Discarded by Fate

by Morgan Kelley

  Well, this was a mess.

  Ivan was an idiot.

  And he’d really screwed up.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Boston PD

  When she strolled in, the whole place was alive and chaotic. Still, she was noticed almost immediately. Whether it was because she stood out, or Callen did, she wasn’t sure, but the cops weren’t happy.

  “Homicide—is it still upstairs?” she asked to a passing cop.

  “Yes, but you can’t wander around,” he stated.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Yeah, I might actually be a homicidal maniac looking to turn myself in after I hurt some pain in the ass cop who is giving me a hard time.”

  Callen cleared his throat. “Can you take us?” he asked, trying to be pleasant.

  “Sure,” the cop said.

  As they headed there, escorted by a uniformed cop who kept his hand on his sidearm like she was going to shoot him, Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

  “Be nice,” Callen whispered. “You get more flies with honey than dirty looks.”

  He may have had a point, but she was rubbed raw. There had been a killer in their room, the old ME from her past, and now cops were shooting her glares.

  Again.

  Yeah, big time déjà vu.

  Oh, she had news for them. Cops were more of a loose cannon than Feds.

  Look at the news.

  No one in her division shot anyone without probable cause. They could learn a lot from the FBI.

  “Here you go.”

  “Thank you,” Callen stated as the cop wandered off without looking back.

  “I love friendly people,” Elizabeth stated.

  He laughed. “Yeah, I’m thinking they say the same thing.”

  She didn’t tell him he was wrong.

  As they walked into the bullpen, Elizabeth saw the two detectives she’d had her run in with, talking with another two men.

  She immediately focused on the men with them.

  One was wearing a captain’s uniform, and the other was dressed in a suit.

  Oh, this was the commissioner. She could tell by the way he held himself.

  Well, she really hoped Gabe had cleared the way, or this was going to get ugly.

  She cleared her throat.

  Everyone in the room turned to look at her. The man in the suit was the ONLY one who looked remotely happy to see her.

  Yeah, she was accustomed to that.

  “Director Blackhawk, it’s a pleasure,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m Commissioner Ronan Schwartz. Gabriel called, informing us of your arrival.”

  “Yeah, he prefers to do that so people are aware that there’s mayhem coming.”

  He laughed.

  Ronan was aware. He’d researched this woman, and the things that went on around her.

  She could work to his advantage. The media followed her like the Pied Piper, and that could shine positive light on their department.

  Free publicity always worked for him.

  “Why don’t you and your husband come into the captain’s office so we can talk? Patty and I were just talking about you. This isn’t your first time to our city, is it?”

  She followed him, Callen right behind her.

  “Hell no, and I know ‘Patty’,” she stated, making sure that man who was giving her the hairy eyeball got it.

  She recognized him.

  “Do you?” Ronan asked.

  “Oh, yeah, I do. I was a newbie Fed when he and I crossed paths. I never forget a face. Names, yes, but faces, no,” she stated.

  They all took a seat.

  Still, the man said nothing.

  The commissioner made his introductions anyway, “Patrick O’Brien, you remember our guest.”

  The way he said it left nothing to the imagination. It was clear that the man was warning him not to be an asshole. The look that followed it was proof.

  “Yes, I recall meeting her earlier in both of our careers.”

  “Yeah, Patty. You were detective on duty, and I was the Fed who got the shit mess of finding the killer.”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed. “You hated me then.”

  “Nothing’s changed,” he said.

  The commissioner stared at him. “Patty!” He could see the free publicity going out the window—fast.

  “She’s not stupid,” he stated. “She knows we didn’t get along then, and we aren’t going to get along now. I also heard she kicked the shit out of two of my detectives.”

  That made her smile.

  “Well, they had it coming. Your detective tried to manhandle me. I don’t think he was ever taught that when a Fed rolls in, you roll out of her way.”

  The commissioner laughed, trying to lighten the mood of the situation.

  “Gabe said you were opinionated and tough. I think this is exactly what we need. What do you know so far? Our detective, who is going to work in tandem with you, didn’t have much.”

  “Nothing yet, Commissioner. The reason he couldn’t report back is I still haven’t gotten any details on the victims. Once my ME gets the autopsy done…”

  “Please, call me Ronan. I want to make this as easy on all of us. I hope you understand. We are all on the same side.”

  The captain made a disgruntled sound.

  God!

  This place reminded her of a dead cop, a shitty mob boss, and a different commissioner.

  “We have someone trying to figure out how the killer got into that building, but since it was part of an official stop on ‘The Underground Railroad’, I’m going to go with tunnel.”

  Elizabeth didn’t tell them about the email from her agent. She was going to share, but how she shared was up to her, and honestly, she didn’t like Patty or Detective Nealson.

  She’d learned to be cautious of who she let into the game. They’d been burned before by insiders doing the deed.

  “Do you have confirmation on that little fact?” Patty O’Brien asked.

  She focused on him. He was older, but then so was she. The last time she’d been there to work that case, Elizabeth had tried to be nice.

