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

  He reached behind her, shutting off the stove as he planned a little pre-dinner sex session. Just as his hands found her ass, and he had pulled her against the front of him, the intercom buzzed.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Croft, you have a visitor. He’s on your welcome list, so we sent him up.”

  Grayson let out a string of profanity. He was so close to getting his wife naked and in his lap. “I may have to kill him,” he muttered as Emma giggled uproariously.

  At the knock, he released his wife. When he opened the door, his irritation was completely gone once he saw the man’s face. Briggs looked miserable as sin.

  “Dad, Mom, can I move back in?” he asked, praying they’d let him stay.

  Emma moved to the door and stared at her husband’s partner. He looked like he’d been run through the ringer. Immediately, she wanted to mother him. “We’re eating in a few minutes, so drop your things on the couch, wash up, and meet us out on the balcony.”

  He was beyond grateful.

  When he was out of ear reach, they looked at each other.

  “Woman troubles?” Croft questioned, unsure what was going on. Maybe his wife had a clue.

  Emma didn't know what happened, but it wasn’t good. “Oh yeah, and from the look of it, they’re really big ones.”

  ~ Chapter Seven ~

  He found them outside at the table, waiting for him to join them. Like people who loved unconditionally, they said nothing, but welcomed you into the warmth of their lives.

  On his way over, he actually contemplated heading to a hotel to crash for the night. He only knew that he couldn’t stay with Brynn. Not after today. It would have been one hell of a fight, and he’d look like an idiot. Not every woman liked a man who was out of control. Emma was obviously a special girl. Brynn didn't seem to fit that category when it came to caveman behavior.

  Why make it more of a mess?

  When she went to shower, he grabbed his things and escaped into the night. As they were heading back to her place after work, it was very uncomfortable. Unlike the previous night, being there felt wrong. For a while, he contemplated moving in with her, only as roommates, since she had a pretty nice apartment. That was until the thought of sitting there alone while she was out rolling around with other men, churned his gut. He kept telling himself he was young, this was Vegas, and he should be out getting laid, but something was holding him back.

  Now there was only one place to go.

  Curtis grew up an only child, so he didn't have that camaraderie with anyone in his life. The relationship with Emma and Greyson was the closest thing he’d ever have to a brother and sister.

  And he was grateful to have them.

  Yeah, he was his boss, but he couldn’t help but admire him. Greyson Croft was tough, smart and got the beautiful girl on day two. Who didn't respect that in a man? The boss had been a soldier, and he figured that only made him tougher. What he wanted was to be like Greyson Croft when he grew up.

  Out on the balcony, he took a seat, still not speaking.

  Emma broke the tension. “I hope you like mushrooms,” she offered. Whatever had happened was bound to come out.

  Croft handed him a beer. What Curtis needed was a few drinks, a little sleep, and some time to sort it all out. That combination generally helped beat back the woman demons that chased you.

  He knew that from his own past.

  “I do, and it smells really good, Emma. Thank you.”

  They all began eating and Greyson had to admit that if he didn't know it wasn’t vegetarian, he’d think it was some piece of red meat. Okay, she could make this one all the time.

  “Is it okay, boys?” she asked, waiting for her husband’s approval. She’d read online that portabella’s tasted ‘meaty’ and she wanted to try to give him something.

  “I love it,” he mumbled around a mouthful of Mexican meatless goodness. “I could eat this every night until I’m old.”

  Briggs nodded. “It’s great.”

  The answer lacked so much enthusiasm that they both caught it.

  “Okay, spill it,” he said, sipping his wine. “You look like hell, you’re barely eating, and you passed up an opportunity to make a comment on my age. That’s not like you. You’re way off your game and that’s disturbing.”

  “I think I’m going crazy.”

  Both stopped and stared at him. Okay, maybe they’d been wrong and this had nothing to do with women.

  “You need to explain that one, Curtis,” his boss said, staring at him. “Crazy in cuckoo or…” If the man was burning out from the job already, as his boss, there were big problems on the horizon.”

  Suddenly, the dam broke.

  “I’m not even sleeping with her, and I feel like punching the hell out of something!”

  Greyson shrugged at his wife. This was babe drama, and it wasn’t something he ever was going to understand. He’d have to defer to his woman on this one. The only advice in his head was to just have sex with her, despite his ‘no one night stand’ rule. Maybe it wouldn’t just be a one-time deal. He wasn’t a proponent to hook ups, but if the boy was this riled, maybe he should just jump in and do it.

  “Are you this worked up because of the lab tech, Curtis?” Emma asked, touching his arm.

  “Yeah, he strolled on in there and acted like he owned her, and you for that matter. I wanted to follow him out and kick the shit out of him in the parking lot!”

  “Now, you see how I feel every second of the day,” Croft offered as he pointed at his woman. “When I first met her, I was a raging lunatic. Do I need to remind you of the entire Reese episode where I nearly lost my damn mind?”

  Emma laughed. “Yeah, you were a lunatic- as in past tense. That fits.” She rolled her eyes.

  Croft grinned wickedly when she winked at him.

