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

  If anything, he’d demand they hover over her and go above and beyond keeping her safe. Now, she could laugh in anticipation, but later Emma was sure it would be annoying as hell.

  Pulling into the parking lot, she scanned all the cars and nothing seemed out of place. The Feds weren’t here yet. The only reason she knew it was that they rolled in with big Denalis. Her husband drove one around all the time.

  Moving towards the door, Emma glanced down at her watch. How was she almost late? It was the same thing all the time, except now, she couldn’t blame Greyson for detaining her. Even though she was up before the sun, somehow there was always a distraction that caused her delay. Racing towards her desk, she dropped her keys and purse and let out a sigh of relief.

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” quipped her partner, grinning. “Too much wine last night?”

  Emma laughed. They’d had two glasses apiece. It was hardly a booze bender. “I see you managed to get home safe,” she whispered, dropping her voice. That’s all she needed the men around them to hear. One, because they had perverted minds and two, she didn't want them knowing about where she lived.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Are you two ready for the feeble Feds?” mocked Detective Sawyer Laden. “They should be arriving soon to screw it all up in a matter of minutes.”

  Emma didn't reply. She wasn’t playing the game and trashing a team that worked for her husband.

  His partner, Detective Mace Bristol laughed. “You’re just pissed they wouldn’t let you be in the FBI,” he busted back. “If the Feds want to come here and take the heat, let them.”

  There was something reassuring about the man. Emma liked him a great deal. He was the complete and total opposite of his partner. Mace Bristol was the only Native American on their staff. He was laid back and often the calmer head that prevailed between the two of them. Plus, his wife made them all cookies, and he was always willing to share.

  You had to love that.

  “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,” offered Brynn. She didn't want her partner to feel bad about having to choose sides. If she was in Emma’s position, it would be a hard choice.

  Before anyone could continue, Captain Ford exited his office. The snarl on his face was extra miserable today. “I just got a call from the desk sergeant. The Feds are on their way up right now. We all play nice, but you ladies don’t take any of their shit. You hear me? You’re running this and get to make all the decisions. No kissing FBI ass.”

  “Yes, sir,” Emma replied, knowing she wasn’t going to have the slightest issue. Along with her husband sending the best, he’d probably already issued the warning about them being extra nice to his wife.

  That was a conversation she wished she’d been privy to as a fly on the wall.

  “Not a problem, Captain,” answered Detective Westmore.

  Sawyer Laden grinned wickedly. “No worries, Cap. I’ll keep our ladies nice and safe.”

  “Oh look. Feds at twelve o’clock,” stated Detective Bristol, nodding his head towards the doorway.

  Everyone glanced over at the entrance to the squad room.

  “Oh my God!” Emma exclaimed as she stood. Her focus was fixed across the room at the men standing there. “Grey?” she said, moving away from her desk and straight towards her husband.

  The slow pace became quicker as she began racing around desks to get to his side.

  He saw his wife, and his heart thudded in his chest. The staccato was fast and erratic as her look of astonishment made him grin. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and the emerald green eyes sparkled with amusement and pure happiness.

  Yeah, he’d surprised her.

  Into his body Emma went, as she ignored the looks and stares of all the detectives at their desks, waiting for the shift to begin. She jumped against him and threw her full body into his as she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold them together.

  “Greyson,” she whispered, before kissing him. It was sweet and welcoming as she poured every ounce of emotion from her heart into his.

  All the cold in both of them warmed instantly as he held her to his body. This was the best thing he’d experienced in over a week. He took a second to deepen the kiss and only then pulled away when there were catcalls and whistles.

  “Emma, honey,” he whispered, burying his face in her neck. “I've missed you so damn much.”

  Had she not been at work, she would have wept then and there. Her heart was back in one piece again.

  The four cops stood with their mouths hanging open.

  Sawyer made the first comment. “You should have said no kissing them on the lips, not the ass,” he muttered, confused as hell.

  Brynn stared at her partner’s husband and didn't know what to say. He had to be the sexiest man she’d ever seen. His black hair and the roguish scar on his cheek reminded her of some dangerous pirate. When he looked up from their embrace, his eyes caught her off balance. They were a silver color that was so completely unique. Holy shit! Her partner’s man was hot! When she said he was handsome, she wasn’t kidding.

  “Is anyone else confused?” asked Detective Laden, befuddled by what he was witnessing.

  “That’s the mystery husband,” Brynn said, spilling the beans. It wasn’t like her partner didn't let the sexy cat out of the bag in the center of the squad room.

  “What?” raged Ford. “She’s married to an FBI agent?” He didn't know if he should be outraged or plain pissed off that his detective was hiding this big of a secret. He wondered if the commissioner was aware.

  “No shit,” stated Detective Bristol. “She wasn’t kidding when she said he was out of town. That was one hell of a welcome home kiss. My wife hasn’t kissed me like that in… ever.”

  Brynn could feel her own skin flushing. She and her partner were going to be revisiting the previous question about him having a brother. A twin would work for her.

  Hell, she’d take an uncle or his father at that point.

