Dark Justice (Croft Family Mob Series Book 1) (21 page)

He ran his thumb over her lower lip.

“Not like this, Kat.”

She was surprised.

“Oh.”

“Like this.”

He stood, placing her on the chair. Greyson and Emma told him to be the romantic one, and he was going to do that. This was her day. He wanted Katerina to remember it forever.

She chased him and waited long enough.

“Anfisa, you’re my ultimate dream. There would never be a woman who could come close to you. You make me laugh, you popped into my life when it was chaos, and you silenced the demons. You were patient when I wasn’t ready, and you didn’t hurt me when you said no. You had to be ready too. I can see now that you are. That’s all I wanted. I wanted us to both be ready to make this commitment.”

She placed her fingers over his hand on her face.

“I love you, my beautiful flower. Will you do me the honor of marrying me? Will you make me the luckiest man in the world and be my bride, the mother of my child, and the woman I choose to walk down this path with for the rest of my life?”

She sniffled.

“Yes, I will, Curtis. It’ll always be yes.”

He brought his lips to hers. When he pulled away, she was smiling, and it lit up his life.

“We’ll get married here in the gardens, under the arbor, and with our family.”

She nodded. “That sounds amazing.”

“I love you, Kat.”

“Oh, Curtis. I love you too.”

He scooped her up in his arms so he could hold her against his chest. His life was complete.

“Where are we going?”

He laughed. “To celebrate.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked, pointing at his laptop.

“It’ll get done, Anfisa. I want you to know that no matter what’s going on in my life, that when it comes down to it, you’re going to be my priority.”

That’s how Greyson was with Emma, and that was how he wanted to be.

She would be his queen.

They would have their world.

Nothing would stop him from loving the woman who saved his heart.

Nothing.

Curtis found love. He’d found his soulmate, other half, and the woman who was meant to be the mother of his children.

She wasn’t broken.

She was perfect.

And she was his.

“Let’s have some fun. Work can wait.”

She giggled as he carried her into their room to begin their life.

Together.

Chapter Eleven

Saturday Noon

Jesse Post

Interview

              Getting to the man was tricky. Jesse Post was on duty, and Greyson had to call in a few favors to have someone locate him. Having money had its benefits, and this was one of the biggest ones.

When he called, people answered. It wasn’t lost on him that this was what Randall Mason’s life had been like. The man he fought so hard not to be like was staring him right in the face.

Life was ironic.

There was nothing he could do about it now. Before, he stood on his pedestal, judging Randall. His nose was in the air, and he’d thought he was better than the man.

He’d been sterling.

Only, he’d proved that it wasn’t true.

There was good and bad in everyone, and he’d crossed that line. Now he was trying to do his penance the best he could. He didn’t want to die a sinner.

He knew he wouldn’t go out a saint.

There had to be a middle ground.

“There he is,” Emma said, pointing at the coffee shop. It was lunchtime and luckily for them, Jesse didn’t hit the normal cop spots.

He wouldn’t talk with them if they walked into a cop hangout. There was no way in hell. She wasn’t stupid. They were now the enemy.

Heading his way, people were staring.

When Jesse looked up, his hand automatically went to his belt. That made Greyson nervous. He recalled Paris’s assessment of the man and Jesse’s personnel report. He was a trigger-happy fool. He shot first and asked questions later, and that was never a good thing in a cop.

Ever.

Emma took a seat across from him. “Hey, Officer Post. It’s your lucky day.”

“What do you two want?”

Emma recalled seeing him around. She remembered seeing his face at the precinct, but never knew his name. He was just another face in the sea of cops.

“We have to talk to you.”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” he said. “And him? Yeah, he’s as crooked as a six dollar bill.”

Greyson laughed. He saw the man scribbling notes in the little note pad in front of him. Croft ran a couple casinos.

He knew those numbers.

Someone was a gambler.

“Well, you have two choices, Jesse. You tell my wife what she needs to know, or I’m going to talk to your bookie and make sure that whatever you owe him is due tomorrow morning.”

