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Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5) Page 19
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“That doesn’t play out,” stated Curtis. “It had to be a front.”
Emma happened to agree, and told them why, “Really, I get it. If my marriage was a mess, I wouldn’t bring it to work either. I’d want everyone to think I was happy. Polly Anderson and her husband, by his account were cheaters. She wasn’t living an angel’s life. Then you have Zara, whose husband was letting her carry on an internet affair behind his back. They were fronts, like people in big houses who are maxed out in debt and are living a lie.”
When Ford glanced over at them, lifting a brow, Greyson clarified, “She didn't mean present company.”
Captain Ford laughed.
Emma continued, “Neither woman had any enemies, and Candy only had female co-workers. Zara Harris spent her days with kids, but what was curious was that her co-worker stated that she wanted them, the hubby didn't. We may need a follow up interview with Jordan Harris.”
“I agree,” stated Ford, then he remembered he wasn’t running this briefing. “Sorry. I’m used to being the boss.”
Yeah, it took everything Greyson had, too, to keep it zipped as Emma ran it.
“Can we switch?” Brynn asked out of the blue.
Immediately, they all swapped containers.
Ford watched intently as the takeout moved to different owners. “You’ve obviously done this before.”
Curtis replied, “We work together, a lot.”
Greyson focused them on the task at hand. “Let’s talk website,” he stated. “I have to admit--now I’m curious as hell.”
Immediately, Paris tapped some keys, sending it to the big screen in the room. “As you can see, from the outside, this site looks like an average dating site, BUT Tessa and I believe that it’s going to be important to our case. I’ll go with why and then explain from the point of a profiler.”
Emma nodded. “Have at it, Paris.”
“When you think dating site, what do you think?”
“Easy hook ups, meeting people, and finding a soul mate,” stated Brynn, eating her lunch. “Why? What should we think?”
“This is a hybrid site. It’s definitely for dating, but there are two components that make up the core of the company. One, it’s for cheaters looking for a quick hookup, and of that group of people, it caters in fantasies. Some are normal, others are outrageous.”
They all stared at him.
“I’m not kidding.” Handing Curtis the tablet, he let the man do his tech thing. “You move faster on this. Will you help me?”
He dropped his container and took over. “Fire when ready.”
“Just doing internet searches on this company, Tessa and I found that they cater to a clientele who are already married. It’s more for people who are unhappy with their marriage or just want a little swinging on the side.”
Croft snorted. “Yeah, doesn’t that defeat the purpose of marriage? It’s supposed to be you and one other person. Not you and half of Vegas.”
“I agree,” Paris said, unable to picture himself without Tessa. She did it for him. “All three of our women were partaking in the services this company had to offer.”
“Okay, let’s dig into their profiles,” Curtis stated, cracking his knuckles.
Croft knew they couldn’t. “We need search warrants. If we even go past here, we’re screwed. We can access their equipment, but the husbands, who weren’t aware this was happening, can’t give us access rights.”
“That’s going to take a day,” Emma said. “What can we do that’s not breaking the law? My ass is on the line with this one, and I can’t lose my job.”
Chris Ford knew she wasn’t the only one who was going to be feeling the heat.
“How about we create a profile?” Paris suggested. “We can nose around, and no one would be any the wiser.”
Curtis stopped them. “The only issue with that is that these are big companies. They’ll have software that will detect the FBI’s IP address. We’ll bury ourselves from the beginning.”
This was a conundrum.
Tessa had an idea. “What if we used a personal tablet and didn't ride the police or FBI Wi-Fi? I have mine in my purse. I mostly use it for reading, but there’s searching capability.”
Ford was impressed with their ability to improvise. “And Wi-Fi?” he asked.
Brynn pulled out her phone. “We can use my cell as a hotspot, log into it, and navigate with that. If we use the phone then the IP comes back to my name, not the police.”
Croft grinned. “I love my team.”
Emma laughed. “YOURS? She’s mine. I’ve been training her for almost a year now.”
“No fighting over me. You both can adopt me. I want to live in your condo,” she teased.
“Perfect.” Curtis already began using Tessa’s tablet to start the search. “Once we get a search warrant, we can access their accounts, getting passwords right from the company. We can also get their dating records, to see if they hooked up with anyone.”
“You seem to know a lot about this,” Brynn stated.
Curtis blushed. “Well, I signed up for a dating site after you and I broke up. I dabbled.”
Croft jumped in, covering for his agent and friend. “This is really good work. I’m impressed.”
“Me too,” Ford said.
Curtis was just about there. His fingers moved quickly across the device, filling in all the information. “We need a photo,” he said. It won’t let us go on without it.”
They looked around.
“You can’t use mine,” Emma said. Everyone this side of Vegas will recognize me.”
“Yeah, and the media will have a field day,” Ford teased. “It looks like it’s down to you two ladies.”
“It’s my phone, so it should match. I don’t mind. I don’t get any media exposure. Mostly, when Emma’s around, they’re focused on her, thankfully.”
