Revenge has Come (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 19)

by Morgan Kelley

  He snorted, and then got into place.

  The picture in his head was horrible.

  Cringeworthy.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  They were.

  The three braced themselves.

  Then they heard the door.

  Dakota cut the police tape, and then he carefully picked the lock. The whole time, his partner was standing behind him, watching his back.

  Still, he was glad to get inside where no one would see them. If they got caught breaking in, he was screwed seven days to Sunday on this one.

  There was no way he could explain this to his boss.

  Heads were going to roll.

  Marcus Hunter would not be amused one bit by this cockamamie plan of his.

  Already, the man was calling his phone, and he’d let it go to voicemail to avoid him.

  There was a good possibility that he was a dead man walking when this was over, but he only needed a little while longer. If he could get that autopsy report, he could head out. Then the FBI could have the victim.

  Dakota needed to compare the victim to the ones they’d spotted around DC.

  It was important.

  Once back to their office, he could safely start hunting down his prey.

  “Where to?” Sarah asked.

  “We’ll start in the kitchen. Bonnie liked to torment and torture, so she likely had interaction with him. It wouldn’t be random. Let’s see if we can find anything out of place,” he said, heading there himself.

  Sarah walked the long way around the blood before stopping to look at the pictures on the wall. From them, she could tell what the man had looked like.

  That might make getting an ID easier if the Feds didn’t give them the autopsy.

  “Dakota,” she said, trying to get his attention.

  He didn’t reply.

  “Dakota?”

  Sarah headed toward the kitchen. When she got there, she found her partner on his knees with his hands on his head.

  And she found a woman holding a gun pointed right at her. Immediately, without thinking, she went for it, trying to save her partner.

  Elizabeth saw the intent beforehand. The small blonde kicked her gun out of her hand and went for her face with her fingers.

  She was trying to blind her.

  Well, someone didn’t watch the news.

  Elizabeth sidestepped her, grabbed her arm, and then slammed the woman off the island—face first.

  There was a thud, and then she hit the floor in a pile of limbs.

  Dakota went to move to her side.

  “Don’t,” Ethan stated. “You’re in so much trouble right now. Don’t make it worse.”

  Quinn handed Elizabeth her gun. “Thank you for not killing her. It’s a pain in my ass to do the paperwork in triplicate,” he stated.

  Ethan laughed. “I know the feeling.”

  Elizabeth holstered her sidearm with a wink at her husband. “Dakota Rakin, how funny is it that we met here?” she asked, crouching down in front of him as Ethan secured his cuffs.

  He said nothing.

  “Awww, darlin’, does the mean old pussy have your tongue?” she drawled.

  He closed his eyes.

  Yeah, he recognized that twang to her voice. All Dakota could think was it was done.

  He was done.

  The last two people he’d wanted to get wind of this case had, and he was about to get the boot.

  This sucked.

  “Okay, you win. Let me up, I’ll grab my partner and take her back to DC,” he stated. “Hopefully, she doesn’t have a concussion.”

  Elizabeth laughed.

  “Oh, that’s funny. Like we’re going to let you stroll out of here so you can be a pain in my ass back at your office. Not happening.”

  She looked over at the detective.

  “Arrest him, Quinn. I want him held for breaking into a crime scene, and I want her held on assault on a Federal agent.”

  Dakota began sputtering.

  He stared at her. “Really? Isn’t that a bit much?”

  Oh, she wasn’t done.

  “Toss in hindering an official case, and obstruction of justice for withholding information.”

  He went red.

  She defiantly crossed her arms. “You didn’t plan on telling us about this, did you?”

  His face said it all.

  “Quinn, lock him up. Transport Frick and Frack to FBI West. They’ve earned a spot in the tank.”

  “You can’t do this!”

  She pointed at him. “I can, and I am. You crossed a line, Dakota. You know there are rules. This case was flagged. Bonnie…she’s mine. The FBI will handle it. You’re the one who heads out with a warrant. She’s killing again, and that makes her my problem.”

  “Fine. I’ll back off.”

  NO ONE bought that.

  “Yeah, you have to. I’m having you thrown in jail. I think in there, you’ll be safe.”

  “From who?” he asked. “Bonnie?”

  Yes, but more importantly…

  “From yourself. You’re a menace, and your sidekick here is too. If I was a killer, I could have shot her right in the face. She’s just as reckless as you.”

  He stared incredulously at her.

  “You won’t arrest me. We have history.”

  Elizabeth didn’t care.

  There were times when you had to save those who had no damn common sense, and this man was one of them.

  “HAD. Now we have a mess. You’re the reason. You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you do it. Detective Gaines isn’t happy you lied to him.”