Emma smiled. “Can we just buy out his debt and ride his ass for the next week. I’ve always wanted to own a cop on the force, Grey. Please? My birthday is coming,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“It is, my love. It is.”

“Okay! Make it fast. My partner is coming in about fifteen minutes, and I can’t let him see me with you. I don’t need any more trouble.”

Greyson didn’t feel sorry for him. He likely saw the kind of trouble that gambling got you into in this town. There was a morgue full of bodies that were proof to that.

“Great. I love how cooperative you are. We’ll never forget how you helped us.”

He looked sick.

They were amused. It was sad and humorous at the same time. They didn’t know any bookies. They didn’t plan on buying cops, and they weren’t out to add to the rumors.

Still…

The man thought they were, and that was what gave them the advantage.

“What can you tell me about Seth Bell?” she asked.

“He’s scheduled to die next week.”

“And?”

“And what? I don’t know what you’re asking. He committed a crime, and he got caught—unlike some people.”

Greyson pulled out his phone and pretended to make a call. “Rocco, get me the name of Officer Jesse Post’s bookie. I’m buying his debt.”

Emma had to fight not to laugh.

They didn’t know a Rocco.

It appeared that it didn’t matter because the man in front of them was freaked out. His face was red, and there were beads of sweat on his upper lip.

“I’d talk fast. You don’t want to meet Rocco. He makes Greyson look like a small man.”

Jesse Post swallowed.

“Spill it.”

“All I know is the last few months of our partnership, he was getting weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“He kept babbling on about some dude named Adam. I think his last name was Price. I’m not sure. All I do know is the texts would come in, he’d be on the phone, and he was starting to lose his edge. I ended up shooting some guy that pulled a gun on him because he wasn’t focused.”

“Yeah, it’s on your record.”

“How the hell do you know what’s on my record?”

Greyson fielded this one. “Rocco.”

The man looked sick.

“That had to piss you off. I know my record was my pride and joy. It, to this day, is clean. Even though I’m no longer on the force, I still have that.”

Greyson knew Emma was trying to get him to show his true colors.

He was going to let her run with it. She was a good detective when she was at the LVPD, and she could handle a cop better than he could.

“Yeah, it was. I was pissed, but I got over it. At least neither of us died that night. That was the good part.”

“Did it piss you off when he hit on you?”

Jesse stared at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Emma laughed.

“Bullshit.”

“Okay! He hit on me. He actually grabbed my junk once, but he said it was an accident. We were eating in the cruiser, and a glob of ketchup was about to land on my pants. He caught it.”

Emma wasn’t so sure that wasn’t a grab after all. Seth seemed to have a dick affliction.

Then again, she got that. She had one too.

Sue her.

Greyson turned her on.

When she glanced over at him, he obviously knew what she was thinking. He was grinning wickedly.

He was incorrigible.

“Who interviewed you?” she asked.

“Detective Sawyer Laden and he was a total dickwad. He was rude, rushed through the interview, and didn’t care what I had to say.”

“Was his partner there?”

“No. It was just him.”

Well, neither Croft was shocked at that. Sawyer Laden was the poster child for bigot. If he knew Seth was gay, he’d immediately condemn him. He was horrible like that.

“Did you know that one victim, Norma Hatch, lived across the street from you?”

“Yeah, that was weird.”

“And one victim was found near where you and your partner were parked for the night.”

“Yeah, I don’t recall, but I guess it’s bizarre.”

Greyson made some confused sound. “You don’t recall that night?”

“Not really. We always parked by Mandalay Bay. That’s a good place to pull over DUI’s. They let out after the shows, and we’d hit our quota for the month in two days. It was the sweet spot.”

Emma knew where her husband was going with it. “You called off that night. Where were you?”

“What?”

“I said...”

“I heard you. I don’t recall.”

“Well, we have police records,” Greyson said, pulling them up on his phone. He rattled off his social security number.

“Yours?”

“Yeah, and that’s disturbing.”

Greyson shrugged. “Money talks. Rocco likes money so he’ll dig up anything.”

Greyson was going to start calling Curtis that just for shits and giggles as an inside joke for him and Emma.

