Dark Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 1) (48 page)

He sat and began flipping through the files.

“Who’s next?” asked Tessa.

Emma thought about the people they’d interviewed that day.

“Trent Webb is the criminal who did his community service at the Methadone clinic. I don’t think he could plan this,” she stated.

Greyson agreed. “We can connect him to all five, since they were getting their drugs from that clinic, and we can also connect him to Sallie Mae Patton. They were having sex in exchange for drugs.”

“He’s a weasel. I can’t see him killing anyone,” Emma stated. “He was scared shitless of us.”

“Of you,” Greyson stated.

Paris spoke up. “That would fit the profile. He’s going to be afraid of the opposite sex. He’s going to be scared that he’ll be hurt again.”

Emma thought about that.

Paris had a point. Maybe the most obvious person was the killer. Maybe they were making this far harder than it needed to be.

“He stays, simply because he’s had contact with all of them. That bumps him to the top.”

She marked that on the board.

Curtis’s laptop beeped. “I have the information you wanted on Bryan Calhoun.”

“Spill it.”

“He’s a legit business owner. The store is his. He’s the only owner listed, and it’s been in the same location for the last ten years. As of late, it’s been going downhill from the neighborhood crime.”

“That would make me hate people,” Dimitri stated. “He built his business, and people, mainly hookers and pimps, are destroying it. That has to be a bitch.”

She agreed.

Emma scribbled it on the board.

Tessa whistled.

“What?” she asked.

Reading over Paris’s shoulder, she could see what kind of crazy they were dealing with when it came to Bryan Calhoun.

“The man has filed one hundred and ten complaints against Officer Bell. In most of them, he claims he didn’t arrest the hookers, but let them move on. He wanted them gone for good.”

“Well, I want a sexy man to take care of me. We can’t always get what we want.”

“Uh, hello?” Greyson stated, laughing. “You’ve got that, kitten.”

“Please don’t get him started,” Curtis begged. “If you do, we’re going to have to watch him in action, and I don’t think I can handle it.”

Emma laughed when her husband lecherously wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m interviewing him tomorrow. I want all his background information, same as with the other suspects. Find me his woman issues. There has to be one person on the list who has them.”

They agreed.

“Next?”

“Tucker Bell,” Dimitri stated. He was getting into this sleuthing thing. This wasn’t how he normally did this job, but it was interesting to see it from the other side. Maybe there was more to it than just cracking skulls.

Emma clued the team in on Dimitri’s interview. “He hates ‘fag’ cops, and he hates his brother.”

Everyone in that room hated that word. They could hear the anger in Emma’s voice. She specifically loathed when someone dropped that
‘F’
word.

“That sounds like a good combination,” Dante stated. “He sounds like an asshole or spoiled brat. Someone should kick his ass. Maybe one of us
‘fags’
.”

Emma agreed.

“His mother was killed, he ended up being raised by his siblings, and I think they catered to him a little too much. He’s been in trouble a lot.”

Paris thought about it.

“Research how his mother died. That might be it. If she was killed by someone exerting power, or he watched it happen, that would mold him.”

They added him to the search.

“Who’s next?” Greyson asked.

“Charlie Tillman,” she stated.

“He’s the original partner who wanted out of that partnership in the worst way. He always thought his partner was thinking about his dick.”

“Dick is good,” Dante stated, trying to lighten the mood. All the women laughed.

The men?

Other than Dante and Steele, not so much. They just stared at him.

“Wow! This is a tough crowd in the house tonight,” he stated. “Maybe his ex-partner wanted revenge. He’d gotten his record marred up because of him.”

While Emma knew how important a cop’s record was to them, she wasn’t so sure.

“Paris? What do you think?”

Paris didn’t think it fit.

“Getting your dick groped, while uncomfortable for a straight man, wouldn’t be a catalyst enough to push him over the edge. I don’t think it’ll be him.”

Emma was good with his assessment but still…

“I want you to run his family. If nothing pops up, we can take him off the list.”

Well, they were at the end of the line.

Now it was going to come down to finding the secrets hidden in their pasts.

It would take time.

“You have until tomorrow,” stated Emma. “I need everything going into my interview with Bryan Calhoun.”

They got it.

Emma was beat.

The lack of sleep was killing her.

Before she could say she was going to grab a bath, hit the bed, and maybe roll around with her husband, the gate buzzer rang.