Curtis used the tablet’s camera and snapped a picture. “Good one,” he stated, uploading it. With the rest, he filled in bogus information. There was no way he was going to use her real address or stats. Other than hair, eyes, and picture, this wasn’t Brynn Westmore. It was Trixie Needmore.
“Seriously?” she asked, pointing at the name. “You couldn’t come up with anything better than that? I sound like some wanton stripper who’s got a date with an STD.”
He laughed, as did they all.
Continuing on, Curtis had access. “There’s a free one week trial. That should give us time.”
“Search our victim’s names,” Emma stated.
Curtis ran them, and got nothing. “They weren’t using their full names.”
Ford had a suggestion. “Go with their first names only.”
He did.
Polly and Zara popped, but Candice didn't.
Emma spoke up, as she hopped out of Greyson’s lap. “Try Candy.”
There were forty that popped up.
“Narrow it down by brunettes with blue eyes,” Tessa suggested.
When he did, again, it narrowed it to two.
“There she is,” stated Paris. “Open her profile.”
They began reading over his shoulder. In the data, she clearly stated that she wasn’t married, but dating. Candy also had some pretty fanciful fantasies--some that were way out there.
“WOW!” stated Curtis. “She was into some freaky stuff.”
What was astounding was that some of the things that they found there made Croft want to blush. While he and Emma had an exuberant sex life, and they liked to play around, none of it involved what this woman wanted to do.
“What about the other two?” Emma asked.
When Curtis pulled them up, Polly turned out to be tame in comparison. Her profile stated that she was married, but wanted some kinky role playing, beginning with a sexy nurse and handsome doctor game.
“Okay, she wasn’t too freaky,” Paris stated, as he began measuring all the information in his mind. It was time to start adding onto the profile they already had.
“
What about Zara Harris?”
When her profile popped up, there was a banner beneath her name.
“Well, she was voted most kinky by her dates,” Curtis said. “Her husband said she liked it wild, but I’m almost afraid to look. Who am I kidding? I’m curious as hell!”
When he opened it up, they didn't know what to say.
“Yikes,” stated Brynn. “No wonder a killer hunted her down. She’s a fetish playground. He had to see her coming a mile away.”
Paris pushed his wheelchair away from the table. “The victims ranged from a woman who liked to call her lover ‘daddy’ to someone who fantasized about gang rape. You’ll notice that as the victims progress, so does the killer. He started with Polly, and she was vanilla to him. Now, he’s picking women who are way over the edge into full blown sex addiction.”
They all just stared.
Croft glanced down at his watch. He and Emma had their party to attend, and tonight was Curtis’s night out with Brynn. “We have some time yet, so we’ll dig around in these profiles a little more, and then we’ll call it a night. Do I have any volunteers to work on this at home, off FBI and LVPD equipment?” he asked.
Curtis looked worried. “Uh, we have plans tonight.”
While he was well aware of how important Curtis’s night was, he wasn’t above busting the man for the last work shift of his probation.
“Oh, didn't I tell you? Because you’ve broken so many rules the last two years, I’ve extended your probation for two more.”
He stared at him in horror.
Croft was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
“Okay, I’m kidding, but technically you’re mine until six tonight.”
“Boss, can I come in late tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.
Emma elbowed her husband before he could answer. “He’s not running this. We work until six, and then we head out for the night. Curtis, you and Brynn have until noon tomorrow, but if there’s a body, you’re on duty, so don’t do anything stupid. Paris and Tessa, you can work at home, or not. I’ll leave it up to you.”
“We were going to volunteer to play with Brynn’s profile. Maybe we can get her a few dates?” Tessa teased, winking at her.
“Works for me,” Brynn stated, adding to the probee torture.
“HEY! I’m right here,” Curtis stated.
“Ahhhh, I’m going to miss you being a probationary agent. I’ve had two years of fun.”
“Yeah, I won’t miss it. Tomorrow, I’m home free.”
Emma found that funny. The boy was obviously out of his mind. No one escaped the clutches of Director Greyson Croft.
Paris shook his head. “I feel bad for you, Curtis. You have no idea.”
Croft stood, tossing his empty container in the garbage. “Yeah, tomorrow will be a much better day. It’s a good thing you’re not going to be working under me anymore as my agent. Lucky for you, probation ending means you’re free of my tyranny.”
Curtis dropped his head to the table.
“It’s never going to end, is it?”
Emma laughed. “Never.”
~Chapter Eight ~
Friday Night
Randall Mason examined the crew’s attention to every detail. They had made this year’s party even more spectacular than the previous ones. When you had the prestige that this Vegas show had, every nuance had to be spot on.
This one would be no different.
The ballroom had been magically transformed to a lush green forest. If you were going to celebrate the summer, you needed to have some place for your fae and pixies to hang out.
Many people believed that he was crazy for throwing parties like this. They believed that dressing up was undignified for the rich and powerful.
Well, they were wrong.