  Really.

  The man had a chip on his shoulder, and she bet it had everything to do with her having ovaries and not a penis.

  So, she withheld.

  “Not yet, but I’ll make sure you have it in an official report by the time we figure it out. If someone came at us that way, we’ll find him.”

  That was Fed speak for: ‘Dude, you’re getting an official report as soon as hell freezes over.’

  The man knew it too.

  They were going to be blank—if not lost via email. Tech was like that.

  The commissioner was studying her. “I do have a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “How do you know it’s a guy?” Ronan asked.

  That she would share.

  “My team feels that since moving the woman’s body would have been hellish—you know all that piano wire—that it had to be a bigger guy, especially if there was a tunnel involved. Think about the logistics.”

  The captain looked at Callen.

  Oh, she was cutting off that speculation at the pass.

  “Uh, put your peepers back in their sockets, Captain Suspicious. He was with me. When I say with me, I mean completely naked and busy. I’m a light sleeper. You have to be when you’re a mother. I heard him snoring all night long.”

  The man closed his mouth when his commissioner dismissed his postulation.

  “I have no doubt your husband, and partner, had nothing to do with this,” Ronan stated.

  Callen wiggled his fingers in a condescending wave. The man was looking for anyway to pin this on anyone. Yeah, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to deal with the local authorities.

  So far, they’d been accused.

  Ivan had been manhandled.

  And it wasn’t looking all sunny for them.

  “Elizabeth, may I call you that?” Ronan asked.


  “As long as you’re not using it in a condescending way or rolling your eyes at the same time. I have two husbands, Ronan. I’m about up to here,” she said, touching her jaw, “with sarcasm and condescension. So, use it with respect, and I’ll give you the same back.”

  “I agree, and here Gabe said you might be difficult.”

  “That’s after lunch when I have indigestion.”

  He laughed.

  “We simply want to be kept in the loop. That’s why I pushed the issue with having a detective with you.”

  That was total BS and she knew it. That detective was going to play tail because the man wanted eyes on the inside of their FBI circle.

  This was NOT her first day at the cop-relations-rodeo. Elizabeth saw this one coming a mile away.

  Well, she had information for the man. She was going to make sure that if the cop went home, she’d accidentally not call him. If he was on break, she’d drop the big news then.

  After Amir screwed them over, she didn’t trust anyone on her team, getting intel without really knowing them.

  Yeah, that was not how this was going down.

  “I’m good with Detective Chase hanging out. I am NOT good with Detective Nealson. He was disrespectful from the start. If you try to stick him with us, you’ll have one hell of a mess. I know me. I know men like him. It’ll be on the news.”

  “We don’t want that.”

  Yeah, she was well aware. The man was a little too willing to play with the FBI. She knew that he wasn’t elected to his post, so it couldn’t be about that.

  Elizabeth had to mull this one over.

  She was suspicious.

  “No, you don’t, and once Ethan Blackhawk arrives, the media is going to be all over us. Where we go, they follow.”

  “Oh, is he coming here?” he asked, smiling.

  And there it was.

  Elizabeth saw that look before.

  “Yes. He’s my profiler.” She pointed at Callen. “He’s officially my partner.”

  “Maybe he and I can get together and talk.”

  She knew what he meant. It would be a press junket with PR for the man. Well, at least he wasn’t trying to control freak her investigation.

  If he wanted to smile at a camera with Ethan, so be it. That was NOT her thing.

  “It could be a good working meeting.”

  Honestly, she didn’t give a shit what the man worked on in his day. She was focused on her shit getting done. Truth be told, when it came to Ethan, she was so accustomed to the mayhem of Ethan’s job, she ignored most of it.

  Well, not the women who threw themselves at him. That was damn hard to ignore.

  “You’ll have to take that up with him. I’m here to solve this. I don’t keep Ethan’s schedule, but you can contact his administrative assistant and talk to her.”

  “How about you give me his private number?” Ronan asked.

  That was met with fits of laughter.

  “Oh, you were serious. Well, here’s the deal. Five people have that number in order of importance. I have it, since I’m his wife. Callen has it since he’s his other spouse.”

  He waved.

  “Our nanny has it, since she has our kids, and Gabe has it, too, since he’s his partner and boss. After him, the president has it. No one else, so no. You may not have it. Call his administrative assistant. Her name is Ginny.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Well, there were more family that had his information, but this man was NEVER going to get it.

  Never.

  Ever.

  Ever.

  “I have my doubts,” Patty said.

  They all looked over.

  “Maybe you should be excluded,” Patty stated. “You know, since this killer left the victim for you.”

  “Victims,” she corrected. “She had the head and hands of an African American woman, and the rest was Caucasian. I’m not sure if that’s a message or not. Once Ethan arrives, I’ll find out. As for me stepping back, yeah, no. If I was called out, there’s a reason, and it’s never good. By ignoring this person, we could exacerbate the situation.”

  The commissioner didn’t want that.

  “If I can do anything,” Ronan offered.