“Yes?” Dimitri asked.

“Messenger service. I have a package for Greyson Croft.”

“Who’s the sender?”

“Raven McLaw.”

Dimitri glanced over. “Are you expecting something from a Raven McLaw?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never even heard of that person,” he stated.

Curtis searched that name. “There’s no one by that name in this city, or state.”

That was alarming.

“I’ll go out.”

Greyson wasn’t going to let Dimitri handle this alone. He also knew who would try to follow him out. So, he laid down the law rather fast.

“Emma, stay here. We’ll be back.”

She wasn’t happy with the bossiness, since she was tired and cranky, but she’d swallow it.

Watching from the monitor, she made sure her husband was safe.

If he wasn’t, then later, she’d kick his sexy ass.

Outside, Dimitri approached the gate.

He signed for the envelope and felt it for anything funky. It was perfectly flat, didn’t rattle, and was very nondescript.

“It feels like paper,” he admitted as he began opening it. When it was clear, he pulled the sheet out for Greyson.

Croft read over it.

“What is it?”

“It’s a copy of an order.”

“For?”

“The FBI has requested round the clock surveillance for the Commissioner.  It’s the listing of the dates, times, and vehicles being used. The FBI makes us put everything down to protect them from liability.”

“So someone sent you a heads up?” he asked.

Greyson laughed. “Yeah, Elizabeth Blackhawk did this. Ethan always wears this tie with ravens all over it. He told me once his wife gave it to him. The raven is important in their culture. She’s got to be Raven McLaw.”

“So, she’s got your back.”

He turned the photocopied paper over, and on it was a note.

‘Greyson,

I hope this helps. I’ll keep my eyes open, but don’t let this cat out of the bag. If I were you, I’d approach the jackwagon and set him up. Let the media keep him busy. You’re a smart man. I think you can figure out how to screw with him.

I’ve got your back.

Check out his ex-wife…

Raven McLaw.’

Oh, she was clever—he’d give her that.

Greyson really appreciated it. It looked like Elizabeth Blackhawk had kept her word. She really did have his back, and she gave him a place to start.

“I guess we’re going to start with his ex,” Dimitri stated.

“Yeah, let’s see what pops when we start digging. Then we need to come up with a plan. I want to make the commissioner suffer. Do we have any reporters we can buy to help us out?”

Dimitri laughed. “Yeah, why?”

“Here’s what I want to do tomorrow. It’ll work, but I’m going to need a little help setting it up. Maybe Emma can take that interview and you can get Kat or Nat to follow her.”

“They’re free. They’ll be more than happy to watch her.”

“Perfect. Now, here’s my plan.”

He told him everything.

It appeared Greyson Croft had been thinking a great deal about how to handle this.

He was impressed.

When he was done, Dimitri was laughing his ass off. The man would never see this one coming. While this kept him busy, they’d start working on the ex-wife angle.

“Are you sure you’ve never been a bad guy before? That’s one hell of a plan. I don’t think I could have come up with it.”

“Think it will work?” he asked.

Oh, it would definitely work for two reasons. The commissioner was a moron, and secondly, he didn’t think outside the box. Dimitri didn’t doubt it would fall into place.

“Oh, it’s going to do two things, my friend.”

“What?”

“Buy us some time, and piss that man right off. We won’t have long, but we’ll be ahead of the game for the next round.”

Perfect.

That was all he could ask for at this point.

“Help me get it done?”

Dimitri held out his hand and they shook.

“It would be my pleasure.”

And it really would.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Terrace Glen

Tuesday Morning

When Dante woke up, Steele was nowhere to be found. That worried him. Deep down, he fully expected the man, at some point, to change his mind and run.

If he was gone, Dante was going to be pissed.

It was dangerous out there, and he didn’t want to see Steele hurt. He really hoped he hadn’t left the property. The crooked cops in Vegas would love to use him to hurt the family.

That wasn’t his only worry.

The media wanted dirt on Steele’s injuries. They’d gone as far as buying off someone in the hospital and publishing his rape.

It was horrifying on so many levels. Seeing that on the television had set him into a rage. Dante promised to keep his fiancé safe, and he would.

When they’d gone to bed last night, Steele had slept fully dressed. Dante knew it was going to be a long journey back to where they once were, and that it wouldn’t happen overnight.

He had to let him set the pace.

