Hell Is Burning (17 page)

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Authors: Morgan Kelley

BOOK: Hell Is Burning
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The public now knew that a detective was dead, she was strangled, hooded, and left for her old partner, Emma Croft to find her.

“Shit!” Greyson muttered. “We have a leak and they just pointed the media at us.”

Emma couldn’t believe it.

They’d been so careful.

“They just reported everything we have. There’s nothing left for the imagination. This is going to make it that much harder to do our jobs.”

Paris shook his head. “This is bad. If this was the killer, he’s upping his game. He wants to take this public. He’s on a mission, and they’re the most dangerous people to hunt.”

Croft was well aware.

“We have to get moving, and fast.”

Emma knew it was time to get their asses moving. Time was ticking, and the media had just started the clock. “Paris, you, Tessa, and Mace have to start digging. We need to know everything about victims one and two.”

They got up and rolled out.

Captain Ford didn't need to be told his job. He was going to have to head to vice and smooth this out with them. Then he was going to have to fight to keep this in their house. There was no doubt in his mind that vice had asked to handle Brynn’s murder as a special circumstance.

If the shoe was on the other foot, he would have done the same thing.

“I’ll cut off Captain Sherwood. He’s heading vice, and I might be able to smooth this over,” he stated, chugging his coffee. “Report in as soon as you can,” he stated.

With that, he was gone.

“Dante, you’re on babysitting.”

“What are you two going to do?” he asked.

Emma knew it was now an uphill race. They were going to have to get to Detective McGuire before vice, the media, and anyone else did.

“We’re on interviews,” Croft stated.

Emma grabbed her things, tucking them into her bag. Greyson did the same, holstering his weapon.

“Keep Curtis away from the TV,” he ordered.

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Dante asked.

“Bro, I don’t care, but figure it out. Play a video game, take him to the gym downstairs, but don’t let him watch the damn news! The last thing he needs is to hear that the media is using his dead wife as the lead in story.”

They headed out, hoping they could contain this before it was too late.

They didn't have high hopes.

 

 

 

 

 

          
         
* * *
  Croft & Croft  * * *

 

 

 

He saw her and knew she was the one. It was all about how she flirted and carried herself. It was like she wanted to be the center of attention for the world to see.

Oh, he’d seen it before, and it pissed him off.

She was all about flaunting her body, giving them what they wanted, and it sickened him.

He couldn’t help but plan her death.

She was wicked.

She was vile.

She was evil.

A part of him, a very small piece, didn't want to bother with her, but he knew history was repeating itself. She was promoting her wicked ways, and he didn't want to see it anymore. Someone should have taught her better manners growing up.

Unfortunately, she was in his crosshairs.

So, something had to be done.

He knew her routine, and it would be easy to get to her. If anything, she was predictable. On Wednesday nights, she liked to return and flaunt herself even more. It was like she couldn’t get enough of everyone’s attention.

Men.

Women.

She didn't care.

So, he made his plan. That’s when he’d get her.

She was meant to follow the others.

He had no choice.

 

It was destiny.

 

 

 

 

       
                          
* * *
  Croft & Croft  * * *

 

 

 

 

Las Vegas

High Rise

 

 

 

Dimitri Gideon sat in his luxury condo doing his work. Money bought him this little piece of heaven, and he never wanted to go back to the life before this.

Poverty sucked, and he knew better than most that it wasn’t easy fighting your way out of the ghettos of Russia. So many tried, and they’d failed.

He was a success story, but only because he’d been willing to do anything it took to make it out. Oh, he’d created himself, breaking the law, bending the truth, and tempting fate, but he’d survived. Whether people liked or hated the job he did, it didn't negate that it was important.

He was important.

Right now, he and his team were watching the Crofts. From the black leather couch, to the chrome surrounding him, he was taking care of business.

“What did you find?” Katerina Gideon asked, coming into the room with a cup of tea for each of them.

“There’s the normal chatter,” he offered, glancing over at his sister. Dimitri loved her very much. She was one of the few in the family that he had left in this world.

To him, that’s all that mattered.

It’s why he could sympathize with men like Randall Mason and Greyson Croft.

“Are they going to make a move on them?” she asked.

He contemplated it. “Likely. We’ll have to step in and take care of it.”

Then Dimitri stared over at her. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to get yourself dirty with these kinds of things, Kat. I can handle it.”

She loved her brother and this was one of the reasons why. He was so damn protective. Leaning over, she dropped a kiss to his cheek. From behind the luxurious sweep of dark hair, she grinned at him. “I do have to help. This is our life, and you’re my partner in crime. Well, so to speak.”

He dropped his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll take Croft, you take his wife.”

“He’s pretty hot,” she stated. “You got the good one. I wouldn’t mind taking him.”

Dimitri laughed at her silliness. “His wife is too, and you know the rules. Hands off the bosses or we lose the clientele. He’s happily married, and we want him to stay that way.” Dimitri knew his sister was beautiful, and they would often use her as bait to get to a horny man. He didn't want to hurt her, but honestly, Greyson Croft only had eyes for his wife. He couldn’t blame the man. The red head was gorgeous.