  “What do I do about it?”

  “Are you feeling this way because you like her?”

  He shrugged. “I’m going to be twenty five soon. Is that too young to really want to be with someone? I mean look at you, boss. You’re over the hill and finally caught the babe.”

  “Making up for earlier, huh?” he asked laughing.

  “When you fall for someone, age really isn’t something you dwell on. Everything just happens and you go from there,” Emma offered. “If it’s meant to be, nothing will stop it. Look at me and the geezer.”

  Croft choked on his wine. “Emma!”

  She giggled. “A very sexy, virile geezer.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. Croft would show her later. “You didn't sleep with her yet, did you?”

  Curtis shook his head no. “I told you I’m not doing one night stands.” Then, he told them everything she’d said, what happened, and why he stayed there.

  “You’re welcome here anytime.”

  “Good, because I’m not moving out of here ever again!” Now, he was smiling. “If I have bad dreams, can I sleep with you, Mom?”

  Croft smacked him on the back of the head. “Watch it, son, or I’ll drop you off the balcony. If you try the sleep walking excuse next, you’re a dead man.”

  Emma laughed at the interplay between them. There was nothing but genuine respect and love between both men.

  “I feel better,” he admitted as he started to eat his dinner again. “This is really good, Emma.”

  Now, Croft was grinning. They’d just been talking about starting a family, and now, it looked like they picked up a fully grown kid along the way. Who needed to have babies?

  Thank God, at least he didn't have to pay for college.

  After all the dinner dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, they gave him a tour of the condominium, showing him to his room and bathroom. They gave him the one furthest away from theirs, just to preserve some of their privacy. After all, they were newlyweds.

  Saying goodnight, they headed down the hallway to their own room. In the bathroom, the wheels were turning in Greyson’s mind as they brushed their teeth.

  “You know we’ll never get r
id of him now.”

  Emma grinned. “Yep.”

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Do you think he’ll work it out?”

  “They might.”

  At least he had a fifty/fifty shot. “Want to climb into bed, get naked, and have really quiet, unobtrusive, almost nonexistent parental sex so our fully grown man child doesn’t hear us?”

  That description made her laugh. “Absolutely.”

  Okay, maybe he could get used to the other man being there, but honestly, he was hoping and praying that it only lasted a few days.

  Really, a week at the most.

  Maybe a month.

  Until after Christmas.

  Oh crap! It was getting worse and worse in his mind.

  He’d yet to christen that bedroom with Emma in his quest to have sex all over their house. Now, it just felt wrong.

  * * *

  Standing right outside the shadows of the theater, the darkness offered great cover for the one hiding. From this vantage point, it was easy to see all the women coming and going.

  There was one who was particularly of interest. Tonight was the last night of the blonde’s life.

  It had been a debate.

  There were two that drew attention, but one received the final vote. Her nightly routine was easy to follow. She’d leave the show almost last, have a smoke in the alley, and wait for the man du jour to wander by.

  Eventually, someone would meet her, she’d hop into his car or the back of a motorcycle and off she’d go.

  There was no doubt what she was doing, going off with a new man every night. One time, while being silently observed, she’d dropped to her knees right in the alley to give a complete stranger a blowjob, just to fill her own needs.

  Then as he’d strolled away, she’d brushed herself off and headed home.

  It would be her downfall, since her routine was noted as she drew the attention to herself.

  Tonight, she’d die and a clue would be left behind.

  If that wasn’t enough, there was one way to make sure all the world knew what had happened.

  Making the call would be easy.

  Watching it on the morning news would be entertaining.

  It didn't take much time. Before long, the door opened and the next victim made her appearance.

  ‘Thank God, work was done for the evening,’ she thought, pulling out her lighter. Once her cigarette was lit, she took a long cleansing drag. The need was growing in her, and she couldn’t wait to meet tonight’s man. She’d met him online and was eager to spend a couple hours getting laid before going home.

  Deep down, she knew it was wrong and dangerous. It made her cheap and whore like, but the dirtier the sex, the more she got off.

  Her body already ached for release. It had been building all night as the anticipation was growing. There might be the possibility of more than one man to get sweaty with before the evening was done and that alone made her all hot and bothered.

  As she began to pace, maybe it would be easier to meet him at the mouth of the alley. Sucking another drag deep into her lungs, she headed there. It wasn’t easy to maneuver in the darkness with the stiletto like heels, but he’d ordered her to wear them.

  It would be more exciting if she played the little game.

  Hell, she’d manage a few more hours in them if it meant getting off.

  Turning to crush out the cigarette, she leaned down and heard footsteps behind her. Turning quickly, the object struck her in the forehead, knocking her from her feet.

  Dropping to her knees, she stared up at the person above her, recognizing the face but not the reason for the sudden pain.

  There was complete confusion.

  “Why?” she asked as the hammer made one more swift descent, crushing her skull and ending her life.

  The question was silently left unanswered.

  It didn't matter if anyone understood. It was all about the guilty knowing their past was clawing back up to the surface.

  In due time…

  Now the evening could progress.