Steele had to tell him when he was ready to be held, touched, and loved to again. This wasn’t up to Dante. This had to be all about Steele.

Truthfully, Dante was just so happy to have his other half back, that he’d forgo intimacy for the rest of his life. He didn’t care about the sex. As long as Steele was healed, he’d sacrifice sex, food, water, or his life.

During the night, Steele had moved closer to his body. Dante made sure he didn’t reach for him. Instead, he remained on his side, so the man could come into the frame of his body for protection.

And he’d done it.

As soon as he was there, his face went into his neck, and he whimpered like a wounded animal in his sleep.

It made Dante want to cry.

He didn’t know what to do for him, other than simply love him with all he had. Paris had said it was going to be a long fight to help his partner, and he was ready.

Well, once he figured out where the bloody hell Steele had gone.

Hopping out of bed, he yanked on a pair of jeans. While he’d normally wander in boxers, since that was just how he rolled and it irritated his brother, he knew that they had company.

Tessa Archer didn’t need to see some random guy in his skivvies. Paris was a good guy, and teasing him wasn’t nearly as much fun.

Emma?

Yes!

Greyson?

Yes!

Hell!

Curtis?

Definitely!

Heading down, he checked the security monitors. The cameras in the garage were the first place he scanned.

There were no cars missing, and he didn’t see an alert that the gate had been opened since last night when Dimitri came home.

It gave him hope.

Steele was somewhere.

Heading toward the one office, he heard a rustling of papers in the silence of the house.

“Steele?” he called, not wanting to sneak up on the man. That’s the last thing he needed to do.

That would scare him.

“In here, Dante.”

When he peeked his head inside the room, the man had the autopsy reports taped to the walls, and he was sitting on the floor with a pen and paper.

It looked like someone had flipped their nut.

“Uh, are you okay?” he asked, looking around.

Steele glanced over at him. “No.”

Dante slowly entered the room and took a seat beside his fiancé. “What’s going on, Steele? Do you need me to get Doctor Archer?”

He looked at him in confusion.

“What?”

Dante pointed at the wall. “Are you having a breakdown?”

All of a sudden, Steele closed his eyes. “I think I really screwed up, Dante.”

He didn’t understand.

“I really fucked this up years ago. This case is jacked. This whole thing isn’t adding up. I think I helped the police send an innocent man to jail.”

“What?”

“I found the tox reports and I found the trace reports. I used Dimitri’s laptop. I hope he doesn’t mind,” Steele said, pointing at it on the desk.

“He won’t.”

Steele began crying. “I made a huge mistake.”

Dante put his arms around him, trying to offer him some comfort. This was more proof to him that Steele absolutely couldn’t go back to his career. If he was getting this upset over a case that happened years ago, what would he do with a slew of cops breathing down his neck to get their information?

Yeah, his ME days were done.

“I don’t know what to do,” Steele said, holding onto his fiancé.

The answer was simple in Dante’s mind.

“We backtrack using the things you found, and we try and figure out what happened. If you made a mistake, we’ll fix it and help set the wrong man free.”

Steele nodded.

Dante wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“I can’t believe I made a mistake, and I can’t believe that Doctor Filmore wasn’t really checking my work. He told me he went over it with a fine tooth comb, but he didn’t. There’s no way he could have done that.”

Dante tried to get him to breathe.

“Shhhhh. We’ll fix it. I’m here. What can I do?”

“I need to go back through all the tox reports and see if this is in all of them,” he said, handing Steele his paper.

Dante read it.

“This is what has you all freaked out?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“These two things are the only trace on the victims that matches. Had the judge seen that, had it been added to evidence, it wouldn’t have pointed him. I’m sure of it now, since I’ve done this for a while.”

Dante grabbed some of the other papers.

“Okay, let’s work on this. We’ll get the information, and get it to Emma.”

“I feel horrible.”

“Accidents happen.”

Steele was shaken by this. He was really sickened that he might have helped put an innocent man in jail.

To die.

He had to make this right.

 
         
* * *
  G r e y s o n   C r o f t   * * *

Commissioner’s Home

Personal Office

The phone call was important.

He waited for the new Director of the FBI to answer the phone. When he did, he sounded like he was half-asleep.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Did you get approved?”

He laughed. “Yes, relax, Jeffrey. You have your surveillance. There will be one team following Greyson Croft whenever he leaves his home, and one right outside that hotel. That’s all I could get. The new Deputy Director, Ethan Blackhawk wouldn’t approve anything more. I tried to get someone planted at their home, or in a business, but we have budget constraints.”