  Quinn wiggled his fingers in a wave.

  “Son of a bitch!” he muttered, just then recognizing the man.

  “He knows you?” he asked.

  She laughed. “His wife is a Fed, Dak. You tangled with the only Detective in Damascus who had a direct line to Ethan Blackhawk’s office. That’s a special kind of unlucky. Once more, you’re a menace to your own wellbeing.”

  He let out a torrent of profanity.

  He had the worst luck in the world.

  “Lyzbeth, I’m sorry. Come on.”

  She wasn’t having it.

  Dakota had a lot to learn.

  And it was time for school.

  Blackhawk University was now in session.

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

  FBI West

  Director Lane’s

  Office

  One Hour Later

  Ethan felt like he was having an out of body experience. He was sitting in the chair across from his old desk, staring into the face of one of his rivals.

  Miles Lane and he went way back—in fact, they went back to training all those years ago, when they’d both been starting out in the FBI. They’d been competitive then, and to that day, they were always trying to win.

  Truthfully, there was no love lost between them.

  Hate was an ugly word, but Ethan was pretty sure Miles would laugh over his dead body if given the chance. He had one adversary in the FBI, and here he was.

  They were not friends.

  They’d never be friends.

  Miles fancied himself smarter, faster, and better suited to be Deputy Director. In fact, when Ethan had been given the post, he’d been the one who complained the most.

  To say that Miles didn’t like him…it would be an understatement.

  The man would rather run him over with a car.

  “This is interesting,” Miles stated. “I never thought we’d be having a conversation about this.”

  Ethan sipped his coffee. “Well, the world works in mysterious ways.”

  “I hear you quit.”

  Ethan knew he was trying to rattle him. “No, I did double duty for almost seven weeks, and I needed a vacation. That whole day…it was refreshing. I’m glad I’m not human, and don’t need to adhere to those standards.”

  Miles didn’t laugh.

  “Why are you here, Blackhawk?”r />
  Ethan didn’t miss that the man wouldn’t, couldn’t, use his title. It was as if he’d choke on it.

  Fine.

  Two could play that game.

  “My wife is chasing a killer, and I’m playing profiler. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

  He didn’t speak.

  “Ah, you don’t want to say anything because I’m your boss. I get it. Let me tell you what you think.”

  Still, nothing.

  “I’m an Indian, and as far as you’re concerned, the boy’s club should have included you—not me. I couldn’t possibly be good at it since I didn’t grow up white, entitled, and born with a silver spoon in my mouth.”

  His jaw tensed.

  “I’m the epitome of everything you aren’t, and it makes you crazy to think you were overlooked, and I wasn’t. For the life of you, you can’t figure out why me. I couldn’t possibly be better suited for the job. You were born to rule the world.”

  His eyes flashed in anger.

  Yeah, he got it.

  Someone had his hate on.

  “Well, I am your boss, and I’m going to pull rank. You’re going to hate it, but that’s life. Whatever my wife needs, or I need to chase Bonnie, you’re going to give me. Tu casa es mi casa.”

  “Fine,” he answered.

  No, his house was not Ethan’s.

  Never.

  He’d made FBI West his.

  “And, if we ever have to work out of this office, you’re going to accommodate that too.”

  “Off the record?”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re an embarrassment to the job. You have sex with your brother, and you’re sharing a woman. There’s a time and a place for things like that, and it’s not in the public. People look at you and see this gay/straight/confused mess, and it makes all of us look bad.”

  He wasn’t shocked.

  Ethan had gotten plenty of flack over their relationship. They all did. Did it bother him?

  Yes, but that’s life.

  “My sex life is irrelevant,” Ethan stated.

  “No, it’s really not,” Miles shot back. “You’re all over the news, and now you’re all over the news having an affair.”

  Blackhawk laughed. “Yeah, the media made that shit up. I know who I stick my dick in, and it’s not my brother. It’s my wife. If you have an issue with polyandry, that’s your problem. We haven’t broken the law, and what happens in my bed, is my business.”

  The man said nothing.

  “Besides, you should talk.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Miles asked.

  “How’s your wife?” Ethan inquired, fixing his raven cuff links. While this might have been off the record, he wasn’t afraid to get a few shots in too.

  “We are divorcing.”

  “Yes, I heard you and your secretary like to meet in the one conference room so she can take dick-tation.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “I bet Jessifer is really good at making sure everything you spew is swallowed.”

  The man turned red.

