Hell Is Burning (22 page)

“Tessie?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”

She held onto him even as she wept. “No, Paris. I’m so proud of you. I never thought we’d have this back. Each time we make love, I’m reminded of what you mean to me. You’re the only man I’ll ever love.”

He let her hold him.

“Tess?”

She sniffled. “Yes?”

“What Brynn did to Curtis…?”

He didn't need to say anything more. “I’d die before I’d ever do that to you. You’re the one, Paris. From that first day we met, you’ve been the one for me.”

He kissed her chest above her heart. It was symbolic and spoke volumes.

Paris Archer was finally ready to be a husband, and he couldn’t wait.

Chapter Six

As she exited the building, he took his chance. She was so easy to grab. When she saw him, it was the friendly little wave and that was it. The entire thing pissed him off. She didn't deserve to know him.

She wasn’t worthy.

Once her back was turned, he went for it.

With very little effort, he dropped his forearm around her throat and let his muscles do all the work.

Slowly, he crushed the life from her body.

It was beautiful, and he loved every single second of it. When she was gone, he knew it was time to take her away.

“I have a special place for you,” he whispered, making sure no one saw them. “You’ll like it there. You’ll decorate the landscape, and class the place up,” he teased. When there was no response, he didn't care.

He was doing what had to be done.

Another one was gone. The world was free from one more bloated bag of self-worth.

Just like the original, this one was taken and would be disposed of too.

At his trunk, he dumped her inside. He had to hurry. The last thing he needed was to be seen, or worse, caught with her in his vehicle.

It would ruin everything.

He couldn’t let that happen.

As he drove through the night, he maneuvered his way into the trees before hopping out to get everything he needed.

A hood.

The rope.

His courage.

It was time.

Pulling her from the trunk, he hoisted her onto his shoulders for the trek. He was in excellent shape, so it wasn’t too difficult of a trip. He knew that a little pain was worth it in the end.

Her death was worth everything to him.

He had to do something to make it all right. He had to continue the work that he’d started so long ago.

It was his destiny.

In the middle of the trees, he found the perfect one, and he set the scene. He prided himself on being OCD, so this one had to match the others.

First, he removed her jewelry and tucked it in his pocket. Later, he’d get rid of it.

She didn't need it where she was going. In fact, she was gaudy with it, and that’s why he picked her.

It caught his eye.

Getting ready to hood her, he stared down into her dead eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. You don’t understand. No one does. You had to die.”

As he said the words, he became angry. He couldn’t stop himself from apologizing to her. With his fists, he punched her over and over again, pummeling her face beyond recognition.

She had to pay.

It was all her fault.

She made him like this so many years ago.

When he was finally back in control, he took a deep breath to steady himself. Now he needed to get it done.

“Okay. I’m okay,” he said, staring down at her battered face. “It’s time to go.”

Hooding her, he tied the rope around her neck before stringing her up in the tree. As he tied it off, he stepped back to stare up at her.

Already, the blood was seeping through the pricy cotton pillowcase. It was forming a sick looking inkblot on the covering. It was like those psychological tests he once had to take.

He saw the devil.

It was mocking him as it stared back.

It knew what he was doing.

Everyone did.

He was afraid.

Grabbing his things, he raced back to his vehicle. The voices in his head were warning him that he couldn’t stay there. He’d done something very wrong.

It was time to flee, or someone would know what he did. They’d hurt him.

They’d lock him away.

He couldn’t allow that.

If that happened, he’d lose everything he’d worked so hard to get.

It wasn’t an option.

Not for him.

Not now.

       
                       
* * *
  Croft & Croft  * * *

Thursday Morning

No one enjoyed being up at five in the morning to work. Greyson was pretty sure that was a fact across the board. At that time of the day, Vegas was still wide awake, not quite asleep from the night before. The hustle and bustle was ongoing, and because he was cranky, irritating as hell.

With a case like this, he and Emma were going to be getting up early to work. It didn't matter that they sat on the couch, hours after Curtis slept, to work on the case.

It was a waste of time.

They had nothing new to account for it. Now that the sun was coming up, they would hit the ground running.

There was business to handle.

He needed a vacation, only death didn't take a holiday, at least not in ‘Sin City’.

The irony was, they could quit their jobs and go buy an island. Yet, they didn't.

Greyson was beginning to believe they were nothing more than convoluted fools.

“Emma, honey, we have to get up.”

She sat up and stretched. “This sucks,” she stated. “We just went to sleep.”

“Four hours ago. I know.”

At least he wasn’t alone in the crankiness. It appeared that misery liked company. There was no one he’d rather be grumpy with.

“When this is over…” he began, getting ready to offer her a goal to work toward.

Emma cut him off. “Your parents will be here until Christmas. Shut that idea down. If we leave them, they’ll stay longer,” she warned. That was the last thing she wanted. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Greyson’s parents. They were her in-laws, but his mother…she seemed to think that her boys were the second coming of Christ. She didn't seem to get that Greyson had hit the big time with her help. Yes, the money was nice, but they were public servants to the core.

“Oh, shit. I keep forgetting about them.”

“Yeah, funny, I don’t. They’ll be here any day, Mr. Croft. Any day.”

“Great. My day just got worse and I haven’t even left our bedroom.”

