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

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Fire Burns Hot ((An FBI/ Romance Thriller~ (Book 5))) Page 51

by Kelley, Morgan


  It was blatantly obvious that the woman had an emotional connection with their father. Possibly even an attachment. No wonder he was always ‘taking a walk’ on the Rez. Ethan suspected he now knew why. His dad had a girlfriend, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.

  “Elizabeth, our wife,” began Whitefox, drawing their attention, “is adamant that anyone that we bring into our house be Native. She wants our children to be raised with the language, the customs, and food of our culture.”

  Bly nodded and began speaking in their native tongue, and then waited for the reply. She was curious to know if the boys spoke the language. Immediately, Callen replied and then laughed, apologizing for his brother. Ethan sucked at conjugating the verbs.

  “I’m not that bad, Cal,” he said laughing. “But he’s right. I can’t speak it as well as Elizabeth and Callen. I do understand it though, so I’m trying.”

  She nodded. “Your wife also speaks it?” she asked, curiously.

  Both men nodded. “Elizabeth takes our culture very serious. So please don’t assume she’s a mere outsider. As I’m sure our father has told you, she’s one of us Blackhawks.”

  “He’s spoken highly of her.”

  “Here’s the other situation,” started Blackhawk. “This pregnancy has made her abhorrent to meat. Since we’ll be asking you to help dad out cooking, we need it to be as meat free as possibly until she’s over the sickness.”

  “I can do that. What is her favorite meal?”

  “Fry bread,” they said at the same time, and then began laughing.

  “I’ll make sure she eats more than just fry bread. When you’re growing a child you need more healthy choices. I’ll assure she’s well fed. I raised picky children. I can be devious in the kitchen if need be.”

  Blackhawk grinned, already liking the woman. “Here is our offer for the position. Since we work odd hours, it will be a Monday through Friday job. The hours will probably be ten a.m. to seven p.m. I will admit there are days we work late hours. Keeping FBI West running isn’t a nine to five job, unfortunately.”

  Bly took the paper he slid across the desk and read it. The salary was a lot more than she expected. “That’s a very generous offer,” she said, looking up at them.

  “Our family is paramount. Their well-being and safety come first above everything else. I won’t lie to you, Ms. Cocheta, I plan on running a background check on you that would make J. Edgar Hoover blush. If there’s anything in your past that you want me to be aware of beforehand, now’s the time to tell us.”

  She watched him carefully. “I married young, I had my kids and they grew up. I’ve lived my entire life on the reservation. I have nothing to hide, Mr. Blackhawk. If anything I can promise that when you do your background check you’ll find it to be relatively boring.”

  “I’ll run it immediately, but I believe you.” The woman had very peaceful calm eyes. “If you wish, you can start today. I believe dad is at the house and could use some assistance. If you change your mind, you can just let us know and we’ll end our affiliation.”

  The woman noticed the one brother was the serious one and the other the more relaxed one. She could tell by the way they dressed and carried themselves.

  “I’ll go help him. Maybe I’ll make him a pie,” she said and noticed that Callen started laughing. “Is something funny young man?” she inquired, standing and placing her hands on her hips.

  He stopped laughing fast. “Nothing, ma’am,” he answered, and it had his brother laughing now.

  “Very well. I have a few rules myself that you should be aware of too,” she added, remaining standing, but this time crossing her arms across his body.

  Blackhawk lifted a brow. “And they are?”

  “If you’re going to be late for dinner or you have something you specifically want, advanced notice is appreciated.”

  They both were okay with that.

  “I’m a neat freak, and I will clean up after you, but there are limits to my tolerance of messiness.”

  “Elizabeth is a clean freak herself. You’ll find our house is rigidly organized,” stated Blackhawk.

  “She and I will get along then.”

  “Next?” asked Blackhawk.

  “I don’t tolerate or appreciate profanity.”

  Both men started laughing, and when she looked confused, they laughed even more. “Mrs. Cocheta, our Elizabeth is one that is easily misunderstood. So, keep that in mind and get to know her first before you judge the book by the cover.”