She could give his sister a run for her money.

“Yeah, yeah, so you keep saying. Don’t stress it. He’s really not my type. He’d eat me alive.”

He glanced over at his sister. “Do we have to go there? I don’t need the visuals in my head, and if I dust you for prints, I’m killing someone.”

She punched him, her aqua eyes twinkling. “You have to let me have some fun,” she teased.

He didn't have to do any such thing. Katerina was his responsibility, and he wasn’t going to let her get hurt. He would keep his own safe, and that’s all that mattered.

“No flirting with the Crofts.”

“When do we move?”

He focused on his data. “Tomorrow, we start tailing them. We have to make sure no one is going to take them out. If they do, we lose our biggest client.”

She laughed. “Uh, your only client. You dumped everything else to babysit the Fed and cop. That’s probably not your smartest move.”

He didn't disagree, but when Randall Mason asked, he didn't have the heart to say no. Then, as he did the research on them, he found them intriguing. Something told him to follow that path.

Why?

Dimitri had that gut feeling.

He always listened to his inner voice. As a soldier, it saved him countless times. This wasn’t going to be any different.

“Just be ready to tail them tomorrow. We have work to do. Speaking of which…break time is over. I have to get back to my intel gathering.”

Katerina took that as her cue. She knew her brother, and well. Getting up, she dropped a kiss to his cheek before heading out of the room. Katerina couldn’t wait to begin.

This case fascinated her.

Lately, she’d been bored and missing something.

 

 

Somehow, she had to believe big things were coming.

 

 

 

 

 

       
                      
* * *
  Croft & Croft  * * *

 

 

 

 

 

Well, having money did have its perks.

Inside the condo’s garage, Greyson Croft had to figure a way to get them out of there without the throngs of reporters waiting for them.

What he really needed was a bat cave. Then he could come and go as he wanted.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Instead of sweating it, he pulled rank and called for the limo. As it came to pick him and Emma up, he knew what he was going to do.

Leaning in, he told the driver to head to the police station and park in the lot. Hopefully, a few media vultures would assume Emma was inside.

When the limo left, from his vantage point, he could see all but three took off. Well, the last few he could lose. Pointing toward his Challenger, he grinned.

“Oh, boy,” Emma stated. “Someone’s in the mood to drive like a lunatic.”

He revved the engine.

Hell yeah, he was. Rarely, did he get the chance to act like a kid. Being head Fed was a heavy burden. Now he could screw with the media.

It was his favorite thing to do.

When they exited the underground garage, he nearly clipped some slow reporter who was in his way. When the tires squealed, and the man looked like a deer in headlights, Greyson giggled.

Emma stared at him. “The pressure has to be getting to you.”

He gunned it, laughing even more. To him, avoiding and eluding the press had become a hobby.

Score one for his vehicle and trickery.

As they headed out, he lost the last few reporters by taking the long way to the detective’s home.

Emma held on for dear life as he took the turns and curves like he was driving a Formula One vehicle. “You should take the Limo to work from here on out. I think you need your license revoked. Scratch that. I’m going to make sure it’s taken away from you.”

He laughed as he pulled up to the detective’s home. “Good cop and bad Fed?” he asked.

From the sexy gray eyes to the way he knotted his tie, she couldn’t say no to him. “You know that game gets me hot and bothered.”

Yeah, he was well aware.

That’s why he always did it. Watching Emma play cop was one of his favorite things. She didn't notice the transformation, but he did.

It was subtle.

And as hot as hell.

As they approached the house, Greyson felt off. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. Instinctually, he placed his body behind Emma’s to act as a shield. She’d kill him if she figured out he was playing armor, but that was life.

When she knocked, no one came to the door.

It finally took Croft banging with his fist to get someone’s attention.

“Jesus!” the man muttered as he opened the door. “I was sleeping.”

Then he recognized them.

“Oh, shit! Who’s dead?”

“Can we come in, Detective?” Emma asked.

He stepped back. He knew the woman from seeing her on the TV, and he recognized the man as her husband. If the Croft duo was making a visit, the FBI was assisting someone with a death.

“Yeah, come on in and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

Emma declined and continued, “We’re here to talk to you about someone you’re acquainted with who’s been killed. We’re working the case.”

He leaned back in his chair before dropping his bare feet onto the coffee table as he checked them out. He’d heard a lot about these two from his partner in vice. Brynn cared about them, and he trusted her judgment. If she said Emma was the best, he’d buy it.

“Okay, who?”

“Your partner.”

“What?” he asked, leaning forward as those two words caught him off guard. “What do you mean my partner? You investigate deaths.”

They let it hang in the air between them.

“No, you’re kidding, right?”

She shook her head.

Detective Greg McGuire ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, holy shit. Something happened to Brynn?”

Emma took that opportunity to keep going, but she opted not to rush head first into the semen part of the discussion. She had a feeling once she did…he’d clam up. “We need to talk to you about her.”

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