True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3)) (64 page)

Sheila took a small step backwards, but still held her ground. “You think I’m afraid of a pregnant woman?”

“You think me being pregnant is going to stop me from handing you an ass kicking like none you’ve seen before? I beat the hell out of my own half-brother and put him in a coma. I killed my husband’s half-brother for trying to hurt him. Do you really think I wouldn’t think of twisting your head right off your fucking shoulders for insulting my husband? You a complete stranger?” she drawled.

“You can’t touch me. I’ll press charges,” she leered.

“Elizabeth, I just witnessed her striking you, a pregnant woman,” said Desdemona. “Now I believe you can kick her ass. See how easy that was?” She’d never heard her new friend break out the southern accent; it was one she had much of her life growing up, and it entertained her, as did the idea of her beating this woman into a pile on the floor.

Elizabeth stepped one more step closer, and now the woman looked scared. “I so much as see you breathe around Ethan; I will drag you outside by your bleached blonde hair, and show you how we southern girls hand out justice for our men.
I will bang that empty head of yours against the biggest rock I can find. Am I clear?”

Sheila had the common sense to escape the stairwell.

“Thank you, Desdemona,” she said, slipping back into her coat, and grinning over at her friend.

She offered her a fist bump, in solidarity. “All about the girlfriend code from one southern girl to another.
Nice accent, Elizabeth.” Desdemona tried to comfort her friend, despite the feelings raging deep within her own gut.

“Thanks Doc. I like to save it for the right times,” she said, grinning.
“Let’s get the team through this,” she said, hoping Sheila Court would test her patience just so she could beat her ass down.

~ Chapter Seventeen ~

Saturday pre-dawn

Blackhawk believed he worked best in chaos, only because he lived the FBI for so many years, it was second nature. Once you handed your soul over to them, you’d bleed for them too. What he thought he could handle, he found himself losing complete control over. Once he entered the makeshift morgue, there were techs falling apart, scared and looking for their boss to lead them and tell them that it was going to be okay.

Once he entered the room, there were shouted questions, tears and absolute chaos, as his staff asked if they’d be bringing Derek Williams home.

When his wife had been abducted, this was most of the team that worked incredibly hard for twelve hours scouring a scene looking for anything to tie find the killer and bring her home. Now they were looking towards him to save one of their own, and he didn’t even know where to begin, all because he believed it was his fault.
Self-blame overshadowed his ability to think clearly.

Then the woman he married strod
e into the lab and took control. He felt a mix of relief and angst. Right now he didn’t know how to do it the right way, and to give Derek Williams justice. Leaning on his wife was his best shot of not losing it right then and there.

Elizabeth knew he was too emotionally close to the fire on this one, and she had to step up and be the other half of the boss team. Whistling
, the entire room fell into complete silence. They were accustomed to her whistling and then issuing a demand. What they needed now was continuity and the ability to feel useful.

“Christina, I need a full detailed report of what went out on that tech van. I want to know the exa
ct second it left this building, and who saw it leave. I want the report in one hour. Am I clear?”

Christina snapped to attention, and knew her boss meant business. “On it, Elizabeth.”
Off she scurried.

“You,” she pointed at three techs. “We dropped off evidence of possible suspects yesterday. Did it go on that van?”

“No ma’am,” the one answered.

“Then you, you and you get yourselves busy. I want it processed and I want it relayed to FBI West. If one of those people took our tech, we need to find out, lock it down and do our damn job.”

They nodded. “Yes ma’am!”

Before Elizabeth could continue, there was a knock on the door.

“Agents?”

It was the sheriff.

Hell, Elizabeth hoped it wasn’t going to be about Sheila Court or she would kick the woman’s ass. Elizabeth strode over, her husband right behind.

“Julian Littlemoon just took the call. We found your tech, and he’s dead,” he
said, keeping his voice low.

“Where,” asked Blackhawk, the anger rising in him.

“Dumpster at ‘Cup of Joe,” he answered, softly.

“We’re heading out. Have your deputy keep the scene contained,” said Elizabeth. Her husband was silent, and that usually meant he was going to blow big time.

“Callen, help Doc grab her gear and get the keys for a tech van.” She didn’t have to tell them anything. Elizabeth looked back over at the techs and their faces said it all. When the ME had to get her kit, it meant one thing. Derek Williams wasn’t coming home alive.

As the team started to move, Blackhawk shook his head. “No. I don’t want any of you to have to do this.” There was no way he could subject his team to retrieval of their friend and a sweep of evidence
ten feet away. “We’ve got this,” he stated, and then he walked out of the room. “I’ll be down in the Denali.”

Callen took the kit from Desdemona, and then caught keys from one of the techs. They were going to bring home their team member.

“Team stays in-house until we get back or I call, am I clear?” she said, and everyone nodded, and there were tears and there were looks of anger. But right now all that mattered was getting to Derek and giving him dignity. Before she walked out the door she turned to face them. “Derek’s ours now. I’ll get him justice, I promise,” she said, looking into their faces, the faces of the people that had hope she’d return when she was lost. The belief she found there propelled her forward. Now she just needed to keep her husband from losing it.