  It hadn’t worked out the way it was planned, but it still came to fruition. The woman was dead, and now it was a matter of taking the last few steps to set the stage.

  He liked drama, so here it was.

  Slicing off her ears, they made a sick plopping noise into the water, but this time there’d be a change of plans. This time, the eyes would be saved. Picking up the clue, it was placed where they’d surely find it, and the orb-less sockets were closed.

  With a stitch stitch here, and a knot knot there, the job was done. With each woman, it was getting easier and easier.

  That had to mean something.

  Didn’t it?

  Shaking it off, the body was wrapped up as the goal was now easily obtainable.

  Now, she would be placed in just the right spot. The call would be made and the drama would be set into play.

  Giving it that wow factor to make it pop.

  It would be the greatest show yet to come, and ironically, he had produced this one too.

  Now, it was time to put the heat on the cops, stirring up ‘Sin City’ like no one ever had before.

  Thursday three A.M.

  When the phone rang in the middle of the night, it only meant one thing when you were a cop.

  Someone was dead.

  When it rang, and it was your boss yelling into the phone like a lunatic, you knew it was going to only get worse. As Emma jumped out of bed, she raced to her closet, pulling down a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Getting to the scene was her top priority, and dealing with the major issue that had popped up. Being a fashion plate was the last thing on her mind.

  Croft dressed equally as fast, hustling down to his partner’s room and praying the man didn't sleep in the nude. He’d had the displeasure of seeing him naked once before in his life, and that was more than sufficient.

  By the time he made it out to the living room, Emma was ready and standing by the door.

  “The location just came through.”

  Briggs was bounding down the hall and pulling on a pair of running shoes with a baseball cap in his teeth. “What do we have?” he mumbled half asleep.

  They headed out, getting into the elevator. As they hit the lobby, the night guard looked up at all three of them as if they were crazy.

  Emma loaded her weapon and slipped it into her hip holster, ignoring his curious stare. “Captain Ford called. They found another woman. This time, there’s a media circus going on at the scene, and he’s ‘requested’ the pleasure of my attendance.”

  Croft was irritated already, knowing that the media was a bunch of vultures. If they were already there, then containment was out of the question. “How did they get there that fast? They don’t usually beat cops to the scene.” Already, suspicion was brewing.

  Emma shrugged. “You got me, babe. All I know is my boss is there personally, and that means the shit is about to hit the fan.”

  “We should probably call your partner,” Briggs offered, quietly. “Do you want me to do it?”

  “Okay,” she answered as her husband drove like a maniac to the scene. They’d opted to take the FBI vehicle for the lights and sirens as they flew down the busy Vegas streets. Only here could it be three in the morning and still as busy as high noon. It was entertaining that a screaming police vehicle was being completely ignored at this time of night.

  Pulling up to the location, Briggs hung up the phone. He’d given Detective Westmore the directions. Now, they would all have to put their personal lives and problems away as they took care of the dead woman.

  Emma hopped out and charged headlong into the pandemonium. She flashed her badge and ducked beneath the bright yellow warning tape to get to work. Before she could even get to the woman, her boss had her by the sleeve and was dragging her off to a corner of the crime scene.

  Right behind her was her husband, looking irate that the man’s hands were on his wife. Apparently, their previous talk had fall
en on deaf ears, or he simply had one hell of a death wish.

  “We have a giant mess here,” he snapped, angrily.

  “What happened?” Emma inquired. “Who called the media?”

  The tension rolled through him. “I wish I knew, but how’s this for a twist? The damn media called us to report the crime! The killer contacted them first, and we got a nine-one-one call about forty minutes ago from a reporter. They were here snapping pictures when I arrived!”

  “Oh hell! Everything’s going to be all over the news by seven in the morning,” Emma muttered in frustration herself.

  “You think?” he growled. “Get this contained! I’m going to try to find a way to get them to not show the world what’s happening in Vegas. Apparently, they aren’t familiar with our fine city’s motto,” he snarled angrily.

  Emma strode away and snapped on a pair of gloves as she moved closer to the woman. Already, Doctor Bentley was beside her as the techs began taking photographs.

  “Anyone care to play a rousing game of ‘what killed our victim’?” he asked, looking up as the two FBI agents and the detective approached.

  “It looks like someone clocked her on the front of the head this time. So, she saw her killer right before she bought it,” Briggs answered.

  “I don’t think the Doc really wanted us to answer, Curtis,” replied Emma. “I believe he was being sarcastic and is aware of how she died.”

  “Oh,” he replied. “Sorry. I’m used to the boss man expecting an answer within seconds.”

  Croft shook his head.

  The doctor stared at the Feds. “I don’t even have to open her up to guess what took her life. If you push on her skull, you can feel the crunch of the skull bones. It’s like a puzzle under there”

  “Emma, honey,” her husband paused, scanning the area to assure she’d be safe. “I’m going to go handle the media. Your boss is going to get eaten alive on this one. His people skills are lacking,” Croft stated, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead.

  She was mortified as the ME snickered along with a few of his assistants. “Grey!”