Fire Burns Hot ((An FBI/ Romance Thriller~ (Book 5)))

by Kelley, Morgan

  “It’s okay. Brian has a damn hard head. I’ll survive.”

  Chris hustled over and took her hand in his, concern filling his eyes. Gently, he pressed on the joints. “Does this hurt?” he asked her.

  “Little bit,” she said grimacing, as he pressed down. “Okay, a bit more than a that.”

  Pulling an ice pack out of the first aid kit, he placed it on her hand and ace bandaged it up. “Keep this on for a little while, if the swelling doesn’t go down, I’ll have to cut that ring off,” he stated, pointing to the ring on her finger.

  “Thank you, Chris.”

  He nodded at her. “Anytime, Cyra.” Looking over at Elizabeth he nodded. “I’m going to transport the body back to FBI West. I want to do a trace sweep for anything that could be left.”

  Elizabeth knew the look in his eyes. “What’s got your interest piqued Doc?” she asked.

  “I don’t smell gasoline, and this time she didn’t burn as fast and hot. I think he used another accelerant to light the fire. If he did then maybe we have something to trace him with.”

  Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone and called Tori. She hated to wake her and Julian up too, but she needed her fire expert in the lab, especially if they suspected Patrick Wells.

  “Hello?” said the sleepy voice.

  “Saddle up, Agent. I want you in house in thirty minutes. We have another,” she stated. “He switched up the way he lit her up and location. We’re all back on duty.”

  “Julian too?” Tori queried, coming awake fast.

  Elizabeth looked around. “Yeah, at daylight our tracker’s going to be coming to the scene to look around. The killer purposely left her here outside the club. I think he’s taunting us. I need Julian to look around and see if he can find anything.”

  “I’ll pass that on,” Tori replied.

  Elizabeth looked over as a police car screamed into the parking lot. “I have to go; I have a police captain to tear a new one.”

  The man’s eyes were locked onto Detective Austin. It appeared that Brian Leto wasn’t only a male chauvinist pig, but also a tattletale who deserved that punch. Elizabeth tried to get to the detective first.

  “Detective, can you explain to me why you punched out a fellow officer on a crime scene?” he boomed. “Of all the irresponsible things I’ve heard from my officers, this has to be one of the big ones. You’re on suspension as of this moment and you’ll be going before the review board.”

  Blackhawk stepped forward, taking control of the situation. “Excuse me, are you Captain Gilman?” he asked, moving between the woman and her boss.

  “I am! Who the hell are you?” he said staring up at the giant Indian man.

  Ethan held out his hand. “I’m Director Ethan Blackhawk. You may have met my partner and wife,” he said, pointing at Elizabeth. “I get that you’re angry with your Ms. Austin, but she was provoked into the punch by your asshole detective.”

  “So, you think that just because you’re the FBI, you can now tell me how to discipline my officers?”

  Blackhawk grinned at him.

  “Oh shit,” muttered Callen to Elizabeth. “That’s his ‘fuck you’ smile. He’s going to make the man bleed.”

  Elizabeth watched her husband and couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah it is. I love when he gets that look, and the person he’s smiling at has no idea what’s coming,” she mumbled, low enough that only Callen caught her words.

  “You take care of your staff, Director Blackhawk and keep your nose out of my damn business.”

  Ethan turned around. “Cyra, turn in your badge and gun and resign,” he said softy. His voice held a tiny twinge of menace behind the words.

  Cyra hoped he knew what he was doing, because she just tossed her career away and was at Gilman’s mercy. “Okay, Director.” She slipped off her badge, and popped the magazine from her gun and discharged the round in the chamber.

  “Think about what you’re doing, Detective,” bellowed Gilman.

  “Here’s my gun and badge, Captain. I’m resigning my position effective immediately.” Cyra handed him her badge and gun.

  Blackhawk stared at her. “Ms. Austin, have you ever wanted to be an FBI agent?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re hired,” he said, and turned back on the Captain. “Now, as you can see Gilman, you have no business here with MY AGENT. If you attempt to follow through on anything your Detective stated happened, I will go on record refuting it.”