  “Yeah, keep everyone out of my way so I can do my job. That’s all I’m asking.”

  He got it.

  That was likely his only warning.

  “If Doctor Julliard is an issue, by all means, contact me,” the commissioner offered. “I spoke to her this morning after I got the call from Gabe. She should be very accommodating.”

  Oh, Elizabeth was sure.

  The woman was staring down Chris Leonard like he was a steak, and she was a lion. She’d like to accommodate him right into bed.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Elizabeth’s phone chimed.

  “That’s my ME now.”

  She pulled it out of her pocket.

  ‘I found something you are going to want to see. Check in when you can.’

  Well, she could do that. All this friendly chitchat was making her cranky. For everyone’s sake, she needed to focus on work. When she was dealing with a killer, she wasn’t thinking about how Wyler left, or how she’d been betrayed by Maeve.

  “Well?” Patty O’Brien stated.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Sir! Already, she’s yanking our chain! Working with her is going to be very difficult if she’s going to be like this.”

  She laughed.

  “You think it’s funny?” Patty asked.

  “I will when you eat crow,” she stated, handing the commissioner her phone. “That’s what I’m hiding.”

  The man read it.

  It was probably best if Ronan kept his police captain far away from the Feds. This was a powder keg waiting to go off at any moment.

  “Calm down, Patty. She literally meant that she didn’t know because her ME didn’t tell her. You need to relax and trust the FBI. I have utmost faith in Elizabeth being open with us. If not, I can rectify that with her boss.”

  She could have told him off.

  She could have given him a look.

  Instead, she kept her amusement to herself. Gabe Rothschild had been trying to keep the Elizabeth train under control for years.

  He hadn’t had luck yet.

  If this man thought she’d freak out and start being ‘good’ with a threat.

  Yeah.

  No.

  Freaking.

  Clue.

  “If we’re done, Commissioner, I’d like to grab Detective Chase and head back to see what my ME found. Once I have an ID, I’ll send it over in a report.”

  Yeah, when Hell froze over.

  “Elizabeth, good luck out there, and if you need anything, call me,” he said, digging out one of his cards. “Have your husband stop in to talk,” he offered. “I’m looking forward to meeting the deputy director.”

  She nodded and headed out.

  Oh, she bet he was.

  Outside the captain’s office, she motioned toward the detective she’d met earlier at the bed and breakfast. He was leaning against the wall and waiting for them.

  “We’re heading out. Do you have the missing person reports?” she asked.

  He held up a folder.

  “Let’s go.”

  As they walked out, he was instep right beside her. Elizabeth knew he was so new that even his shoes were shined.

  Yeah, that said a lot.

  When you’d done homicide for a long time, you slept, dressed, and hustled to work. There was no time for shining your shoes or wearing good ones in the street.

  Blood was a bitch.

  She knew that personally.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “We are heading back to the morgue. My ME found something, and we’re going to begin working this case. The fun is over. It’s time to find those women some justice.”

  He didn’t say a word.

  Instead, he was simply grateful to be learning
from her. Don’t get him wrong, he liked his partner, but this was Elizabeth Blackhawk.

  She ate killers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  And Max wanted to do that.

  It was his goal in life.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Jet

  Over the Mid-West

  When his father began waking up, Ethan pretty much ignored him. He was handcuffed to his seat with a vomit bag in his lap. That said about everything about the status of this little flight.

  Wyler was a hot mess, and he was over it. Now they were wasting taxpayer’s money on this crazy.

  “Where am I?” Wyler muttered.

  When his father spoke to him, Ethan closed his laptop and turned his captain’s chair to face him.

  “I see you’ve decided to join us.”

  Wyler grabbed his head. “Who hit me?”

  Ethan pointed at Heath not far away. “He’s Liam’s replacement, and we like to call him ‘Bruiser’. He looks slow, but he’s deceivingly light on his feet. He used to be a football player before the military.”

  The man stared at him. “Now I take care of the director—not the quarterback. I get to put some hurting on bad guys.”

  “Yes, you do, Heath, and I appreciate it. He’s one of the bad guys right now.”

  Wyler rested his head and closed his eyes.

  “Why are you doing this?” he finally asked. “Why couldn’t you just let me go?”

  “So you can play suicide by bottle, Wyler? No fucking way. I’m not living with that on my shoulders. You’re a grown man, and Bly is nothing but poison. Here’s the proof.”

  “My wife died.”

  “Yes, Dad, she did, but this isn’t how you honor Maeve’s life or your son’s existence. Elizabeth fought to save who she could, and TJ was it. You have to accept that.”

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “Your wife didn’t save her.”

  Ethan realized that he couldn’t even say her name.

  “Elizabeth? If you’re going to discuss her, she’s not ‘SHE, HER, YOUR WIFE, or THAT WOMAN’,” he said. “Elizabeth has been raising your child since you left.”

  “Yes, her.”

  Ethan began laughing. “You’re an ungrateful asshole, and I’m ashamed to look like you, share your pathetic DNA, and most importantly—be your son.”