Callen didn’t doubt it. Soon, Ethan was going to be giving her Kevlar for holiday gifts.
Chris loved busting her ass—since she was in a good mood about it. “You’re close, but I do believe it involved spanking and handcuffs when he said it.”
She lifted a brow. “It did not. Wrong brother.”
“HEY! I was being good,” Callen stated.
She snorted. “Yeah, you were. Let’s get dressed. Chris, you have ten minutes, and then I’m going to ask all kinds of questions. Be prepared.”
He pulled out his liver gauge and got down to work.
He figured as much.
It was just another day in the FBI.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
He knew the lay of the land better than anyone else. He was so familiar, he could stand there without anyone really noticing him.
That made it perfect.
As he hid nearby, he was able to see the police standing guard, the Feds leaving, but no Elizabeth.
Not yet.
He was anxious to see her reaction to the prize he’d left for her. It was like opening night in an art gallery. His beautiful masterpiece was on display.
Would she be shocked?
Stunned?
Bothered?
Angry?
He couldn’t wait to find out. From studying her, and the way she did her job, he knew it would be one of those three options.
If anything, she was predictable.
Oh, and he couldn’t wait to see if she liked his gift. It was the first of many marionettes.
With his career change, he was ‘The Puppet Master’, and he had to keep doing what he did best.
It was all about finding the best specimens to complete his art.
They were his raw material, and a commodity.
And he was their destiny.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Boston PD
Interrogation
Room Three
To say that he was irritated would be an understatement. When Ivan agreed to go with them to the police station, it was only because he figured Elizabeth would be going too. There, she would be safely behind walls where a killer couldn’t get to her. His whole willingness had been out of her safety.
Well, he’d been wrong.
That was NOT what happened at all, and he was anxious to find her again. From the cops in the room, he’d learned he’d been shafted.
She was still at the bed and breakfast, and Rory, Callen’s security, was the only one holding down protection duty.
Two people and one guard…it didn’t sit well with him—especially since he knew Elizabeth.
At any moment, someone could be taking a shot at her. Until Ethan arrived with his team in tow, Ivan was really uncomfortable with not having her in his sights.
She tended to get into trouble.
Here was his proof. He’d been sitting outside the bed and breakfast minding his own business all night, and now he was being accused of murder.
Shit!
Right now, he was trying to troubleshoot any possible issues while handcuffed.
Most importantly?
He was trying to get them to give him his phone.
If they did, he’d call Ethan Blackhawk to get him the hell out of there.
Ethan’s wife was clearly in danger, and he wasn’t able to do his damn job.
“Are you arresting me?” he asked, having about enough of this farce. He had a job to do.
“Maybe.”
“Well, then for what?” Ivan asked. “I do believe you have to tell me or let me go. Those are my rights.”
The cop didn’t even blink.
Tom Nealson, when he’d arrived, had some serious anger issues.
It was clear.
“How did that body get there, Mr. Bennet? You’re Elizabeth Blackhawk’s security, and yet, you didn’t see a man walk a body past you and into the building?”
“No one did!”
They looked unimpressed.
They kept looking at him like he was lying—only he wasn’t. He was pretty damn sure that he’d stop anyone carrying a gun, let alone a body.
“Listen, I cooperated. I gave you the security footage, I came down here, and now I’m leaving. If you have nothing to hold me on, then I’m out of here.”
He stood.
The cop shoved him back into his seat.
In that moment, Ivan knew the shit was getting real. There was no doubt in his mind why they were targeting him.
Ex-soldier.
Guard duty.
They likely thought he was a walking case of PTSD.
Only, that wasn’t true.
“You could have doctored that footage. Plus, you were a soldier. Did you learn how to be sick and twisted while you were in the corps?” he asked.
And there it was.
They weren’t actually working the case, but searching for an easy solution.
Yeah, and pinning it on him was the easiest way out of that mess for them.
He had a better idea.
If they wanted crazy, he’d give him crazy. Oh, it was on. He’d bring so much attention to that room that they’d have no choice but to set him loose.
“What’s your name?” Ivan asked.
“Why?” the detective asked. “So you can file a report with my boss?” he mocked. “I’m not afraid of the woman you answer to, so that’s a waste of time.”
Little did he know that Ivan didn’t answer to her. He answered to Ethan Blackhawk, and the man was NOT going to be happy that his wife was NOT being protected.
“Well?” Tom asked.
“No, so I can find where you live.”
“To kill me?” he asked, grinning.
He clearly thought he was on his way to getting the man to say something illegal.
Yeah, he was a Marine. He knew how to piss a man off, so he did it.
“Nah, so I can fuck your wife and show her what a real man is like.”
Was it wrong?
