Heaven is Weeping (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 5) Page 4

Patting him on the back, they rolled toward the locker room. Croft had to get back into the office. He had to admit, talking to the man had helped him a little bit. He wasn’t doing himself, or Emma, any favors by keeping his issues to himself.

  Maybe this was kismet.

  Hopefully, whatever gray cloud was over both men, it would soon dissipate.

  Croft wanted his life and wife back.

  Desperately…

  * * *

  Wednesday Mid-Morning

  Middle of the Desert

  It took almost an hour to get out to the crime scene. After wrangling her partner, they both changed out of their suit jackets and into jeans and police t-shirts. There was no way in hell they would survive in the hundred degree temperatures wearing black suits. Within the hour, they’d be soaked and have heat exhaustion.

  Once there, they found the ME staff already on scene. Doctor Steele Bentley stood there, watching as his people worked on getting the bodies unburied.

  It was tedious.

  Miserable.

  Shitty.

  For once, Emma was grateful she was a cop. While it generally sucked, she didn't have to sit over stinky, decaying bodies in the heat.

  It was the little things that mattered most.

  As she approached, he turned, his eyes meeting hers. Whenever the ME looked at her, there was always this expression of pain.

  Yeah, she knew why.

  Love sucked.

  The man he was enamored with was being eaten away by suffering, just like the man she loved was too.

  It was a miserable situation all around for them.

  “Hey, Doc, I see you found us some bodies,” Emma said, hoping she could get through this day. It was getting harder and harder by the moment.

  “Yeah, it seems that the local phone company was digging to put in underground lines, and they came across this mass grave.”

  Emma glanced over at Brynn. With just a look, she signaled her partner to head over to begin asking the men some questions. She was well aware her partner sucked at dead bodies. That was funny, since it was her job.

  Talk about the wrong line of work!

  “What do we have?”

  The ME handed her a pair of latex gloves before moving toward the pit. “It’s shallow, and also likely that the killer was in a hurry. One big rainstorm and they would’ve moved to the surface. Then some desert animals would have had a snack.”

  “Tasty,” she muttered, making notes. Already there was a trickle of sweat moving down her back.

  “We have three females in that hole. Before you ask, I’ll ballpark it for you. Until we get the bugs to the lab, I can only guess.”

  If he was going to do that, it showed how off his game he was. Steele Bentley was more apt to shave his head bald than guess at anything work related.

  Then again, maybe she just looked as pathetic as she felt.

  “I give it between one and three weeks. They’re each in varying stages of decay.”

  Emma jotted that down. “What did them in?”

  “A killer.”

  She glanced up. “You’re funny, Doc. Do you want me to send that off to Ford? You’ll definitely not have your contract renewed next week, and he’ll be chewing your ass for lunch.”

  The man laughed. At the moment, that was his biggest fear. After slipping evidence to the Feds, there was already an investigation brewing. For now, he was safe, but that could change at any moment. In all actuality, he was waiting for Croft to rat him out. After all, he obviously hated his guts.

  He was sleeping with Dante and got ice daggers every time their paths crossed.

  It was only a matter of time.

  “Since their eyes are eaten away by the earth critters, I can’t tell if there is petechial hemorrhaging. You’ll just have to wait until I open them up.”

  “I noticed that their hair is missing,” she stated.

  “Yeah, it looks like he scalped them.”

  Emma made more notes. If the killer was doing that, he was likely keeping the pelts of hair as souvenirs.

  Great.

  They had a freak on their hands and no access to a profiler. God! She wished her husband wasn’t mad at her right then and there. This was a really bad time to be at odds with the FBI. Maybe she could contact Paris Archer on the down low and ask for his help. You know--off the record.

  She could only hope.

  “You have yourself a serial nutjob,” he stated.

  Emma was well aware. Once more, this would generally mean she could ask for FBI help. When Ford found all this out, she’d have to suck it up and make the call.

  Awesome.

  This day was getting worse and worse.

  “Can we pull them out?” Doctor Bentley asked, hoping she was done making notes. “I want to get them inside, and fast. We don’t have much time to slow down the decaying process. If you want accurate, you need to let me get to my job.”

  She was good with that.

  The last thing Emma wanted to see was three dead, hairless corpses that some serial killer put in the ground. Honestly, she was missing the cut and dry cases where someone was shanked in a dark alley over a fistful of drugs and money.

  Oh, the good old days.

  Heading toward her partner, she found her interviewing two harried looking men, and neither looked like they were doing well.

  “I already called in the paramedics,” Brynn Westmore stated when she saw her partner staring at the men. While she’d been working with Emma almost a year now, she’d learned to anticipate the woman’s next move.

  After all, she wanted to be as good as she was in the field. Her partner was the best detective she knew.

  “Good, because he looks like he’s going to pass out any second.”

  As if on cue, the one man’s eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

  Immediately, Emma called for some techs. It looked like they were going to be doing double duty and playing field medics. Then Emma noticed that Doctor Bentley wasn’t far behind his team.

  She started laughing.