  “As will I,” interjected Elizabeth.

  “Me too,” Callen said, raising his hand.

  Gilman looked ready to explode in absolute fury.

  “As you can plainly see, Captain. You no longer have anyone on this crime scene that is your direct responsibility, but let me make this crystal clear. I am very good at playing politics, and I will have the call into the governor by eight a.m. informing him of Detective Leto and yourself trying to sideline this investigation. I will have your job, and I will make your life a living hell. If you think I don’t have the power or inclination to screw with your life, then think again. Now you keep your detective away from my people or next time I won’t be civil. Don’t just stand there. How about you close your mouth and get the hell off our crime scene?”

  Elizabeth snickered at the look on the man’s face.

  “You screwed up, Austin. You’ll never be a cop again!” he shouted over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, she’ll be a federal agent that gets to brow beat the local cops. Sounds like an upgrade to me,” stated Elizabeth.

  “Welcome aboard, Cyra. You have to pass qualifications to get your badge and gun, but other than that you have a job with us at FBI West.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said, staring at her new bosses.

  Elizabeth pointed at the tech team. “Get some gloves on and help them get the evidence loaded up. On our team you have to be able to pull double duty in the field.”

  She nodded, pulling the ice pack off her hand. “Thank you both,” Cyra smiled, rushing off.

  When the woman was out of ear shot, she turned towards her husband. “That was the sexiest display of bossing a local cop around that I’ve ever seen, Ethan. It was very hot,” she said, going up on her toes and kissing him fast.

  When she pulled away he was grinning. “I aim to please, ma’am,” he said.

  Elizabeth whispered something in his ear and his mouth opened, and he stared incredulously.

  “Hey! I want to hear what she said,” interjected Callen. “Come on!”

  “Tell off the local cops and I will,” she said, laughing as she crossed the parking lot. “Come on boys, we have strippers to question yet again.”

  “Ethan, you have to tell me what she said,” he whispered to his brother. “No secrets!”

  Blackhawk repeated the words.

  “Oh. My. God!”

  He started laughing. “Yeah tell me about it. I’m going to start telling off every cop I meet.”

  “Count me in,” he said, watching her walk away, as he wondered if she could actually pull that off.

  * * *

  The killer paced in his living room as he thought about what just happened. The entire thing was screwed up. He was pretty sure that the FBI agent had seen him at the club the other day leaving. Now it was going to get dangerous if the woman could identify him.

  All he kept thinking was how badly he screwed this up. He was a smart man, how could he fix it? Pacing was just agitating him, and he cracked open a beer and chugged it down. Okay, tomorrow he’d go to work and find someone that could give him an alibi for the night. Just in case.

  Yeah, that would solve it. Maybe someone he was employed with could be convinced that he was with them the entire night. It wasn’t like his co-workers were the brightest bulbs in the box. They could be talked into just about anything.

  Relief filled him, and he grabbed another beer. His shift at work started in a few hours and right now he needed to calm down, not think about getting ca
ught and simply sleep.

  Climbing into bed he dropped onto the covers and placed his hands behind his head. His mind began wandering back to the woman he’d taken that night.

  The fear was replaced with a grin on his face. He may get caught, but he’d always have the memories.

  Yeah, he still wasn’t done.

  He’d never be done, as long as there were stupid women in the world that needed to be taught a lesson.

  With that thought, he chugged the remainder of his beer and closed his eyes.

  Tonight it was good to be him.

  * * *

  No one in the strip club was happy to see the FBI agents again. In fact, they weren’t very broken up about losing Lulu either. What they did want was to go home and get to sleep, and they made that point very well known to everyone who’d listen.

  Unfortunately for them, Elizabeth didn’t really give a rat’s ass. She was pulled from a warm bed to stand in the bubble gum colored strip club at two in the morning. Right then, she could be sleeping between two very sexy men. Anything the strippers had to bitch about was falling on very deaf ears.