Yes.
And the detective thought so too.
When he jumped on him and began pounding his body with his fists, Ivan took that as his first sign.
It took everything Ivan had not to fight back—but to take the punches. If this was going to work, and he was going to get his ass out of there, he couldn’t raise a hand.
They were being recorded.
As the detective’s partner pulled him off of him, he spit blood onto the shiny floor.
Yeah, that sucked, and for so many reasons. He really wanted to hurt the asshole.
“You think you’re funny?”
“For that, I’ll do her twice and without protection. Momma wants a real man’s baby.”
The detective jumped him again.
As he was taking a few gut punches, the door flew open, and both men went for their guns.
The woman who walked in didn’t seem the least bit worried either.
That seemed to startle the cops.
Not him.
Ivan knew who she was, simply because he saw her working Elizabeth’s last case.
“You had better have good reason for kicking the shit out of him!” Blue said, pulling her badge. “Get the hell out of here before I send for Elizabeth Blackhawk. She’ll have the deputy director here so fast your head will spin!”
“I don’t think…”
She stopped him.
“Yeah, and that’s the issue. Try using that brain of yours. You’re holding a man without enough evidence, keeping him from leaving, and now you’ve assaulted him. Someone wants to go to jail,” she said. “He’s technically a federal employee. He’s private security for the Blackhawks!”
Detective Nealson knew when to back off.
“We’ll be watching you,” he warned.
“And terroristic threats now too. Are you this stupid on a normal basis?”
“I think it was when I told him I was going to orally gratify his wife.”
“Oh, wait,” he said, holding out his hands. “Anyone want to unlock these cuffs?” he asked, grinning at Detective Nealson.
He wanted him to do it.
It had to be eating away at the man.
Good.
The detective unlocked the cuffs and tucked them into his pocket.
“Mind your manners.”
“My momma taught me not to be an asshole. You may need a refresher,” Ivan said, wiping his bloody mouth on his arm.
That got no response.
The two cops walked out, slamming the door behind them in anger.
He didn’t give a shit.
Ivan was guilty of a lot, but not killing innocent women.
“Hey,” Blue said, heading toward him.
“Hey,” he replied, a little shocked that this was who was going to save him.
A special agent.
Yeah, a really special one.
Ivan realized one thing about the woman before him—more than that, she had balls of steel.
This agent had really pretty eyes. They were a unique shade of blue—almost like the color of tropical water.
He wanted to go for a swim.
“Are you okay?” she asked, moving toward him to check him out.
“Yeah, but we have to get out of here. I don’t like that Elizabeth is wandering the city without someone watching her back.”
Blue dug in her bag for a pack of tissues.
“She’s at the bed and breakfast. She’s not leaving until we get back. You can relax,” she offered. “I think she knows that leaving would make you insane and make the deputy director flip out.”
She had a point.
While she’d ride his ass and make him work for it, she wouldn’t ride Ethan Blackhawk’s.
Besides, Callen was there.
Gently, Blue blotted his mouth. It was cut at the corner from his tooth, or maybe someone’s ring.
“Thanks,” he said, letting her take care of him.
“I’m Blue Garrick,” she said, finally introducing herself. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.”
No.
No, they had not.
Ivan stared up into her eyes. His deep brown met her pretty blue ones. In that second, it made it hard for Ivan to speak.
Still, he managed.
“Like the color or the cheese,” he asked.
Shit!
That was likely the lamest thing he’d ever said. What the hell was wrong with him?
Blue couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“The color. My father wanted to name me Azul. My mother told him she’d compromise. They went with the English word instead. When I was born, I had the same blue eyes. That’s what everyone notices first.”
Well, it was hard not to. They were really pretty and striking beneath that rich red hair.
Ivan could feel his body reacting to the gorgeous woman. It was hard to control it. He was running on adrenaline.
Instead, he focused on anything else. He let her take care of his face, and she had him stand.
“I’m going to check your body for anything serious.”
He stared down at her.
“What?”
“Your ribs. I’m going to run my hands over them to see if anything is broken.”
Oh, he knew what wasn’t broken.
His dick.
If she wandered too far south, she was in for a surprise. Ivan wasn’t sure if he was hoping she didn’t or did.
It was a tossup.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
“Uh, you’re an agent.”
Blue wasn’t shocked. “In a previous life, I had a lot of first aid training.”
Okay, it wasn’t a lie.
First aid, doctor, doctor, first aid.
Her hand moved over his ribs, and he let her touch him. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world to have a pretty girl feeling him up.
It beat being shot.
As her hands moved beneath his shirt, he watched her. She looked focused and like she was on a mission.
It made him harder.
“Find anything good?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“You’re good. Nothing is broken.”