  “What?” Brynn asked, looking at her like she’d lost her mind.

  Emma said nothing, but continued to be amused. If the man who passed out was freaked before, wait until he woke up with the ME kneeling at his side, checking his pulse.

  It should frighten him into a coma.

  “What’s your name?” she asked the conscious man. When he looked a little green himself, she snapped her fingers. “Hey! Over here! Focus for me.”

  “Trey Shelton, ma’am,” he replied, scared out of his mind.

  Emma could see why he looked a little worse for the wear. If the kid was a day over eighteen, she’d be shocked.

  “While they’re working on your friend, how about you tell us all about this?” Emma urged, trying to distract the man.

  “We arrived at work this morning, and Bill and I were given our orders. When we got out here, it was still early. We like to start work when it’s still cool outside. By this time of day, it’s too hot to be digging for long.”

  She understood that.

  It was hotter than hell.

  “How did you find the bodies?” Brynn asked, making notes on her phone.

  “Bill was laying out the line, and I started digging the hole. We were supposed to make a trench right through there. I got out my shovel and started working on it. We were going to switch off in an hour. I thought I was lucky, since I got the first shot at it. I hate digging in the heat.”

  Yeah, he was far from lucky.

  As the man on the ground started coming to, the boy continued, “Anyway, I hit something hard. I thought it was a large rock. When I reached into the dirt to pull it out of the way, it was an arm.”

  He looked like he was going to puke.

  “Breathe,” Doctor Bentley ordered, pushing the queasy man’s head toward the ground. “Detectives, try not to make him pass out too.”

  “Gee, and here we were h
aving so much fun in this sweltering heat,” Emma replied, shaking her head. It wasn’t like they had any control over the man’s gag reflex.

  “Can I lie down?” he muttered, his voice shaky.

  They heard the sirens in the background. There was no doubt that their interrogation was pretty much over. Besides, both women believed that it was just bad luck on the men’s behalf.

  “He’s having a shitty day,” Brynn said, moving out of the way so the paramedics could reach the men.

  “He’s not the only one. I don’t think the killer wanted us to find them,” Emma stated.

  Brynn continued making notes. This was the part she loved most. She was going to get to pick Emma’s brain for information on how to excel at her job.

  “Why?”

  “If you want a body found, you use a dumpster. Whoever did this either picked this place for a reason, or because it was out of the way. I doubt the killer knew that the phone company was going to be putting in a line.”

  “True. So, we have three dead women. What’s next?”

  Emma knew that her partner was studying her. It wasn’t that long ago that Brynn’s self-proclaimed mission to get captain’s bars was all she thought about. Now, she’d taken to using Emma as her teacher in the field.

  Well, she was tired of it or maybe it was her shitty mood as of late. Either way, change was coming. Emma needed a partner in the field, not a trainee, especially since her FBI backup had bailed. Until she was back on her feet, Brynn was going to have to carry some of the investigative weight.

  “What do you think is next?”

  Brynn stared at her, shocked that her partner seemed to be holding back. “Is this a quiz? I really hated them when I was in school, especially pop quizzes.”

  “Yep, this is definitely one,” she replied, watching the two phone guys being loaded up into the ambulance. The other three victims couldn’t use their services, so they were hightailing it the hell out of there.

  The blistering heat was cooking her from the inside out, making her patience wear thin.

  “We need to know who they are,” Brynn stated. “We really can’t begin the investigation until the autopsy reports are done, the victims are ID’d, and you’re in a better mood.” She threw that last one in there to get a rise out of her partner.

  She glanced over, saying nothing. What could she say? Brynn had been absolutely right on all three counts. “Then I guess we should head back in and start there. Once we figure out their identities, we can run it against the missing person reports and see if we have a match. Then, we can go from there.”

  “Are you going to test me this entire case?”

  Emma laughed, feeling bad that she was taking her mood out on her partner. “No, I’m just not feeling it today. I just need you to cover for me until I can focus. I don’t know if I can carry this one. I’m raw inside,” she admitted.

  Detective Westmore understood. It was the least she could do. After all, earlier, she’d asked Emma what she could do to help. This must be it.

  Patting her on the shoulder, they headed toward her vehicle. “I can do that, Emma. I know you’re having a rough week.”

  Yeah, that was funny. Make it more like a few rough months. Something was going to give. Emma only hoped it wasn’t her sanity, career, or marriage.

  “Hold up!” shouted Doctor Bentley before they could make it to the Navigator.

  “Well, shit!” muttered Emma Croft.

  Both women turned.

  “You need to see this. I think we have a problem,” he stated, pointing at the hole and the techs trying to bag up the victims.

  Emma really didn't want to know.

  Just from the tone in his voice, and the look on the techs’ faces, she knew it was going to be bad news. It was hard to believe that three dead, scalped women could get worse, but it was heading that way.

  Perfect.

  Hell hath no fury like the desert scorned…

  “What is it, Doc?” she asked, as they approached.

  Steele hopped down into the shallow grave and took a brush from one of the techs. With gentle fingers, he brushed away the dirt to reveal what he’d seen.