  At the small café table sat the woman who came across their dead, burning woman. Her eyes were red; her makeup was tear streaked and her hands shook. When she couldn’t get her cigarette lit, Callen took the lighter from her hand and helped her out.

  “Thank you,” she said, trying to smile. “I can’t believe Lulu is dead, and I can’t believe I had to be the one to find her.”

  “I’m sorry you had to discover her,” Elizabeth reassured gently. “It’s hard to lose a friend.”

  The woman snorted. “Lulu wasn’t anyone’s friend. She’d steal away a lap dance and cut a bitch just to watch her bleed. I’m not sorry she’s dead, only that I had to be the one to stumble across it. Watching a body on fire isn’t exactly pleasant.”

  Elizabeth lifted a brow at the honesty. “Okay then Trixie,” she read the name off the paper the woman filled out describing the events. “Can you tell me in your own words what happened?”

  She shrugged. “I had just finished a dance in a private room. I like to get out as fast as I can, or the man starts groping. I went outside to have a smoke, and as I opened the door there was his horrible smell. It was like a cross between melting plastic and cooked pork.” Again the woman laughed. “Lulu was practically rebuilt out of silicone and plastic. There wasn’t a piece of her that was real, and I always told her she was a little too piggish to be swinging on a pole.”

  Elizabeth was at a loss for words. Generally she was the crassest person in a conversation, but Trixie had her beat on this one. If she didn’t have another body on the morgue slab, and no evidence, she may have laughed at the comments. “So you hated Lulu, you thought she was a fat ass, and everything about her was fake.”

  “Pretty much. Hey don’t get me wrong. She had lots of clients. Anyone could have repeat men if you’re blowing them in the back room for ten bucks.” At that she winked at both men. “Right boys? Once a girl gives you a really good blow job you’re theirs for life.”

  Neither man spoke.

  “I can show you both if you like,” she said, leaning forward. “I’ve always had a thing for exotic looking men. They get me all hot and bothered.

  Somehow the men were pretty sure she said that to all the men that strolled through the door.

  Elizabeth leaned towards the woman. “Hey Trixie, you see these men? I sleep with them both. You don’t need to picture your lips anywhere near their dicks or I’ll drop kick your drag queen ass across the county. Are we clear?”

  The woman laughed. “We are very clear, Mrs. FBI.”

  “Now, back to the semi cooked Lulu, if you don’t mind. Who came to see her tonight? Anyone you recognized? Her time card says she left at eleven, but we find her on fire in the parking lot at two a.m. In fact, her car didn’t leave its parking spot.”

  Trixie leaned back and blew smoke rings. “She has quite a few regulars, but she had a visit from Fast Willie.”

  Elizabeth was getting irritated at the ridiculous names. “Who the hell is Fast Willie?”

  “He’s a bouncer at some seedy joint across town. He’s usually trolling for a stripper or three to head there to moonlight, but the owner is a real trash bag. Marla is bat shit insane and likes to get violent.”

  “William Thomas?” she asked, her interest piqued that they had a commonality between the two clubs.

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  Elizabeth grinned at Callen. “I think we have someone else to have a little chit chat with,” she said. “Trixie, I could kiss you,” she stated standing.

  The woman checked her out. “You’re actually kinda hot, so I wouldn’t say no. With your booty, you could rake in the loot.”

  Elizabeth found that entertaining. “Thanks Trixie, if I ever lose my job, I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Both men laughed, following her to the bar. “Don’t count on that,” muttered Blackhawk.

  “Over my dead body,” added Callen.

  She just shook her head and tapped on the bar, drawing Chase Reynolds attention. “Hey, you see William Thomas in here tonight?”

  “Who?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  “Willie,” she said, describing him.

  Chase nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, he had a private with Lulu and then left. Before her he was talking to Trixie and a few other girls. I guess he’s picky with his choice in ladies.”

  “Did you know Lulu was putting out in the back rooms, Chase?” Blackhawk asked, leaning on the bar.

