy. His wife was riding someone else’s dick’!”

  Greyson didn't like the accusation the man was making.

  “We weren’t thinking that, Curtis. We were too damn worried you’d eat your fucking gun! That had to come first!”

  The younger agent stormed around the room trying to vent some of the anger eating away at him.

  “You should have told me! I would have told you!”

  No one bought that. There was no way any sane person would tell Greyson Croft, after his wife’s death, that she was cheating on him. That was like dumping a barrel of gasoline on a raging forest fire.