Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5) Read online

  Emma loved the sound of that. Instead of ending his torture, she added more. Greyson was strong. He could handle it.

  When she cupped him, the world nearly spun out of control. It was the most delicious feeling in the world.

  Then, it stopped.

  “I want you to finish us off,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust and need. “End it, Emma.”

  She was more than happy to give him just that. Sliding up his body, she took him in her hand.

  The look on his face said it all.

  He was desperate to feel what was coming. The explosion and release called to him.

  Greyson rested beneath her, watching Emma’s every move. It turned her on. While she stared into his amazing eyes, she slid him home.

  Their lust infused moans mingled, adding to the passion.

  “You’re wicked, my kitten,” he managed to get out.

  Emma couldn't speak. Her body was tingling as he filled her. Now, she’d really show him how she felt. With a steady pace, Emma began offering him her heart and soul.

  Greyson’s hands went to her hips, and they helped her set the pace. It was brutal. Emma was like a woman on fire, trying to throw them both off the edge.

  And it was working.

  “Oh God,” he hissed, fighting to wait for her. It wasn’t easy. Above him sat his woman, wearing nothing but the necklace he’d bought her. It bounced against her breasts, catching fire in their bedroom light.

  “More!” he demanded, pulling her down with more force. “Ride me harder!”

  She gave him what he wanted, and always would.

  When Emma threw back her head, he knew she was close. It was a good thing, because so was he. His body tightened, the claws of need ripping through him to find that much needed release.

  “Oh, Greyson!” she shouted, as the quivering of muscles told the tale. She was ready to fall, and it was going to be amazing.

  Without warning, he shifted and rolled, bringing Emma to her back. Then, he really began moving into his wife. It was like he couldn’t get enough.

  With each pounding thrust, he tried to shove her off the edge. As her nails ran down his arms, he could tell when it finally happened. When Emma tightened around his body, he was lost.

  Shouting her name, Greyson Croft followed his woman into the wonderful bliss. It wrapped around him, lulling him into the peace and happiness.

  Emma couldn’t feel anything as she was swamped with wave after wave of heat and warmth. She was in heaven.

  Slowly, they began pulling back to awareness, him protectively pressed along her body. When he left kisses across her throat, there was peace.

  Together, they could find that solace in each other.

  When he could string a completely sentence together, he finally spoke, “I love you.”

  She giggled, running her hands down his back as she nuzzled his shoulder. “I love you too, Grey, with all my heart.”

  With that, they closed their eyes and drifted into sleep, both at peace.

  For the moment…

  * * *

  Saturday Morning

  “Is it all set?”

  There was laughter. “Of course it is. Thanks to that little distraction last night, our guy got everything he needed. It’s only a matter of time before Randall Mason and Emma Croft are dead.”

  “Good. I hope so. That party was a spectacle. It’s hard to be nice to her. She’s the reason this city if falling apart. Why did they have to come here?”

  There was a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “It’s almost over. Before you know it, you’ll be reading their obituaries in the paper. Then you’ll be in control.”

  “And you’ll be very wealthy.”

  There was laughter. “Yeah, I can’t wait. I’m going to enjoy every single penny of that blood money. Long live the new royalty of Vegas.”

  “Nothing can stop us now. When she arrives for dinner, it’ll already be in play. Randall will be dead, little Emma Croft will be a sitting duck, and her husband will be a broken man.”

  Together they laughed.

  Finally, an end was in sight.

  * * *

  It took a second to figure out what the hell was going on. His head was spinning, his mouth felt like dust, and his eyes were blurry.

  Then, he remembered.

  He and Brynn had hit the town.

  From the way he was feeling, they painted it more than red. They burned the place down around them. The last thing that Curtis recalled was dancing in some bar with Brynn’s hands down his pants.

  Then it all became sketchy.

  All he could hope was he didn't do anything too embarrassing or his boss would kill him. While probation was over, Greyson would still make his life hell if he sullied the FBI name in some drunken fest.

  Glancing over, it hurt to even move his head, but somehow he managed to pull it off. Brynn was naked, her hand on his chest, and she slept deeply.

  Something didn't fit. He just couldn’t wrap his booze soaked brain around it. It was as if warning bells were going off, trying to get him to see the obvious.

  “Shit,” he muttered, glancing around the room. They’d wrecked the place. It was obvious what happened. There were clothes everywhere, shoes on a table, and Brynn’s panties were hanging off the flat screen.

  Yeah, booze was a very bad idea.

  Sitting up, he glanced at his watch. It was already nine in the morning, and they had three hours to clean up, check out, and get their asses to work.

  It was going to take a stop at home, since they couldn’t wear party clothes to the police station.

  “Brynn, baby,” he muttered. “We have to head to work soon. You have to get up.”

  It didn't even wake her.

  Curtis bit the bullet, knowing they needed coffee in the worst way. It was shocking that one of them wasn’t puking their brains out.

  Yeah, his boss was going to crucify him.

  There was no doubt in his mind.