Everyone liked to forget their busy, hectic lives once in a while, and this was how he could offer them that trip into the fantastical. Not everyone dressed up for the party. Some wore normal clothes, but then he wouldn’t invite them the next year. This Vegas show was important to him.
It was the one he was working on when he lost his dear wife. It was the deal which took precedence over the life of the woman he loved and their unborn child. This was a tribute to her. There was no doubt she watched him from above in joy.
He was sure of it.
“Oh, my dear, we shall have a good time this year,” he said to no one in particular.
As he wandered around the ballroom, someone flipped a switch and the ceiling lit up with thousands of twinkling stars.
He clapped in exuberance at what was to come.
Tonight would be the best performance of his life.
Randall only hoped the invitees would appreciate all the thought and work that had gone into it. There was a change coming, and soon he would be stepping down.
He knew it was inevitable.
The chatter was happening.
There was no doubt in his mind that the person who wished to dethrone him would strike. Once outside the confines of his home, he would likely meet his maker.
Until then, there was tonight.
For that moment in time, he would revel in the magnificence of what he’d created. The reaper could wait until the last sand had dropped in the hourglass.
“Sir, are you wearing your customary costume?” asked his personal assistant.
“No, I’m stepping back and taking a lesser role. I’ve crowned Emma Croft the new queen of this night.”
“Yes, sir.”
Normally, he, and the woman of the moment, would rule at the yearly function, but now…he was letting the control go.
“I’m passing my legacy on. Shortly, everyone will know who reigns in Vegas.”
The young man just nodded, hurrying away. He wasn’t going to argue with the ramblings of an old man. If the pay wasn’t so good, he wouldn’t stick around.
Randall scanned his masterpiece one last time before he headed to his room.
It was time to get ready.
It was coronation time.
* * *
Greyson Croft was both excited and nervously dreading the evening. He’d yet to tell Emma about the reporter and the blackmail. It wasn’t like that was the part that worried him. What made him nervous was how much she had to put up with daily.
There was still a part of him that worried one day she’d snap and walk away. Now, she was going to have to hear that her husband was caught by the media in a gay bar.
Deep down, he knew Emma would understand. That wasn’t his concern. What scared him was the firestorm which had the potential to drive her from his life. No wife wanted to have to play dutiful spouse as the media flayed her partner. She’d get looks and questioning glances from everyone as they all judged her.
He hated it.
That was why he went with the blackmail. It wasn’t his reputation that he was worried about. It was hers. His sweet, loving Emma deserved better, especially since she’d put up with so much nonsense already.
“Why are you tense?” she asked, glancing over. “Do you need a massage?”
Yeah, he needed something all right.
“I have to tell you something.”
Emma got that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Okay, then just tell me.”
Croft dove right in. He explained the situation, and then stopped right before the blackmail.
Emma didn't understand why he was nervous.
“I was caught on camera leaving the place.”
Ohhhh, now she got it. “I know you’re not gay, Greyson, or having some secret liaison behind my back. We’re good. I can’t believe you think I’d ever fall for the media spin on this.”
Yeah, that wasn’t what freaked him out. “I’m scared, Emma. One day, you’re going to be sick and tired of all this, and you’re going to walk away. When you found out someone was after me, you stood by me, sullying your own character. I know it’s only a matter of time before I lose you to all this madness.”
She reassuri
ngly took his hand. “Do you really believe I would do that, Greyson Croft? I married you for the long haul, not just for when the times are good. We’re not leaving each other. Not over this and certainly not over anything else that gets tossed at us.”
“I just worry this will break us. There’s so much shit going on,” he stated.
“I’m fine. I actually find it sexy.”
He glanced over at her as he pulled into their garage. After the security check in was done, he had to ask. “You think me being labeled as gay is sexy?”
She snorted. “Heck no! I think that it’s sexy that you went into that bar and saved your brother’s heart. A lesser man wouldn’t have done it. You knew that the media follows us all over the place, and that was one hell of a risk.”
He relaxed.
“Tell me about it. All that leather and chest hair was a scary thing.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“You don’t want to know.”
Once parked in their spot, Emma pulled her husband’s mouth toward hers. Silkily, her lips moved over his, luring him into the heat. The kiss was filled with want, need, and lust.
Greyson allowed his wife to control the lip lock, even though he knew there were cameras all over the place. There was no way in hell he’d ever turn down a kiss from the woman beside him. He’d learned that these moments were too precious to waste.
When her hands began wandering, and she stroked his lower anatomy through his pants, Greyson wanted to hit the seat release. He could picture them dropping back as he allowed his wife to have her way with him.
Right there.
Right then.
Maybe, if they were lucky, no one would be monitoring them at the security desk. When he could feel his shirt being tugged out from his pants, his brain went haywire.
‘Just one more second’, he thought.
He wanted this moment to last forever. Greyson longed to tuck away the memory for a day when he was feeling cold and empty. It would be his reserve for when he was beyond drained.
As her hand snaked up his torso, there was a moan low in his chest. It called to her on some primitive level of caveman to his babe.