  The man looked away. “Yeah, I knew. I got a twenty percent cut of her tricks if I just didn’t pay attention.”

  “You know that’s pimping, right?” added Elizabeth, slightly impressed that he didn’t lie.

  He looked appalled. “Am I going to jail?” he asked. “I’ll stop doing it.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Was it busy in here today?”

  “No, business blew. Once word got out that there were feds in the joint, the men stayed away. Listen most of our guys are married men. They come in because their wives aren’t getting them off anymore. They need a little excitement. You guys know what I mean, right?” he said, looking back and forth between Callen and Ethan.

  Both shook their heads. “Married,” said Blackhawk, pointing at his ring.

  “Me too,” Callen said.

  Chase continued. “Wives get fat after pregnancy, they let themselves go, and a man needs a nice piece of ass bouncing in his lap. Are you both satisfied with sex with your wives?” he asked. “Or don’t you wish you sometimes had the fantasy of a hot sexy woman all over you?”

  Now they started laughing.

  “I don’t get what’s so funny,” he said, really confused.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m the wife in question,” she said, including them both. “I also just had a baby six months ago, and I’m three months pregnant right now. They’re laughing because they’re waiting for me to jump this bar and beat your ass down for being a jackwagon. Honestly, I’m contemplating doing it too.”

  “Oh, well… Sorry?” He didn’t know what else to say.

  There was nothing more to say to the man. Elizabeth slid her card across the table and looked him in the eyes. “Stick around and you make sure you stop pimping, or I will make sure you go in for it. I also will make sure you’re the pretty thing bouncing in some big man’s lap in the federal lock up.”

  He blanched at the idea. “Yes ma’am.”

  On her way out she could hear both men snickering. Outside she grinned. “What?”

  “That was quite the visual you laid out there,” stated Blackhawk.

  “Yeah, well you know me. I’m Mrs. Descriptive.”

  They walked the scene one more time, watching the tech team load up all the evidence into the vans. Chris was already gone, and so was their new team member, Cyra Austin.

  “I think we need to head back to the office. There’s some video footage we need to wat
ch.” Elizabeth looked at her watch. “Let’s grab breakfast first. I need to feed Baby Whitefox. He’s demanding something that doesn’t have bacon or eggs in it.”

  “Bagel and coffee?” offered Callen.

  “I was thinking more like oatmeal,” she said, hopping into the Denali. When Ethan stared at her she looked around her. “What?”

  “Oatmeal? Seriously?” Blackhawk questioned her. “You call oatmeal ‘that grainy shit that masquerades as food’,” he snickered, repeating her verbatim.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Hey, don’t blame me. I’m not driving this pregnancy. The little tiny baby that’s squatting in my uterus is now in charge. I’m simply the host that he’s mooching off, and he wants oatmeal and blueberries. Blame the baby daddy’s DNA.”

  Blackhawk practically snorted. Elizabeth always entertained him. One never knew what was going to pop out of her mouth.

  “I’ll get you whatever you want,” answered Callen. “When we get back to FBI West, I’ll head down to the café and make sure they make you oatmeal with blueberries. Anything else,” he said, waiting for her wish to be his command.

  “You’re spoiling her and that’s going to make it worse when she gets further along,” warned Blackhawk.

  Callen didn’t care. “The mother of my child gets anything she wants,” he stated.

  “Man, this is actually nice. A man that wants to worship his pregnant woman and not boss her around like she’s three. I could get used to this.”

  Blackhawk snickered. “You’ve created a monster.”

  Callen leaned forward and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Yeah probably, but a happy wife…”

  “Is a damn happy life,” finished Elizabeth, laughing.

  Wasn’t that the absolute truth?

  ~ Chapter Sixteen ~

  Tuesday morning – FBI West

  Standing in her office, she watched the tech set up the VCR for her and the men. When she called down to the lab requesting one, you’d think she’d asked for a dinosaur to be excavated and dropped onto her desk. Looking at the machine, Elizabeth could see she wasn’t far off. It was old, crotchety and well past its prime.