  Pulling on his pants, he found something sticking out of his pocket. Curiosity got the best of him, making him pull the envelope out.

  Curtis had no idea where the hell this had come from. Opening it, he read the paper and then got sick.

  “WHAT?” he practically shouted.

  Brynn stirred on the bed.

  He had to reread it, just because he wanted to be sick. This had to be some twisted joke. Then he figured out what his brain had just been trying to get him to focus on.

  Brynn’s finger.

  Racing back to the bed, he took her hand in his, and indeed, she was wearing a wedding band.

  “Oh shit!” he muttered, noticing a matching one on his ring finger.

  That was it.

  He had to wake her.

  Maybe she would remember what the bloody hell they had done last night. Obviously, they’d tied the knot.

  “Brynn, wake up!” he practically shouted. When she rolled over, pushing the hair out of her eyes, she looked just as sick as he did.

  “I’m up! Oh God! My head hurts. I think we overdid it, Curtis.”

  Then, she noticed he was staring at her in horror. Okay, so she was likely a wreck, but it couldn’t be that bad. “What?”

  Curtis Briggs couldn’t speak. Instead, he simply handed her the paper he’d found in his pocket.

  It took her a second to focus.

  When she started laughing, he was confused.

  “Good one, Curtis. I get it. I got you shitfaced drunk, and you pull out all the stops to get even.”

  He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but this wasn’t a planned joke. He’d stoop low to pull a prank, but this topic was most definitely off limits.

  Marriage was sacred to him.

  “Brynn, this isn't a joke. I just woke up.”

  She stared at him, and from the look on his face, she was beginning to get sick.

  “WHAT?”

  “We got married last night. Look at your finger.”

  She stared at him in
horror, and then her gaze dropped to his hand, and finally hers. “Oh.My.God.”

  “I don’t know where they came from,” he offered, hoping that she didn't freak out.

  Brynn stared at him as little flashes of the night came back to her. What she thought was a part of her drunken slumber was actually a real event.

  “We bought them in the chapel. They sell them there.”

  He swallowed. “We got married.”

  It was hard to freak her out. Brynn, the last year, had learned to stay calm by watching Emma do her job.

  This, on the other hand, was something she never saw coming…

  Brynn was three days past freaked and moving into a full-blown panic attack. “You have to be kidding me.”

  He shook his head.

  “I’m not. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Brynn Briggs. It looks like you’re my wife.”

  “Oh God.”

  * * *

  Greyson sat in the kitchen, watching his wife make him breakfast. It was always a pleasant sight to see her walking around in his clothes.

  It made him feel all smug, especially after a night of debauchery. God, he loved waking up to his wife’s mouth all over his body.

  Then again, what man wouldn’t?

  As she placed a plate of muffins in front of him, he was in his glory. This time, he’d watched what she put in them, and there was nothing healthy to be found.

  “NO butter, Greyson!”

  He laughed, slathering some on it anyway. “I’ll run it off with Paris when this case is over. Don’t worry, Emma, my love. Your man can handle a little butter. After all, he handled his sweet kitten just fine last night.”

  “Jesus. Why is it that I have to always walk in when you’re hitting on your wife?” Dante asked, strolling into the room. Steele wasn’t far behind him.

  “Could that be because you’re in my damn house, and I’m allowed to say whatever I want?” Croft replied. To prove it, he continued to hit on Emma. “After breakfast, want to get back into bed?”

  She giggled.

  Dante made some gagging sound.

  Steele laughed.

  Emma wasn’t fazed in the least. This was their normal interplay. “Are you hungry, Steele?” she asked, handing the two men coffee as they sat beside her husband.

  “Carbs, please. I need to absorb some whiskey,” he said. “I think I lost some stomach lining.”

  Dante threw his arm over his shoulders. “Wait until you get your hands on Emma’s muffins. They’re amazing.”

  Croft started laughing.

  “What?” Dante asked.

  “It was weird when you’d say something like that before, but now knowing you’re gay… just makes it really entertaining.”

  He tossed a muffin at his brother.

  Emma had to jump in. “Knock it off or no muffins for either of you again! We have company. Let’s not make him think you two Croft boys were raised in a barn.”

  They snorted at the same time.

  “Thank you for letting me stay here and tracking me down when you didn’t have to, Director.”

  “Greyson,” he corrected. “If you’re having a relationship with my brother, then you’d call me by my name, especially when you hit on me in that bar.”

  He looked horrified.

  “It was hard to fight off that big kiss.”

  Dante’s mouth dropped open.

  Croft laughed. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with this.”

  Emma patted the ME on the shoulder as she walked past him. “You’ll get used to it, Steele, or you’ll run and hide. Either way, you’re always welcome here.”

  He appreciated that.

  “So what’s on your schedule today?” Dante asked, wondering if his boyfriend and family were working. It was Saturday, and maybe they could get a day off.

  “Well, I have to go in,” Steele said. “Oddly enough, I’m city’s only ME. If there are any bodies that came in, I’ll be doing autopsies all weekend to catch up. Damn budget cuts are killer.”