Shit!

“Why won’t he play the game?”

“No clue. He simply said I had to get him hard, irrefutable evidence before I bother him again.”

Oh, they would.

“I have two detectives on the Mace Bristol murder.”

“Good. I want to know who killed one of ours. If it was Croft, he killed a cop. That’s the chair in this state.”

“Well, here’s a little side note,” Commissioner Raye offered the man. “They’re working on getting a cop out of jail.”

He told him all about Seth Bell.

“Did he do the killings?” Director Robert Lee asked.

There was hesitation.

“What?”

“I don’t know. The files were all sealed and by Thomas Booker, my predecessor.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Tell me now, Jeff. Am I going to get burned by helping you? If your office is dirty, you need to clean it up. I just got this positon, and I’m undoing a lot of shit the last man left. He ran this place differently than I would, and I’m not looking forward to the media making my life hell. Joint cooperation means you watching my back for me too.”

He got it.

“I don’t know. If there’s dirt, I haven’t seen it yet.”

He lied.

He was damn well aware that the mayor, back when Seth Bell had been arrested, wanted this case cleaned up for Vegas’s tourism. They went with the most likely suspect.

How they did it, he didn’t know.

It involved a judge, some mayor pull, and tightening the strings on a defense attorney.

The less he knew, the better.

“We’ll be fine.”

“I hope so. If I get singed, you’re going into the fire first, Jeffrey. Keep that in mind. Clean up your house and get it in order, or we can’t work together.”

He got it.

If this blew up, the man was walking.

With Greyson Croft, he needed as many allies as possible. He was going to make sure he had them.

“I’ll handle it. The execution is next week. As far as I’m concerned, they have the right guy. A judge won’t review it. We’re golden.”

Director Lee hoped so.

“I have to get ready for work. Don’t call me, Jeffrey. I’ll call you.”

The line went dead.

Shit!

Even out of his job, Greyson Croft was causing shit to head his way. He needed to stop the man.

He needed to bury him.

There could only be one law in Vegas, and it was him. The FBI would have to take a back seat.

Vegas was his.

He’d earned it.

           
         
* * *
  G r e y s o n   C r o f t   * * *

Terrace Glenn

Eight A.M.

It was a sign of how tired everyone there really was. Emma and Greyson had yet to appear, and even when they did, they told the Chef just coffee. No one had time for fancy food today.

That meant everyone was on their own.

Curtis didn’t mind.

He could whip some cereal together, or fruit for Kat when she arrived. They’d rolled around, giggling in pure exhaustion for a good part of the night, so while she was showering, he was going to make her food.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he saw Chris Ford staring out a window that faced the pool.

Since he’d just walked past there, he knew who was swimming.

Natasha.

It looked like something was brewing. Kat had told him that Natasha was infatuated with the man, and Curtis was both amused and horrified.

Nat was going to be his sister-in-law. He wanted to protect her. It wasn’t that Chris Ford would hurt her. The man was a good, decent person. Emma wouldn’t love him like she did if he wasn’t, but he had baggage.

Lots.

And.

Lots.

Of.

Baggage.

The kind that could bury a relationship before it even started. If Nat started something with him, it might get ugly. The last thing they needed was a war.

Dimitri would be obligated to kill the man, Emma would be obligated to defend Chris, and the rest of them would be in the middle—having to choose sides.

He had to be proactive.

Someone had to cut this potential divide off before it had a chance to rear its ugly head.

“You like her.”

The disturbance in the silence caught him off guard. Chris actually jumped.

“What?”

“You and Nat. I can see the way you’re staring at her. You aren’t watching her like a sex object, which is hard not to do while she’s wearing that blue bikini.”

“Pink.”

Curtis grinned. “Yeah, I know. I wanted to see if you did too. What’s going on in your head, Chris?”

“It doesn’t matter if I like her or not. Women are a bad idea when it comes to my life.”

“Why are you being so hard on yourself?”

Chris turned around.

That was simple.

Unlike everything else in his life, this was the one thing that didn’t confuse him. The truth was the truth.

“Because at first, I liked my ex-wife too.”

Curtis got it. Every male under that roof had been screwed up over a woman at one time—him included.

“Remember what you told me when Brynn nearly destroyed my life, and then was killed?”