Hell Is Burning (9 page)

At the commotion, the man he needed to see stepped out of his office.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked when he saw the man surrounded by officers. A few had their hands on the butts of their guns.

Talk about overkill.

Pointing, he growled angrily. “He doesn’t need a reason to see me! When the head of the FBI shows up here, you show him some damn respect! Got it?”

They dissipated pretty fast, none looking back.

Greyson headed toward the man, and once there, he shook his hand. “I’m sorry for the spectacle, but we have a huge problem.”

Chris escorted him into the privacy of the office. “Don’t apologize. You’re welcome in my office anytime. I don’t care what those idiots are saying. Now, are we talking about the Thomas Booker kind of problem?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. The case Emma is working with Mace just blew up around them, and now I’m helping out.”

This was news to him. His detectives didn't call him to alert his office of any issues. He was starting to get mad. If anything, he loved protocol. It kept the wheels turning.

Ford lifted a brow. “That was fast. Did she run to you the second the body was in the ME van? I’m a little surprised.”

Croft saw this coming.

“Yeah, about that, Chris. The body isn't in your morgue. She had it, and the others, transferred to our office. Steele Bentley has the new victim, and he’s doing the autopsies as we speak.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Really? Emma didn't check in with me. What’s going on?” he asked. He wanted to be irritated, since he really didn't like Feds, but in this case, he genuinely had a fondness for his detective and her husband.

He’d give them the benefit of the doubt.

“We have a big problem.”

“What?”

“You have to promise me to keep this locked down. We’re running against the clock on this one. Silence is going to be our best friend. That’s why I’ve come here personally.”

He leaned forward. “I promise, and?”

“The body that was pulled in today was Brynn Westmore-Briggs.”

Ford actually gasped. “You’re kidding. This killer went after a cop?”

He nodded.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“Yeah, we know. That’s why I’m here. Emma and Mace are holed up in my office working, Steele is going to keep this on the DL, and I’m here to ask for your help.”

“Are you sure it’s her?”

He pulled out his phone and handed it to the man. As Chris Ford scrolled through the pictures, his face softened. “Oh, Detective, what did you get yourself into?”

Croft watched him. The badass boss wasn’t looking so intimidating. In fact, he looked tired all of the sudden. The weight of this was now on his shoulders too.

“I didn't want to transfer her to vice,” he offered. “When she came to me with the papers, I didn't really believe she wanted to go. When I pushed, she said it was best for her husband and her. She wanted me to expedite them.”

Yeah, there was guilt for both of them--
Chris because he sent her to the new team, and Greyson because he’d gotten her hurt on her last case with Emma.

“Yeah, Agent Briggs blames me for her getting taken. I’m the reason she left. This one is on me, so get in line for the guilt train. I'm up first.”

“How did this happen?” Chris asked. “From what I know about this case, Emma just got those two bodies. I hope this isn't going to become a case of targeting cops.”

Yeah, him too.

“We don’t know what’s going on yet, but we have to keep this quiet. First, Curtis doesn’t know yet. He’s my next stop. If the media gets their hands on this, it’s going to be a shit fest. They’re going to plaster her face, and my wife’s, all over the news. You know that it’s going to be about us being crooked and corrupt. They’ll assume my illegal activities got her killed.”

Ford felt for the man. He knew personally that neither Emma, nor Greyson, gave a shit about the money. If they did, they’d be packing it in and laying low on some beach in a third world nation that they now owned.

Yet, here they were in the trenches with the rest of the poor working slobs. It spoke of their character.

That was good enough for him.

“On top of that mess, once the cops in her house find out that she’d been murdered…”

Chris understood. “They’re going to want the LVPD investigating it, not the FBI.”

“Well, that’s where it gets tricky. Emma is yours, but she’s also mine. Once they see me involved, they’re going to scream cover-up of some sort. That’s why I’m here. I need your help. I’ll owe you one. Just keep them off my wife’s ass, so she can do her job. It’s bad enough we’re battling Marianna and this asshole who wants my head on a pike, but now this too. We’ve already been tried in the media. Half the town loathes us, the other half is curious as hell about us.”

It had to be irritating. That would have driven Chris insane the second it started.

“You’ve got your deal on one condition.”

Greyson waited for it. “What?”

“I want in. She was one of my detectives at one time, and I have some personal time coming. I can take a few days off and help out. It’s been a while since I was out in the field, but I think I can manage. It’s like riding a bicycle--you never forget.”

Greyson held out his hand. “Thank you, Chris.”

“I am going to have to tell the commissioner, but hopefully he’ll keep it quiet. He hates a public spectacle, and since I’ve been there before in his position, I’m willing to bet he’s going to want this kept under wraps. It’s tourist season. He won’t want to stir the pot with the influx of people coming here.”

Croft was about to do something he loathed. “Tell him I’ll double my donation to his organization if he keeps the lid on this.”

Ford laughed. “Money talks, huh?”

“Yeah, and it makes me feel dirty. If Emma’s ass wasn’t on the line, I wouldn’t give a shit, but I like keeping everyone off her as much as possible.”

“I hear you. Maybe I can throw a few dollars at him and he’ll leave me alone too. I never thought to try that. How much do you think it’ll take?”