Ivan couldn’t believe he was having a reaction to her. He’d seen her before because it was his job to see her. Only close up, he was drawn to her.
“You’re gentle.”
She smiled. “I told you—first aid. I know how to touch someone. I have lots of practice.”
He lifted a brow in amusement at what she’d said. A million things went through his mind and not a single one was puritanical.
“What?” she asked.
He laughed.
She didn’t get it.
“That just struck me as funny,” he stated. “You know. You know how to touch someone.”
She stared at him, the lines between her eyes forming.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, surprised by that.
“No. I don’t. I’m bad with things like this,” she admitted. “If I said something wrong, let me know so I can correct and modify.”
For some reason, he found that…endearing.
His mind often went right to the gutter, but hers…she was wholesome. That was surprising on so many levels.
Anymore, wholesome was a thing of the past. Women in this day and age played fast and loose with morals, and it was…unattractive.
“No, you didn’t say anything wrong. I’m just punchy from being punched on,” he admitted.
She grabbed her bag.
“We should head back,” she offered. “I came with the detective, but he has to stay and brief his boss. Will you give me a ride?” she asked.
He stared at her, waiting for her to laugh, say something, or acknowledge that she was thinking about him giving her a ride in his lap.
Nada.
It went right over Blue’s head.
“Yeah, we should get back.”
Plus, it was getting hot in that room. His blood pressure wasn’t the only thing that was up.
He was suddenly feeling warm.
It had to be the room.
That was all he could come up with in the moment.
It couldn’t possibly be more. Ivan Bennet didn’t fall for women anymore. He’d learned that lesson a long time ago.
Getting hurt sucked.
Chapter Three
Bed and Breakfast
Sunday
Mid-Morning
T here was something about getting into her boots that always made Elizabeth feel so much better. The second she was in them the world was a safer place. Elizabeth was in control, and she could face down the bad guys.
That was her blanket.
Some people had stuffed animals or lucky charms, but not her. She had her boots. They had a lot of miles on them, and that was fine by her.
They were who she was inside and out.
She was dusty.
Broken in.
And badass.
They were a metaphor for her life, and she was proud of them. They may look old and beat-up, but they were weathered, and that’s what made them perfect.
With age came wisdom, and her boots were no different. Now she was going to use them to get her into the right frame of mind to figure out who had killed those women.
Yeah, and left them for her.
The other thing that made her happy was getting her sidearm back.
Truthfully, she felt naked without it, and now she was the same old Elizabeth Blackhawk who chased crazies.
When in Rome…
As she and Callen finished dressing, they headed out to the scene of the crime—the couch. Chris was just bagging up the victim, and he was having a hell of a time getting her chaotic motions under control.
The normal dead were transported so much easier than this woman. She was moving as they tried to get her into the black bag. Elizabeth was betting he wa
s wishing for rigor at that moment.
Still, it would have been funny to watch had it not been sick, twisted, and all kinds of wrong.
When he finally got her into the bag, Chris zipped it up.
“What can you tell me?” she asked.
“That disarticulated and then rewired bodies are a bitch to deal with and I hope to never see another one again.”
From his mouth to the higher power’s ears.
“I meant more forensically. That was pretty obvious as we watched you. I wanted to take pictures, but that seemed so classless on the family Christmas card.”
He snorted.
“I did her liver probe, and the torso victim still had some warmth. She was still above room temperature.”
“TOD?”
He laughed. “Yeah, sorry. You’re going to need to have Christina run some tissue to see rate of decomp. There’s no way I’m blurting that out.”
“If you had to guess.”
He stared at her.
“Doc?”
“Boss?”
“Doc?”
“Boss?”
“We can do this all day, or you can just tell me what I want to know, and I’ll be out of your damn hair.”
He crossed his arms.
She mimicked him.
“Why do I even like you?” he asked. “You are a total bitch, and you make me nuts.”
“Yeah, you have me worried with that look—like a fat hooker shaking in the cold.”
He stared at her. “You’re insane.”
“So why not buy me a card and make it official? Tell me your best guess on TOD. We’ve been doing this dance for over a decade, Chris. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.”
“You are doing the same thing…”
“We all know I’m bat shit insane. Right now, I’m talking about you.”
He laughed.
“I’m going to say it is less than twenty-four hours on her, and I stand with what Blue said for the head victim.”
That’s all she wanted to know.
“Okay, load her up, Doc. We’re taking a little trip.”
“Do you want me to leave some techs here?”
“Yeah, have them start outside and move in here. I know it’s going to suck. This is a bed and breakfast. This is going to be a hotspot for fingerprints, hair, and semen samples.”
Discarded by Fate Page 12