  “As soon as they moved victim three, I saw it.”

  Brynn still didn't know what the man was talking about. All she saw was some dust and sand. When he pointed, she tried to focus in on the area where he was trying to brush away the dirt.

  Emma on the other hand picked it up right away.

  Bloody freaking hell…

  “Is that another set of remains?” she asked, kneeling on the edge of the pit.

  “I think so,” he answered, going to work.

  While they watched, Emma noticed a few things. The body found under the three women wasn’t fleshy. In fact, it looked to be old and just bones.

  That meant it was in there a while.

  All the possibilities flooded her mind. Was this a bigger burial site? Had their killer been doing this for a longer time? There were so many new questions that needed answering.

  “We have bones,” he finally stated, pointing to the face. “My team isn't going to be heading in so soon. We’re going to have to make sure this isn't a mass grave.”

  There were groans from the techs.

  The last thing they wanted was to be stuck out in the heat, and no one could blame them.

  “Another woman?” Emma asked, as the techs began taking pictures of the skeleton in the dirt.

  “I’m not an anthropologist, but the pelvic bones look off. This was a man,” he stated, motioning toward what would have been his groin at one time.

  “So, our killer started with men?” Brynn asked.

  Emma stood and sighed. This wasn’t the first body she’d seen like this. While working in Philly, there was one or two just like it, and it meant one thing. “Look at his knees,” she stated, pointing. Already, she knew the day had gone from bad to worse in one shot.

  “What?” Brynn didn't get it.

  Steele did. “His kneecaps are missing, someone smashed in his face, and all his fingers are broken.”

  Brynn looked back and forth between them. “I still don’t get it. Is this another test?”

  Emma pulled out her phone in preparation to call her boss. Captain Ford needed to know about this, and fast. This was Vegas, and a body without kneecaps generally meant one thing.

  “No, this isn't another pop quiz, Brynn. What we have here are the makings of a mob killing,” Emma stated. “Our killer unluckily buried his victims on top of a mob burial ground.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? We’re going to be dealing with the mob?”

  They both nodded.

  “Oh boy,” she stated.

  Yeah, the day had definitely gone from bad to worse.

  Who would have thought…?

  ~ Chapter Two ~

  Wednesday Afternoon

  After returning to the office, Emma and Brynn both hit the showers. She was somewhat glad that Curtis was still at his office taking care of his probation stuff. It meant that she could keep the FBI off their backs for a little while. It was funny, since all she wanted to do was call her husband and tell him about the body in the desert.

  Her gut was screaming that this was a disaster in the making, yet she didn't know what to do. In all honesty, with Greyson being this miserable, she was afraid to call. For the first time in their marriage, Emma Croft was on the edge. It was like she was pushed there, and was now trying to balance precariously. While she had a temper, it wasn’t easily provoked.

  There was only one man on Earth who pulled it out of her easily.

  If she had to deal with his shittiness one more day, who knew what was going to happen? Until she was back in control, Emma needed some space from the head Fed--at least until she got her bearings.

  If not, someone might just get hurt, and it wouldn’t be her…

  As she sat there, Brynn silently watched her.

  “You can call it a day and head home. Curtis is
going to be getting set free soon, and you better get in your couple time now,” she offered. Starting tomorrow, the push to solve two cases was going to start. Who knew when they’d sleep, eat, or have any fun again?

  In reality, Emma wanted to be alone.

  “I can stay,” Brynn replied, hoping her partner would offer up the early leave once more. She was only volunteering out of the spirit of friendship. Brynn knew what was coming. She wasn’t likely going to see Curtis again until she was nearly in her grave. Mob cases were a bitch on the man-hours.

  “No point. I’m going to head down to look at the dead bodies next. Besides, you have Curtis’s little celebration soon, right?”

  Brynn Westmore thought about the festivities they were planning for his final day as a probee Fed. “Yeah, we do.”

  “Then give him a kiss for me, and head out.”

  It was all it took.

  Emma nearly laughed as her partner was out of there pretty damn fast. In a way, it reminded her of a cartoon exit as the woman scrambled to escape. The dust barely had time to settle. Emma wasn’t really surprised. There was no secret that Brynn Westmore and corpses didn't go together at all.

  Lately, it had been so much worse.

  She didn't need the woman puking in autopsy.

  Oh, and she didn't want anyone watching her interaction with her ME. This was still a slippery slope.

  Just as she unloaded her partner, another shadow fell across her desk. Emma sighed, knowing who it was.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “I just stopped by to see how your case is going. Whatcha got?” he asked. It was hard not to notice that Emma Croft was off her game. His detective looked beat down, which was odd. As of late, they were running light on the caseload.

  That meant this was personal.

  “The ME is scheduling the autopsies for tonight at some point. It’s going to take some time, since he has to cool the bodies down to stop decomp.”

  “Uh huh, okay, but I was referring more to the dead mob hit. I know the ME can handle three dead women. The question is, do we have a mob burial site and two different cases, or is this one mass grave?”