He grabbed a pair of jeans out of his closet and pulled them on. When Greyson glanced up, he didn't miss that his wife was watching him. “What?”

“Jeans?”

“That’s how tired I am. I don’t think I could manage a tie and dress shoes. Besides, what are my bosses going to do? One dresses like this all the time. They can fire me. Then I can drag my wife back into bed with me.”

Emma pulled back her red hair, and grinned at him. “No, I’ll still be going to work, because I can dress like that every day too. You’re the only one screwed here, buddy.”

He threw a pillow at her.

“You’re just lucky I’m so tired that I can’t muster the energy to grab you.”

Emma headed for the door as her husband followed carrying his polo shirt and blazer. When they got out to the living room, Curtis was sitting on the floor with his back to the door.

Apparently, he didn't want them sneaking out.

She looked at her husband. “Uh, that’s not normal. Is he holding us hostage in our own home?”

Greyson patted his Glock. “We’re armed. He doesn’t have a fighting chance.”

The young man looked up when he heard their voices. “Morning. I was waiting for you so we could go to work.”

“We have furniture, Curtis,” Greyson stated as Emma made them coffee. “Most people like to plant their asses on it instead of the tile floor.”

“Yeah, then I’d fall asleep on the couch and you two would leave me here. So, I had to be where you couldn’t ditch me. It’s not like you could take the balcony to the main floor. We’re over a hundred feet up.”

He had a point.

Greyson stared at him. “I don’t have to ditch you, Curtis. I just have to tell security at the office that you’re prohibited from being upstairs. They’d detain you in holding downstairs.”

He stared at him. That was the truth, and right at that moment, he wasn’t quite sure Greyson wouldn’t do that to him. After all, he’d punched him in the face.

“I need in.”

“You need psychiatric help if you think I’m ever going to let that happen.”

“Why?” he asked, heading to the kitchen after the man. There was no way he was going to let this go.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

Curtis wanted justice for his cheating wife.

He nearly laughed.

His life sucked.

“Well, let’s recap. Your wife was brutally murdered three days ago, and no one should be involved on that kind of case when it hits this close to home.”

“You’d want to work Emma’s murder.”

He glared at the man and then crossed himself. “Don’t even put that out there!”

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

Emma poured them coffee and waited to watch this one unfold. She and Greyson wanted him as far from this as possible, but they needed a baby sitter, and no one was available. Their house needed Dante there to finalize some of the plans, Steele was neck deep in bodies, and the rest of the team was digging for anything they could find. Besides, Curtis escaped one babysitter already.

Greyson was ticking off reasons on his fingers. “Secondly, you were going to eat your gun. I’m not feeling so secure, letting you run around in a building full of them. Call me crazy, but you may just be a few screws short of an erector set.”

“I don’t have a gun. You took it and won’t give it back. So, I can’t hurt anyone--including myself. Going postal is out of the question.”

“Curtis,” he began.

“I need this.”

“You broke into our bedroom, hacked my email, stole our car, and assaulted a police officer, Curtis. Does that sound sane and logical?”

“No, but I was under duress. I need this, Greyson. I can still type, and I can still research. I know I can’t go out in the field, but you can sit me at a desk and use me. I’m damn good at grunt work. I used to be your partner. You trained me.”

They could hear the hurt in his voice.

“Well, you got one thing absolutely right. You’re on administrative leave until I retire.”

“Please let me help. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I can’t escape it. I need to put this to bed, so I can move on. My wife cheated on me. It happened, and I can’t change that, but I can change what happens from here on out. I need to get over her, and that means being with people who will have my back. She fucked me over, Grey. Please help me patch my life back up. I don’t deserve your help, but I need it. I need you. You’re like my dad. Please. I’ll beg if that’s what it takes.”

Croft closed his eyes and sighed. Of course, he was going to pull the family card. “It’s up to the lead investigator. I’m just here to help out.”

Emma’s cup paused halfway to her mouth. Did he just toss her under the bus?

“Please, Mom?” Curtis asked, turning the puppy dog eyes on her.

She gave Greyson the look, and he didn't even try to pretend that he didn't just dump this in her lap. Now it was good cop bad cop, with her making the choice.

Damn him!

“You sit in that conference room and do nothing but research. There will be no revenge, no plotting someone’s demise, or your own suicide. You’re not allowed to look at autopsy photos or freak out if something else pops up. Are we clear?”

He nodded.

Emma wanted him to know how she felt about this. “Curtis, this is a bad idea.”

He was well aware, but he didn't care. He needed to heal, and this was the only way to do it. They were the only way he’d get through this.

“I’ll behave.”

She dumped Greyson’s travel mug into the sink, along with the rest of the pot of coffee. When he objected, she pointed at him and sipped hers. “You threw me under the bus, and that’s your payback.”

She headed to the door. “Come on. We need to get to the office.”

Emma didn't know why she caved. She only hoped it wasn’t a huge mistake.

Then again, there’d already been so many mistakes in this mess.

What the hell was one more?

While they told their people seven in the morning, they were all there and ready when they arrived. Apparently, they had worked with them enough times to know that Greyson liked everyone to be early.

It worked for her.

When they walked in, they were all talking.

Then they saw Curtis.

Everyone shut up.

It was that uncomfortable silence that appeared when you didn't know what to say to someone who was suffering. This man was their friend, and they hurt for him.