Croft stood, laughing at his friend. “For fifty thousand, you’d be amazed what you can buy.”

Ford choked on his coffee. “Shit! Croft! How much money do you have?”

He laughed. “Chris, you really don’t want to know. You’ll throw up. I know Emma and I both are sick over it.”

“Do you want me to go with you to tell your agent?” he asked, trying to figure out the man’s net worth. He’d heard rumors, but they couldn’t be true.

Could they?

“No, and you’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“It’s hard not to,” he admitted.

Croft grabbed a pen and piece of paper. Quickly, he scribbled something down. “If you’re serious about wanting in, be at our place tomorrow. We’re going to start working there. It’s private, and in case this gets out, Emma can’t be inundated by this mess there.”

He slid the paper across the table.

“What’s this?” Ford asked, as Croft headed out. “Is it an account number?”

He laughed. “That’s Emma’s net worth. Well, that was last month’s figure. It’s gone up.”

Ford stared at it. “Holy shit! You have to be kidding me!”

Sadly, he wasn’t.

“See you tomorrow, Chris.”

With that, he was gone.

Chris Ford simply stared at the closing door as he tried to wrap his brain around it. That number had to be a mistake. There were way too many digits.

“Just holy shit!”

       
                         
* * *
  Croft & Croft  * * *

Across Las Vegas

This was going to be fun.

Yes, trying to take down Greyson and Emma Croft had become an obsession. Sitting back, it was amusing to watch Dominic Marianna try to destroy them but to no avail. He was chasing his tail like some pathetic, downtrodden puppy.

It was sad.

They, at one time, had tried to take that route too, and it turned into yet another epic failure on their behalf.

It was a lesson learned.

Now, the plan was simple.

It was time to pick them off, one by one.

It was obvious that Greyson and Emma were getting tougher to isolate, so why not go for the people who mattered most to them?

Their inner circle was going to be the way.

Not only was it easier, but it was also more entertaining.  They were safe for now, but in the end, there could be only one winner in Vegas, and it wasn’t going to be the Crofts.

Not by a long shot.

The power struggle was still there, and in the end, there would be only one person left standing.

It wouldn’t be Greyson.

It wouldn’t be Emma.

It would be the criminal mastermind.

The time was coming.

       
                         
* * *
  Croft & Croft  * * *

Two Hours Later

FBI Las Vegas

Emma was grateful to have the quiet place to work. Greyson’s secretary was getting them anything they needed, and the rest of the team was beginning to arrive.

Paris Archer was always a welcomed sight, and when he rolled in, Emma gave him a hug.

He was all smiles and easy going nature.

Until she told him what was happening. Immediately, his demeanor morphed, and the serious profiler beneath was out and ready to do anything to find this killer.

He was just as shell shocked as the rest of them. She couldn’t blame him. This whole thing was shitty and from out of the blue. Who knew one of their own would be killed by some serial nutjob? Brynn may have moved on, severing all ties to them, but still…

There was loyalty among cops.

It didn't matter the name on the badge. It all held true. They bled for their comrades, and they’d find this killer--if it was the last thing they did.

Getting down to work, they divided everything between them. Mace had made himself comfortable on the couch, flipping through the information they already had on the women, and it wasn’t much. They were going to need some in-depth digging before the day was out.

When Emma sighed, both men glanced over. It was clearly written on their faces what they were thinking.

She knew it was coming.

“You know that there’s nothing wrong with bowing out on this one, Emma,” Paris stated. “You’re too close to the fire on this case. Brynn was your friend.”

She knew he was right, but it didn't matter. She had to find this killer. This was her job, and she needed to be neutral. If she couldn’t be a cop at that moment, the only other choice was a grieving mess.

That wasn’t an option for her.

Emma was getting stronger. Vegas, at first, had scared her. Now it was the steel in her backbone. Coming back to homicide had been cathartic.

She wasn’t running.

Not now.

Not ever.

Those days of being afraid were over. She wouldn’t cower in fear from eating meat or death. She was tougher than that.

“I can’t, Paris. It’s like when you got shot. Greyson was on a mission to find the person who did it. He stood for you and the other Feds who were gunned down. Now I have to do the same for Brynn. Curtis may hate us, but we’ll do this for him. We’ll put this to bed.”

At the mention of the man’s name, Paris understood. “I have to be honest. This is my biggest fear. I wake up every day thinking Tessa is going to get hurt, and I’m going to get called into this office and told she’s gone. I’ve seen lots of shitty things, and they should make me sick, but that’s my only breaking point. I feel for Curtis. This is going to hurt.”

She patted him on the arm. “I hear you. It’s like the day the news said Greyson was shot. I thought I’d died inside.”

Mace shrugged. “Maybe I’m lucky. I never had that fear. My ex was a civilian. Then again, she never had that either. My wife didn't really care. If she did, she never showed it.”

“You’ll find one who will care,” Emma reassured. “She’s out there, Mace. I promise.”

He didn't buy it.

“What do we need?” Paris asked, getting them back on track. He didn't want to think about Tessa getting hurt.

It made him sick.

“We need to know what Brynn was working on. Maybe she crossed paths with her killer on a case for vice,” Mace stated.