  Since this was Vegas, the likelihood was up there. A day without a dead vagrant would signal the start of the apocalypse.

  “We’re going to start breaking down that website to see if Paris and Tessa found anything last night while we were out,” Emma said.

  It reminded Croft.

  “We had a situation last night,” he stated, telling them all about Dominic Marianna assaulting Emma. Immediately, his brother was outraged.

  “I hope you kicked the shit out of him,” stated Dante. “We should head over there and show him what happens when you screw with a Croft!”

  Steele touched his arm. “You need to calm down and not get any ideas. Dominic Marianna is a dangerous man. My father did business with him, and to this day, I still think he had something to do with his death.”

  They all looked at him.

  “My dad was into questionable things,” he stated, letting it go at that.

  “Well, I punched him in the face a few times, and then followed it up with a gut shot, or two.”

  Emma continued, “Yeah, and then he tossed him in a pool.”

  Steele looked worried.

  “If he wants to come after me, let him. My wife is off limits. I’ll kill him and go to jail if need be.”

  They all knew he wouldn’t say something like that lightly. Greyson was sterling when it came to his career and life.

  “Well, I’m fine,” she said, hoping her husband didn't do anything stupid.

  Before anyone could say anything else, Croft’s and Emma’s phones began ringing.

  They knew what that meant.

  “We have another body,” she said, just as Steele’s began beeping too.

  “You can borrow my clothes,” Dante said, as they raced out of the room.

  Greyson glanced over at his wife, since she was right beside him. “You’re not to leave my side. Are we clear?” he demanded.

  Emma was good with that, especially since he was in just as much danger as she was.

  “Yes, Grey. We’re clear.”

  * * *

  As they arrived at the church, they were a little confused. Before getting the location, they expected the team to be heading to the desert for the body.

  But no.

  The killer was definitely mixing it up.

  As they were heading out of the condominium, Croft had called his team, getting them ready to take care of business. They were all on duty, including his partying agent.

  Sometimes work superseded life.

  It was out of his hands.

  Hopping out of the Navigator, Emma and Greyson met Paris and Tessa at the front of the church. They were already gloved up, and that meant they arrived and checked out the scene.

  “What do we have?” Emma asked, as the ME began getting ready.

  “We have a woman who matches the MO,” stated Tessa. “She’s missing her hair and the lower half of her clothes. She was obviously having sex at some point, or our killer has a panty fetish too.”

  The humor meant that the scene was going to be bad. In their line of work, they joked to alleviate some tension.

  “Where is she?” Croft asked, as they all headed in.

  Paris replied, “In the confession booth. I’m going to have a field day with this one,” he admitted.

  They all stared into the open door at the dead woman propped up on the bench. She was holding a bible and staring blankly ahead.

  “Where to begin with this mess?” Croft asked.

  Steele approached. “How did they find her? Was she moved?” he asked. In order to do his job, he needed the entire picture beforehand.

  Tessa pulled out her notepad. “The priest entered the confessional to listen to morning worshippers. When the first woman opened the door, she screamed bloody murder. No one moved her. As you see her, is the way we found her.”

  Steele touched her arm. It was stiff and cold. “She’s been dead a while.”

  “How long?” Emma asked.

  Steel
e sighed.

  “Baseline it for me, Doc. Is it more like a day or an hour?”

  That he could do. “She’s in full rigor, so not this morning. From the cold chill of her arm, I’d say at least twenty four hours.”

  Emma motioned for her team. “Okay, we’ll let doc do his thing, and we’ll do ours.”

  They were good with that.

  “Paris, can you start analyzing this? We have a dead woman in a church. Is this a message, or just like the other women, a sex thing?”

  He wasn’t sure. “I can wheel on over to the corner and begin working. If she has ID, I can find out if she was part of the website.”

  Emma shouted over to her ME. “Doc, is there a purse?”

  Immediately, it was held out for her. “Have at it. Just don’t leave the area with it. My team has to check for trace.”

  With careful fingers, Emma dug out the woman’s wallet. Pulling the ID from it, she read off the name to Paris, “Lidia Martinez.”

  He began his search on Tessa’s tablet. When he glanced up, they knew they had another hit.

  “So, he’s using the dating site. This is four for four,” Croft stated.

  Tessa signaled. “While Paris is researching, I’m going to start talking to witnesses. Some of them are getting restless,” she stated, pointing across the church to where they were sitting.

  Emma dismissed her and glanced up at her husband. “This makes me edgy,” she stated.

  “Yeah, a dead woman in a church is going to be a hot mess for us.”

  Emma knew they weren’t going to be able to keep this under wraps, not for long. “Tessa,” she called, getting the woman’s attention. “Confiscate phones. We don’t need anyone sending this to a website for fun.”

  The woman nodded.

  Steele called her over. “I can give you some more.”

  It was rare for the doctor to give them information without a full autopsy.

  “Shoot,” she said.

  “Lidia Martinez was strangled.” As if on cue, he pointed to her eyes. “She’s got petechial hemorrhaging.”