Blackhawk drove to the scene, the feeling of dread and horror overwhelming him. Here was going to be the man that he sent to his death. It was his job to keep them all safe, and here he knowingly sent a man out alone.
Gabe should have warned him how crappy this job could be at times. If he could take it back, he would. He wished he could rewind the last twelve hours and give the man back his life.

“I can do this alone, Ethan,” his wife said
, softly. Elizabeth knew how hard this was going to be for him. “This isn't your fault,” she added. It was the famous Blackhawk guilt and it now had full control of the man beside her.

“I sent him alone at night.”

Blackhawk parked the Denali, and looked over at his wife and his eyes were filled with fury and pain.

“We can do this together.” Elizabeth took his hand in hers, and looked into his eyes. “We are unbreakable as a team.”

He nodded the fury still beating at his heart. “Let’s go get Derek.”

Elizabeth hopped out of the vehicle as the
tech van pulled up, and the other two members of their team exited into the cold. “Doc, you ready?” she said, knowing this man was possibly her friend too. If she could she’d spare her too.

“I want to see him before we move him, and we need to get pictures first. I prefer to not get body temp out in the elements. It’s freezing out
here; there won’t be an accurate reading.” Her real reason was that she didn’t want to probe him while Ethan Blackhawk was there. She could tell he was struggling with it. “I simply want to see in situ and then bag him up for transport.”

“Got it,” said Elizabeth.

“We have a timeline of his last moments. That’ll be good enough,” she said, softly to just Elizabeth.

They all headed for the back of the building. Julian Littlemoon was standing guard
at the dumpster.

As they approached he had gloves on and he lifted the lid, nothing but sympathy in his eyes. “Is this the entire team?” he asked.

“I don’t want my people to have to pull his body out of here. He mattered and had friends in the lab,” said Blackhawk, looking over the side at his dead tech. He didn’t go peacefully into death. It looked like dried blood on the side of his head. At least he still had his eyes, and his face.

Callen began snapping pictures.

“Director Blackhawk, what can I do to help you?” Littlemoon asked, watching both women climb into the dumpster.

“Can you track the movements of my tech?”

“I can try, what time did he leave your location?” he asked, pulling out a pen and paper. “Do you want me to find the van?”

“Yes, but don’t approach it. Once you
locate it, call me.”

Julian Littlemoon respected the Native man before him. It took a lot to make something of yourself when you came from a
Rez. This man remade himself, and you could tell he didn’t stomp on people in the process. He had a good aura. “I’ll be in contact,” he said, slipping off into the night.

“Doctor Adare, are you finished with the photos?” asked Blackhawk. “I want to get him out of there as soon as possible.” The sight of his tech laying in the trash like he was discarded like garbage pissed him off. He deserved a better end than this, and he’d give him the dignity the killer took away.

“Yes, Director. We can move him.”

Elizabeth hopped out and rolled out the black bag, and unzipped it. Her brother-in-law took her place in the dumpster, and helped the doctor move him, careful to not disturb anything that might be evidence. They lowered him into the bag and zipped him up.

“What did the killer take?” he asked, almost afraid to ask.

“I didn’t look under his clothing, Director. I’ll look when we get him back to the station
. I don’t want to disturb any trace before I collect it.” Desdemona looked up at Whitefox. “Can you back the tech van around for transport? I don’t want to carry him around the front. He isn't a spectacle to be gawked at.”

“Can do,” he said, jogging off.

“Load him and then let’s just check the area. See if we can find anything. I want to talk to the person that found the body,” Blackhawk said. “Then when we make sure it’s clear, I’ll have the team come in for trace. I don’t want them in the room while you’re doing the autopsy.”

Whitefox returned with the van, and hopped out, opening the back.

“The autopsy is going to be closed. In fact, I’m the only one that’s going to be in the room.” There was one only one reason for that, and it was the man in front of her. She had no doubt the other two agents would survive it, but Ethan looked to be a man on the edge.

“I will be in there Doctor. He was my responsibility, and I’m seeing this out until the end,” he said, heatedly. That man was his fault and if he couldn’t stand over his body and swallow it, he didn’t deserve to be
in charge.

“Director, with all due respect, because you are my boss,” she paused. “You aren’t going to be in there because it will be a distraction to me too. He was my co-worker
, and I worked in the lab with him daily. I need to do this alone, and I need you to let me have my final moments with him. He comes first now, and my ability to do my job. That won’t be doing Derek any justice if I rush and miss anything. Once I’m done, you can finish what needs to be completed.”

Blackhawk stared down at her
debating whether to pull rank and insist, but at the last moment he just nodded. “I’m going to talk to the person that called it in.” With that, he turned and headed to the
‘Cup of Joe’
.

The three remaining let out a breath collectively.

“Callen, call the team in once you load up Derek. We need the entire area swept, and I need a rush on every single test that can possibly be done. If we have to transport the samples to FBI West, we’ll get them there, or get a courier to drive them. I’ll sign off on all expenses on this one.”

“Elizabeth, I can tell by the lack of blood
loss, he was likely dead before the killer took what she took, or he’d be covered in blood.”

“You did look then?” asked
Elizabeth, looking over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear.

Desdemona dropped her voice. “
Derek had a full removal of genitalia.”