“I guess if it says I called off, I called off. I don’t recall since the detective never asked.”

Yeah, more surprise.

There was shitty detective work from Sawyer Laden. He couldn’t find his ass if someone handed it to him. It was probably why his killer didn’t have a hard time taking him out, right in his own home.

Dumbass.

“The third victim, Glenda Mateo was arrested by Seth. Were you there?”

“I don’t recall. We arrested a lot of hookers. Hell! This city is full of them. There are five across the street trying to get the matinee started early,” he said, pointing their way to prove his point.

The man didn’t seem to get what they were saying. Jesse had potential contact with three victims. He was in the same proximity as Seth.

“If it matters, despite how the bosses believe he’s guilty, I hope you get him off. Seth was a good guy.”

“Did you know his partner lied for him?”

“I didn’t.”

“No his partner-partner—as in sexual one.”

“Ohhh. Yeah, I had no idea. I’ve never met the man. Sorry. I can’t help you there. All I know is he talked about him all the time. Again…distracted.”

They didn’t have much more to ask.

“My gut says it’s not him, and I hope you find the killer. If he did kill those women, I’m a shitty cop. I never saw it coming.”

Yeah, Emma wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wasn’t a shitty cop to begin with.

That was debatable.

As of late, Vegas was filled with them.

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

Saturday Afternoon

LVPD

Chris Ford wasn’t the least bit nervous. In fact, he was glad it was time to finish this. All morning, as he rested on his couch, staring at his and Emma’s picture, it felt right.

This was the way to go.

His gut was telling him to do it up right.

As he waited for the commissioner to call him into his office, the secretary was being nice to him.

It was the first time ever.

Seriously?

On the day he was going to blow the place up with his plan to save the Crofts, they finally decide to notice he was even there?

This was proof of his shitastic luck.

Normally, if he was with Greyson or Emma, when they were the law, he was invisible. Now, the woman was offering him coffee and cookies.

He took the latter to calm his nerves.

Besides, he couldn’t pass up cookies, and Emma wasn’t there to steal any for him.

When the door to the commissioner’s office opened, he was ready to do what had to be done.

“Are you here to give me good news? Tell me that she called you or came back in and you finally got what I needed.”

Well, yeah, for him it was good.

For the man’s plan…not so much.

He knew he was going to have to lie. Emma wouldn’t even look at him now, let alone come back in and see him. Chris prayed the man didn’t figure it out—or that his spies didn’t report in that she’d not been around.

Shit!

This was tricky.

When the commissioner turned his back, Chris flicked on the recorder with his thumbnail. It was on his lapel, and hopefully, the technology didn’t fail.

Cop gear was shit.

He needed it to hold out or what he was about to do was going to bite him in the ass. If he didn’t get this recorded, when he showed up at Emma’s home, she’d never believe him.

This was his only proof.

It was the core of his plan.

“Well, if you’re asking if I tricked Emma into confessing that her husband and Dimitri Gideon were guilty of killing Dominic Marianna and Mace Bristol, no, I didn’t.”

The man didn’t look happy.

“Yeah, she came back in, and I recorder her—like you asked—but she was honest with me. They didn’t do it. She would have told me. We’re close.”

Chris prayed he bought it.

He needed him to talk candidly.

The man growled and then kicked his desk.

“They had to have something to do with it. There is no way that Greyson Croft allowed the gay ME to be hurt and not retaliate. He’s not that kind of man. He would have been out for blood.”

Chris was aware, but he’d take anything he suspected to his grave.

Greyson was his friend.

He was his family.

“Sorry, sir, but they didn’t. You do realize that in this city, there are more people who could have done it. Dominic Marianna was an asshole. Maybe Kenneth James, the attorney who was stealing his money, did it. He did hire hit men to kill Greyson. He also was murdered on day two in prison. Someone had to call out that hit on him.”

Commissioner Raye didn’t want to hear it. Greyson Croft and his Russian friend were in cahoots. He’d bet his job on it. If Croft thought he was going to be the law in Vegas—the dirty mob justice—he was in for a rude awakening.