  Emma ran her fingers down his cheek. “Grey, what are you doing here?”

  He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I got a call you needed help. My boss sent me home, and here I am, honey,” he replied as his whole body reacted to hers. If they were alone, right then and there, she’d be completely naked.

  Someone cleared their throat. “Hey, Curtis, how are you?” mocked the other agent. “Oh, I’m great, Emma. Thanks for asking,” he added as he talked to himself.

  She turned around to embrace him. “Curtis, I missed you too.”

  “Do I get a kiss?” he asked hopefully.

  Croft gave him the look and the man shut up. “Good choice,” he stated, grinning.

  Their reunion was interrupted.

  “Detective Croft! Get your ass in my office, NOW!” bellowed Ford. This wasn’t happening. There was no way in hell she was working with her husband, and that wasn’t even the worst part of the entire scenario. Now, he was seriously questioning her allegiance to the LVPD. His damn detective was married to the FBI.

  Over his dead body.

  Emma sighed. “Great,” she muttered, and then looked up at her husband. “That kiss was still so worth it, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  Croft wasn’t letting his wife deal with this alone. “Briggs, go take a seat in Emma’s chair. I’m going to show Captain Asshole what happens when he talks to my wife like that in front of a room full of people.”

  “Want me to call for backup?” Briggs teased.

  “Only if you hear gunshots, but you may need to call for an ambulance to take the man to the ER first.”

  Emma wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. “Grey, stay calm. That’s my boss.”

  “I am calm,” he said, walking towards the man’s office. When he arrived at the door, the captain shook his head. “Not you, her.”

  “I’d love to see you stop me. You just called out my wife in front of an entire room of people. Yo
u may think that’s appropriate, but it’s crossing the line.”

  “I don’t care what you say or think, Agent.”

  Croft was ready to go to war. “Really? Then, let’s get the opinion of someone who matters.” The room around them was absolutely silent. You could hear a pin drop. Greyson pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts to locate just the right one. On the third ring he put it on speakerphone.

  “Greyson! Did you arrive safe?” questioned Commissioner Booker.

  Everyone in the room could now hear the conversation.

  “Tom, not exactly. I arrived to find your captain referencing my wife’s ass in the middle of the squad room. He’s being belligerent and hostile because I’m with the FBI. Apparently, he wasn’t aware Emma was married to one of the most hated people in the world.”

  “What?” the man on the phone exclaimed.

  “It seems that your captain feels that it’s acceptable to humiliate and ridicule people in public. I wanted to warn you that even though we go way back, when a press conference pops up, my comments will not be complimentary to this department. Since you and I are friends, I wanted to give you a heads up.”

  Ford was bright read.

  Emma was holding her breath.

  No one in the bullpen moved.

  “Greyson, I’ll call him immediately. There’s no conflict of interest with your wife being a detective. She was hired on her merit and nothing more. I’ll handle this.”

  “I’m sorry I had to bring this to your attention, but if you don’t want my help, I’ll head back to my office. I have a million other issues on the back burner that were put off to pull this favor for you.”

  Thomas Booker didn't sound happy. “I apologize for my captain right here and now.”

  “Call me later, Tom, and tell your wife I miss her veal scaloppini. We’ll have to get together for dinner again soon.” Croft stared up at the man in front of him.

  “Absolutely, Greyson. Talk to you later.”

  As he hung up the phone, he raised his hand and cut the man off. Loud enough for the entire room to hear, he reintroduced himself. “Hello, Captain Ford. My name is Director Greyson Croft. I’m not a special agent. I run the whole damn field office. If I ever hear you make mention to my wife and her posterior in any conversation, I’ll be the one handing you your ass.”

  The phone in the man’s office began to ring.

  “I believe that’s for you. I’ll be having coffee with my wife until you’re off your call. We can revisit this entire debacle after your attitude adjustment.”

  The man slammed the door in anger.

  Emma stared up at her husband unsure if she should be mortified or completely turned on. Her focus was drawn to her partner who was fanning herself with a case file.

  Laughter finally won out. Her big scary caveman was just doing what he did best.

  Croft took her hand in his. “Coffee, honey?” he asked, leading her away. He nodded at his partner and the man followed.

  Everyone watched them leave.

  Once they had gone, Brynn sat in her chair and fought back the overwhelming need to laugh at everything that went down. “Just wow.”

  Detective Bristol shook his head. “I have no comment.”

  “I do,” muttered Detective Laden. “That’s why I hate Feds.”

  “I don’t. That was hot.”

  Both men looked over at her.

  “Well it was!” Detective Westmore finally broke down and laughed. At least it was, until the shit hit the fan.

  Out in the break room, Emma poured her husband and his partner a cup of coffee. Her silence spoke volumes.

  “So, how mad are you?” Croft asked, taking the cup from her hand. “Am I sleeping on the couch or looking for a divorce attorney?”

  Briggs wisely said nothing as he sat there drinking his coffee. Marital disputes were a foreign thing for him. He wasn’t getting in between either of them.