  She nodded and made a mental note to ask Wyler about Elizabeth later.

  “Thank you for taking this position,” Callen said, offering her his hand.

  She nodded and walked out of the office.

  Ethan glanced over at his brother. “What do you think of her?” he asked grinning.

  “I think she’s either going to whip us all into shape, make Elizabeth bat shit insane, or run from our home screaming in absolute horror after about a week.”

  He tended to agree.

  “Is it wrong all I kept thinking about was that dad and Bly were going to be making out in our kitchen?”

  Blackhawk found that funny. “I kept thinking about him chasing her around our living room.”

  “I think tonight we go home and bust dad’s ass unmercifully,” suggested Callen.

  Blackhawk offered him a fist bump. “Hell yeah we are going to, especially if there’s a pie on the counter.”

  Both men started laughing.

  “Come on. We need to stop thinking about dad and his woman friend, and focus on William Thomas.”

  “Easier said than done,” Callen replied, laughing.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I don’t know why we’re surprised. Dad is a Blackhawk.”

  Callen snickered. “Damn superior woman chasing genes.”

  ~ Chapter Eighteen ~

  This was going to be a lesson in humility, Elizabeth could already tell. She was standing half naked in a dressing room being checked out by the myriad of strippers. At least she wasn’t alone. Cyra looked equally bothered by the critiques and comments. Oddly, Tori didn’t seem concerned by it at all, and Elizabeth was writing it off as military training. Being around men all day in the filthiness of war had to strip down some of your inhibitions.

  When Trixie said she’d help, Elizabeth didn’t expect four other strippers being there to break them down emotionally. It was as if they were trying to teach them a lesson. She got it, they were used to being looked down on and everyone thought their jobs were incredibly easy. Little did they know that wading through guts, death and the inhumanity that one man inflicted on the other was just as demoralizing.

  “Are we done trying to teach us a lesson, Trixie? I get that you ladies want to make us as uncomfortable as possible, but enough is fucking enough. I can sashay my ass home to my kid and men and let the killer pick off one of you next.”

  That got their attention.

  “You don’t like us, because we’re feds and you think we look down at your profession.”

  The women wouldn’t give them eye contact.

  “Right now, we three are all that stand between one of you becoming the next crispy corpse. So, laugh it up and get your jollies on that three uncoordinated women who are going to try and pull off a monumental feat. At least we have the balls to try. You want to come do my job?” Elizabeth looked around. “I had to pull dead mothers and fetuses out of a pit. There were twenty plus women floating in body soup.” She crossed her arms over her bra. “Want the recipe for body soup, girls? Its guts, excrement, and liquefied adipose tissue, and I spent six hours sitting in it. It took days to stop smelling it, since it permeated my hair.”

  Tori spoke up next. “I once had to witness a mother and her three children being blown up. I was picking dead kids off me and my partner for the rest of the day. You should see the shit that goes down in the streets of Afghanistan.”

  Cyra nodded. “My last case had a woman eviscerated from her t
hroat to her pubic bone and all twenty some feet of her intestines all over the damn place.”

  The women had the chagrin to get it.

  “We all have tough lives, ladies. I rarely judge people. My job is to follow the law. You want to swing your body around a pole all day long, I don’t give a damn. You want to turn up cooked and most of your bones shattered by this serial rapist, then I have to be worried.”

  Trixie finally spoke. “I guess we were making it hard for you. I apologize.”

  “I just want to catch the killer. Imagine how hard it is for us to do something you women do seamlessly every day. Plus I’m three months pregnant ladies. Putting on anything sexy scares the shit out of me.”

  The pink haired stripper spoke. “You're right. We’ll help you through this. I’m Rainbow,” she said grinning.

  “Thank you,” said Tori, glad Elizabeth had stepped in and stopped the mocking. She was about ready to kick someone’s stripper ass.

  “Let’s start with the basics,” said Trixie. “Outfits are the most important part. Men are very visual and they need to see what they’re fantasizing about. We pulled a few outfits from our collective stash and think we can get you taken care of that way.”

