True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3)) (74 page)

BOOK: True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3))
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The men stood over the dead mountain lion that was less than ten feet from where Littlemoon had been standing. The kill shot was to the head, and direct center of her forehead.

“And that’s why she has the tactical gun,” answered Blackhawk, looking over at his brother and grinning. She was excellent at marksmanship, and really it wasn’t a practiced skill. Some people just were really good at it.

Then came his wife’s voice, across the snow, directed at the deputy and not on the ear piece. “That’s why I don’t wear a glove when I’m on the tactical gun, Chief Kis
s My Ass. Had I been wearing my glove, you’d been that mountain lion’s bitch.” Elizabeth went back to scanning the area.

Blackhawk laughed, and patted the deputy on the back as he headed back to the
van. Once to the back of the van, both men each took a door, and prepared to open it. He signaled his brother, telling him what he needed him to do.

Whitefox’s heart was still pounding from the gun shot. He nodded and signaled he was ready. They both flung the doors
open, and peered inside, guns drawn and waiting for someone to jump out at them.

Both men let out a breath.

“Is it clear?” Came the voice over the ear piece.

“Clear,” said Blackhawk. “You can come back here now. If there was someone waiting for us, one of us would have been targeted already, especially after the gun shot.”

Elizabeth trotted past the deputy, and to the tree line and her family. When she arrived at the back of the truck she looked inside.

“Looks all accounted for,” said Whitefox.

Elizabeth stared in and then shook her head, checking again. “Uh, Ethan?”

“Yeah baby?” he said, walking around to the back of the truck. The front was clear, and he didn’t want to enter the vehicle, until it was swept.

“We have a big problem,” she said, drawing her gun back up and training it on the back of the van.

Both men pulled their guns, but saw nothing. “What’s wrong?” asked her husband, worried.

“Six bodies in bags went out on transport according to Christina’s log.”

“Yeah,” he
answered, lowering his gun and looking over at his wife. Her brow was all scrunched up with a genuine look of confusion.

“We have seven body bags.
Someone left us a spare.”
 

Shit!

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

~ Chapter
Twenty ~

Sunday Afternoon

 

 

 

 

Ethan Blackhawk made the executive decision to not access the bag. If the killer had indeed put someone in it, there may be trace to find and that could net them the maniac. The main goal was to transport the van back to the Sheriff’s station and have the teams unpack it, redo the trace, and sweep the vehicle. Fortunately, it was winter and the bodies were staying cold out in the snow. Nothing would have degraded and made it a worse mess to deal with.

Blackhawk noted the time, as the tow truck pulled up and Randy Duffy hopped out of the vehicle. He was there incredibly fast. He came over to them, standing beside the van and shook his head.

“Wow, how’d it get stuck in there like that?” he asked.

“We think the killer put it there,” said Blackhawk. “More importantly, can you unstick it and get it back down to town and the sheriff station for us?”

“If the FBI is paying, I’m trying,” he said, grinning the good ole boy grin.

Blackhawk nodded and went to stand out of the way with his wife, brother and Julian Littlemoon.

“Sure we shouldn’t look in the bag first?” asked Whitefox. “I don’t want Desdemona getting any nasty surprises.”

“There might be trace all over that bag and whoever is inside it. I don’t want to go digging around in that van without gloves on, and I’d have to move the bodies to get to the field kits to glove up.”

Elizabeth linked her arm through her brother-in-laws. “Don’t worry, Callen. We’ll be there with our guns when the van arrives back down off the mountain. We’ll keep Desdemona safe.”

The man nodded.

“Julian, can you ride down in the tow truck with Randy?” requested Ethan Blackhawk. He didn’t want the driver to be ambushed, and that meant sending him out with an armed guard. “Just until you get down to the vehicles, and then follow him back to the station. I’ll call ahead and have the tech teams wait until we arrive.”

“Sure thing,” he answered, nodding at them and walking away.

Elizabeth watched him walk away and didn’t say a word, but her face must have said it all. Both men started laughing.

“Still pissed at him?” asked her husband.

“No, but I was thinking about letting the big kitty lick him a few times before I shot it, just to prove a point.”

Whitefox laughed. “Remind me to not piss you off, Tex.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Damn, I miss my cowboy hat. I can’t wait until spring. All this cold and snow isn't my thing.”

The three of them started the hike down off the mountain, and each one of them was a little bit curious as to who they were going to find in that bag when they got back to the station.

At the end of the excursion out, Blackhawk called back to base, warning them that Randy Duffy was in transport with the van and no one was to access it until they arrived. Next he called Desdemona Adare and gave her the same warning and instructions until they arrived.

They were closing in on the killer, he could just feel it.

 

 

 

Desdemona Adare watched as the van was backed into the garage of the sheriff’s station and was ready with the chain. Ethan Blackhawk wanted the back doors chained shut from the outside, to prevent anything getting out, or anyone getting in to the evidence. Randy Duffy lowered it beside the second van that they were getting ready for transport. Within the next few hours, the body of their fallen team member was going to be driven back to FBI West personally by their boss. As she chained the door through the handles, Randy just watched her.

“Seems a bit extreme,” he said, leaning against the van.

“The boss’s orders. I’m just the
ME, and who am I to question them?” she said, smiling.

“So how does someone become a Medical Examiner?” he asked, offering some coffee from his thermos.
“Are you a real doctor?”

Desdemona declined. “I went to medical school, just like any other doctor. I just specialized in pathology, and finding how someone dies. I don’t save them, I just give them dignity in the end.”