  “I’m not divorcing you but for future reference, let’s not pull that ever again. I love you and appreciate that you wanted to rescue me, but I’m far from a damsel in distress.”

  Croft thought about it. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. “Does this mean I still get welcome home sex tonight?”

  Briggs began choking and without a second thought, Emma slapped him on the back.

  “That depends on your behavior today,” she said, winking at him.

  “Umm, I’d like to point out that I’m staying at your place until I get an apartment. So, maybe you should abstain,” Briggs said, snickering.

  Both of them stared over at him.

  “Or take it as a joke and stop looking at me like I’m the common enemy,” he threw out there.

  Before either could comment, Detective Westmore walked into the room.

  Emma made the introductions. When her partner was practically drooling, she had to elbow her to get her to focus.

  “Do you have a brother?”

  Croft lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, as a matter of fact I do, why?”

  “Hallelujah.”

  His wife began laughing. “Is the captain ready for us?” Emma inquired, winking at her husband. She was a lucky girl to have the one and only Greyson Croft as hers and hers alone.

  “Yeah, and he looked like he was ready to chew nails.”

  “Awesome.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, honey. I’ll have a private talk with the man later. I’ll be meeting him at his house to kick the shit out of him for what he pulled.”

  Emma stared, unsure if he was kidding or dead serious. “Babe,” she warned.

  “You want me to do it in public again?” he inquired.

  Emma pointed at him.

  He started laughing. “Come on. Let’s get this adventure started. I want to take my wife home tonight and…”

  Again, he got the look.

  “Bake cookies. I want to make lots and lots of delicious cookies all night long.”

  She started laughing at him.

  “What?” he asked as he wiggled his eyebrows lecherously.

  God, she’d missed him so much. Even if it cost her the job, she was so happy he was home. “I love you, Grey.”

  “What a coincidence,” he grinned wickedly. “I love you too, Detective Sweet Stuff.”

  Back in the bullpen, everyone who wasn’t out on a case at that moment, glanced up at the Feds and detectives as they reentered the room. The four walked towards the captain’s office, pausing only to knock on the door.

  “Come in,” came the terse acknowledgement.

  Bracing for the nuclear explosion, which she was sure was eminent, Emma pushed open the door.

  “Are we ready to begin?” asked Captain Ford as he leaned back in his chair.

  There was no missing the hostility that the men were now aiming at each other. It was a testosterone fueled pissing match.

  “I think so,” Emma stated, feeling Greyson’s hand on her lower back. He was still being protective, and she honestly believed it was second nature.

  “Detective, what are your plans for today?” he asked, staring directly at Emma.

  “We’re heading to the morgue to get the results of the second victim’s autopsy. After that, I’ll have Special Agent Briggs run some of the information for me.”

  “Sounds like a good start.”

  “I want to find out what in their lives connected them. I think I have an idea, but I want to visit the second woman’s apartment and look around.” Emma waited for his reply.

  “What will the FBI be doing at this point in time?” He refused to direct his conversation at the man in his office. As far as he was concerned, he disliked the Feds and this was why.

  Greyson fielded his question. “I’m here to assist the lead detective in anyway it’s needed. Whatever Detective Croft wants, she’ll get from us.”

  Ford was planning on watching them both under the microscope. The first screw up and she was gone. When his boss called him, he reminded the commissioner tha
t the detective was only hired thirty days prior, and there was a probationary period. If she couldn’t pull this off, Emma Croft was canned, and no one could stop him.

  “I think we should divide up to cover more ground. I’ll take victim two and Brynn can revisit Sara Jensen’s place. Maybe by the time we get out of autopsy, we’ll have her name.”

  “Sounds like a plausible plan,” Ford stated.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Croft didn't like the asshole, and he didn't like the way he ruled the office like some sort of all powerful czar. Somehow, he doubted this was going to be over anytime soon between them.

  “If you don’t mind, Captain, we’ll head out now,” Detective Westmore added, trying to take some of the heat off her partner. She swore that if she ever earned her captain’s bars, she’d never be a dictator like Ford.

  He simply nodded and returned to his paperwork.

  As the team left, Croft turned back at the door in time to see the glaring animosity filled look the man had been giving his wife.

  Their eyes met.

  Yeah, this was far from over.

  In fact, it was only beginning.

  Heading down the hallway to the morgue, the only sound present was the reverberating echo of footsteps. The walk there through the building had been relatively quiet, especially since they were all revisiting the previous bullpen meltdown by Captain Ford.

  Even though she was a little irritated at his caveman antics, what Emma really wanted to do was kiss her husband senseless. Fortunately, she refrained. After the morning’s spectacle, she needed to keep it all above regulations and to the letter of the law. It was going to be hard, but she’d have to crawl all over her husband in the privacy of their own home.

  With his partner staying there.

  Crap!

  Her attention was drawn to the main door to the autopsy suite. It was time to get down to business and her job. This morning, she was a little more enthusiastic--all because of the man at her side.

  Pushing the door open, they entered only to find the ME already had cut into the cadaver on the table. It was their second victim, and the Y-incision was already done.