  “I can’t wait,” said Elizabeth. “It’s like sexy lingerie. That I completely understand and appreciate.”

  Rainbow grinned. “Just keep thinking that, and pretend it’s for your man, and you’ll be good.”

  Trixie spoke up. “Her men will be out there. She sleeps with the two sexy Indian guys you were checking out.”

  Elizabeth was going to tell them ‘Native American’, but she just let it go. “Yeah, they’ll be here. They’re our backup.”

  There were giggles and comments from all the women about her luck. She didn’t doubt it for a second. She was well aware of how blessed she was when it came to the men in her life.

  “What about you,” Trixie said to Tori. “Is the man you’re always with your guy?”

  She flushed. “Uh, yeah I guess.” What was the point of going into details?

  “What about you blondie?”

  Cyra didn’t get insulted. “Nope, I’m a free agent in this group.” She’d hoped to attract the doctor, but that didn’t seem to pan out well. It appeared Cyra scared him away somehow.

  “Well, the easiest thing is dressing the way you feel and with flair. I pulled you this costume,” Trixie said, pointing to Elizabeth. “I think you’ll look hot in it.”

  Elizabeth took one look at it and knew where she was heading. Her laughter was automatic. “Done deal here,” she said, touching the material and grinning. “I gotta say that I love it. You have a sense of humor, Trixie, and that I appreciate.”

  “We just need to tame that hair of yours. It’s a little much.”

  She shrugged. “Ladies, feel free,” Elizabeth stated as she followed the one stripper with the enormous breasts. “Work your magic.”

  Tori was next. Trixie flipped through a rack of outfits and stopped at one in particular. “This one’s you.”

  Taking it in her hands she grinned. “Yeah, it absolutely is,” Tori said, going with another stripper to get her hair fixed up.

  “Blondie, you were difficult to pinpoint. We didn’t want to go with a boring cop outfit, so we went with this,” she said, pulling it out and handing it to her.

  Cyra smiled. “I can work this,” she stated, heading off with Rainbow to get something done with her hair.

  Trixie headed over to Elizabeth and helped her co-worker do something with her hair. “The pole is going to be hard unless you’re athletic,” she said, talking to all three women.

  Elizabeth let the women straighten her hair. She’d never seen it completely straight before and was curious. “I used to be a cheerleader, and can do a split.”

  “Then you’ll have the upper body strength to swing on a pole. You just need to make it look sexy, that’s the hard part. I hope you don’t mind some hand calluses.”

  Elizabeth held out her right hand to show the woman. “It’s called policeman’s grip. I already have a few from repeated gun holding.”

  “Then you’ll be golden.”

  Glancing down at her watch, Elizabeth noticed they had three hours. “We have to talk about some rules tonight, ladies,” she stated, loud enough to get all their attention as she directed it to the strippers.

  “Shoot,” said Trixie, using a flat iron on Elizabeth’s hair.

  “No one leaves the building unaccompanied. He’s finding a way to take women right from this place. I don’t want to be going to your crime scene. Clear?”

  All four ladies nodded.

  “You need to smoke, you do it in pairs or you take Chase or your personal bouncers out with you.”

  Everyone agreed once again.

  “We have five male agents that will be in-house making sure we’re safe and scoping out the killer. I need you all to stay out of their way and avoid them.”

  “We’re paid to not avoid them,” said Trixie, laughing.

  She wasn’t having a stripper sitting in Ethan or Callen’s lap. It wasn’t happening. “We’ll handle our co-workers, you handle everyone else. I’m not saying don’t talk to them, but no lap dances. Our team is on duty.”

  The women agreed reluctantly.

  “Too bad, I was going to plant myself in the lap of one of your Indians,” said Rainbow.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Then I’ll be planting you in a hole about six feet deep.” Now she smiled sweetly.

  “I don’t think you’re kidding,” Rainbow said warily.

  The look on Elizabeth’s face said it all.

  She absolutely wasn’t.