The man nodded. “If you don’t mind, Doc, I’ll just hang out here and wait for the boss man to return. I’ll need him to sign the paperwork.” 

“Sure thing,” she answered, looking up at Julian Littlemoon strolling into the garage. “Deputy, where’s everyone else?” Desdemona wouldn’t relax until she could see her fiancé back where he was completely safe. The entire time he was gone, she was a wreck, and it made her nervous. How was she going to feel when he was out in the field alone, and she was back in house? This was something they were going to have to sit down and discuss before they got married. Yes, she knew he was an FBI agent, but she wanted to know more about what his job as Liaison to the Native community was going to entail. This love thing tied a person up in knots.

“They should be here shortly, Doctor. I’ll wait here with you,” he said, watching Randy Duffy with unblinking eyes. He was very aware the man was staring at the doctor like she was a tasty snack and that bothered him. The woman before him, although not a Native was taken by one of his brothers and that had meaning. Unspoken law between warriors meant he’d watch out for her, even if he wasn’t asked to by Whitefox.  

It didn’t take long for the Denali to pull into the parking lot outside the garage. All three FBI agents hopped out, and entered where their tech van was being housed. “Doctor Adare,” nodded Blackhawk. He looked over at the tow truck driver. “Need my signature?” he asked. They weren’t going to open the back of that van with a civilian standing around. Just in case the killer was in that seventh bag
, hiding and waiting to ambush them. Part of him hoped it was the killer, and she managed to self-terminate in the bag and save them all the trouble of continuing to look for her.

“Yeah, thanks.” He led them over to his truck, and when he opened his truck door a bottle of hydraulic fluid fell out.

Blackhawk caught it, and righted it before it hit the floor.

“Thanks, I have a leak in my line, have to carry extra everywhere,” he said, and handed him the clip board, and after he signed and handed it back, he nodded and bid them goodbye. “See ya’ll later,” he said, winking at the doctor.

Callen didn’t miss the wink, and it pissed him off. He looked down and saw Elizabeth’s hand on his arm to calm him. Soothingly she rubbed her hand back and forth. She obviously didn’t miss it either and knew the man was going to be asking for trouble.

When he pulled his tow truck out of the garage, there was a puddle of fluid on the floor. “He wasn’t kidding, that’s a big leak,” said Julian Littlemoon.

Blackhawk avoided the puddle and pulled the bay doors shut for the garage. If they were going to open the van and pull out the bags, he wanted privacy, and no way for anyone hiding in there to escape.

Elizabeth grabbed a pair of gloves that Desdemona had in her pocket. “I’ll go in,” she said, waiting for the doctor to unlock the padlock. “Cover me,” she said to her husband and brother. As the chain was pulled slowly from the door, she jumped up into the back. “They’re all tagged except the top one,” she said, reaching for the zipper on the top bag. Even though the bodies were in a van in the freezing cold, she could still smell death.

“Mask?” she asked, and Desdemona pulled one out of her lab coat pocket.

“Bad?” asked her husband.

“Yeah, this isn't a fresh body,” she answered, putting the mask over her mouth and nose. The last thing she wanted was to breathe in the bacteria when she opened the bag. “Ready?” she asked, as Callen Whitefox and her husband pulled their guns and pointed them at the bag.

“Ready
!” They answered.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, and pulled the zipper. Open enough to look down into the bag. She zipped it back up and stood, her stomach rolling sickly. She’d seen a lot of death in her time with the FBI, but this, this was the worst.

“You can holster. What’s in there isn't going anywhere.” Elizabeth Blackhawk wanted to vomit, and that meant it was bad. She never puked on a scene, ever.

“What do we have?” asked Blackhawk.

“I think we can end the mystery of what the killer is doing with the body parts,” she said, pulling off her mask and taking in some air to clear her head. She braced her hands on her knees and leaned over shaking her head. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy, the body, or the dead eyes that once belonged in someone else’s skull.

“It has to be bad,
because you look green,” said Blackhawk. “You don’t ever flinch.”

“Our killer is putting a body back together, one part at a time,” she said shuddering.

“Huh?” asked Whitefox.

“We just uncovered Franken-victim.”

 

 

 

 

Desdemona stood in her makeshift morgue and was suited up in a protective suit, and ready to open the bag holding the body parts of the other victims. Elizabeth had told her what she saw, and she knew it was going to be particularly gruesome. Right now, the body bag sat on her table, and her tools were close by. At that moment, the tech team was removing any trace from the outside of the bag, before the work on the inside began.

Ethan motioned for Doctor Adare to step off to the side
. He needed to speak to her privately. The whole team practically huddled, as he spoke in hushed whispers.

“I need a favor, Desdemona,” he said, looking down at the woman.

She knew it was going to be big; he used her name in the workplace. This was going to be a personal favor and she couldn’t imagine what he’d want. “If I can do it, I will.”

“I’m leaving to transport Derek in a little while. If his missing body parts are in that bag, I’d like to take them with me, and return all of him to his family.”

Everyone could hear the emotion in his voice. He was still hurting over letting one of his own go down on his watch.

“I know that it’s not procedure, and I know that it’s not the norm, but I want him to go home for burial in one piece. I can make it a direct order if that makes it easier for you to make the decision.”

Desdemona considered the request. Breaking protocol had repercussions. In court and also in life, wasn’t that her major rule. Follow the rules no matter what?

“I’ll work on his
organs first, package them up and have the tech team put them in his body bag,” she said, softly. “As for making it a direct order, that’s not needed.”

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