  * * *

  Outside the strip club, Ethan and Callen slipped into their Kevlar vests, like they’d promised Elizabeth. Looking around, both men were fully on alert. They weren’t taking any chances that Marla would be back and with her gun. Callen was pretty sure the woman would hold a wicked grudge toward the ‘Indians’. The only plus in all this was Elizabeth was hated even more by her, and nowhere near the place.

  “This place is definitely less attractive than ‘The Pussy Cat Club’,” stated Blackhawk, observing the run down exterior. “And that’s saying a lot.”

  “Yeah, wait until you see the inside,” Callen answered, yanking his pull over onto his body. “This place is definitely lower class.”

  Ethan grinned at his brother. “You take our backs, I’ll watch our fronts.”

  Whitefox nodded, unsnapping his gun holster. “I’m ready,” he stated, walking into the club behind his brother. He scanned all the shadows and watched for any quick motion.

  Inside Ethan noticed his brother’s assessment was definitely spot on. The other club was full of colors and reminded him of the inside of a candy jar. This place looked like a rundown hooker retirement home. “Holy shit,” he muttered, as he walked into a face full of cigarette smoke.

  Callen tapped his brother on the shoulder and pointed to the man now behind the bar. Apparently, after Marla was arrested he’d gotten a job promotion. “Hey Willie, remember me?” called Callen, getting his attention.

  When the man moved his arm below their view of the bar top, both brothers pulled their side arms, pointing them at the man.

  “I wouldn’t move William Thomas. In this shadowy room, we’re likely to think you’re going for a gun. You might find yourself dead.” Blackhawk wasn’t kidding.

  “Hey! I wasn’t going for a gun! I swear,” he stated, raising his arms, waving the bar rag.

  “Step around the side and come over here where we can see you,” ordered Blackhawk. He wasn’t taking any chances. Once the man complied, he patted him down and made sure he was weapon free. “You don’t have anything on you that’s going to cut or poke me, Willie, do you?” he inquired. “That’ll really piss me off, and I might have to take my anger out on you.”

  “I have a utility knife in my back pocket,” he said honestly. “For popping open the beer boxes.”

  Et
han tossed it to his brother. “Okay, let’s head outside where we can talk. I don’t like dark places where people can sneak up on me. I want to watch you in the daylight.”

  Both men followed him outside.

  “Mind if I smoke?” he asked. “They're in my pocket. Can I reach in and get them without you shooting me?” he waited, watching them.

  “Go ahead,” Blackhawk answered.

  “Why are you here shaking me down again? The hot babe already knocked me on my ass and brought me in once. She didn’t say I did some shit, did she? Because I hate babes that run their mouths.”

  Both men let it go, since there was no point setting the man straight. He was two dollars short of buying a clue.

  “You were over at ‘The Pussy Cat Club’ the other night, in fact, you were a regular over there visiting Lulu LaVous.”

  “Yeah, I frequented the establishment. I like the broads they have shaking their asses over there. You look at the same shit daily you need a change of scenery. It’s no different than with you two. You go to work and look at that hot broad and then you go home and bang your wives. Don’t tell me she isn’t on your mind at least a little bit. She has a superior set of breasts.”

  “You married, Willie?” asked Whitefox, just about ready to poke the man’s eyes out for talking about Elizabeth’s assets.

  “No, I don’t like doing only one broad. Although I wish I could get the FBI babe’s number. If I could have my pick of one broad to bang over and over, it’d be her.”

  Blackhawk moved closer to Willie and narrowed his eyes. “Let me make one thing clear. That ‘hot broad’ is my wife. I look at her all day and then go home to her, but it pisses me off when men like you call her names or check her out.”

  “It makes me want to cut out his eyes,” stated Whitefox. “The ‘hot broad’ is also pregnant with my child. So, maybe Willie, you best be getting yourself a bigger vocabulary that excludes the words you’re familiar with to describe the women you see. In my world I don’t talk about ladies like that, especially one that I’m in love with a great deal.”

 

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