  “Since you’re far from innocent, and actually cheating on your spouse, maybe you should worry about cleaning your house instead of what’s going on in mine. I created this place so you could have the luxury of playing king here. I didn’t want you for this position, but Gabe chose. If it were up to me, I would have picked someone else—anyone else more suited for the job.”

  Yeah, Greyson Croft had been his pick, but then he’d gone rogue and put a bullet in Dominic Marianna’s head. That ended that choice, and fast.

  “My wife is exclusive of how I do my job. I run it like I own it, and if you don’t meet my standards, you won’t be running a boat on a lake. Got it?”

  He was tense. “Yes, sir.”

  “You almost choked on that, huh?”

  Miles never expected this mess to bring this man to his building. Yes, he had to deal with him in meetings, and occasional face to face appointments, but this…?

  Yeah, he wasn’t happy.

  “It looks like you’re the one who is in control, Deputy Director Blackhawk.”

  “Yeah, funny how that works.”

  “What about the two US Marshals that you have handcuffed in interrogation?” he asked. “Are you holding them hostage?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, we Indians are like that. I’m on the warpath, and I have some scalps to collect.”

  This man didn’t need to know anything more than what he’d been privy to already.

  Loose lips sunk ships, and this man was flapping in the damn breeze.

  “Now, since we’re done here,” Ethan stated. “I think I’ll head down to Autopsy One. I miss the people who work here. Well, the ones you didn’t fire to erase me,” he stated, fixing his tie.

  Miles stood.

  There was no handshake.

  No smiles.

  These men hated each other, and that wouldn’t change.

  Well, until one day when Miles ran the FBI. Ethan would be out.

  Fast.

  Miles Lane was far from finished, and one day, he’d be the one with the power, and the last laugh.

  As his adversary headed out, Miles pulled a flask of whiskey from his desk. He chugged it.

  There was only one man on the Earth that could piss him off.

  It was Ethan Blackhawk

  His Nemesis.

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

  Autopsy One

  As they headed in, the place welcomed them like only this particular morgue could do. This was the house that the Blackhawks built, and they were stopping in to make sure it was still standing.

  Elizabeth was flanked by both Chris and Callen, and she didn’t doubt it was to keep her safe.

  In the morgue.

  Someone was being a tad bit over protective. They were making Ivan look laid back.

  And that was a feat in itself.

  Still, she let them do their thing while she did hers. It was time to get the autopsy results. Had Cannon Austin not been related by marriage to Chris, he would have been doing the autopsy. When it came down to it, she didn’t trust anyone but the people in her circle.

  No offense to Zane Legend, but he was now working under Miles Lane, and that wasn’t a necessarily a good thing. She’d heard some of the comments the man had made about her, Callen, and Ethan.

  There was no love lost there.

  All she could hope was her hiring and Chris’s training of the other ME were going to be enough to withstand any pressure from his boss.

  If not…

  Yeah, it would suck.

  Inside the room, Chris looked around.

  He.

  Was.

  Appalled.

  The place had been switched up, and clearly not in a way he thought was efficient. Zane was running it his way, and had tossed his training to the wind.

  “Don’t do it,” she muttered, the second he opened his mouth to make a comment. She already knew what was coming. Chris was very particular about his tools, his workspace, and his job.

  If you messed with any of the three, he would lose it. She recalled stealing his one tool to have it engraved for a birthday present.

  The man nearly tore their shared brownstone apart, driving her insane over a scalpel.

  When she presented him with it, she wasn’t sure how he’d react. After a week of meltdown, he was calm.

  Chris liked to keep his things pristine.

  Now he was thinking Zane defiled the space he’d lovingly put together.

  “I’m good,” he muttered.

  Great.

  They didn’t need to piss off an ME. That wouldn’t make their jobs any easier, since Chris couldn’t touch that body.

  As they headed in, Zane was walking toward them. “Elizabeth,” he said, smiling at her.

  She gave him a hug.

  “Zane! You look good, my friend. How are things going here?” she asked.

  “Great! I was wor
ried at first, but we have a good team in place. I mean, it’s not your team, but we can’t always be on that one, now can we?”

  Chris offered his hand.

  Zane shook it warmly. “Doctor Leonard, how are you?” he asked.

  “I’m good, Doctor Legend. Nice place you have here. I missed the well-organized chaos.”

  When Zane turned around, Elizabeth elbowed her best friend in the ribs.

  It stole his breath.

  Good.

  She wanted him to get the point.

  “Thanks. I’m sure it’s not set up how you like to work, but it works for me.”

  Chris rubbed his side as she gave him the look. Chris opted to zip it.

  For his own safety’s sake.

  “I hear you have a body for me,” Elizabeth stated. “It feels like old times.”

  Yes, it did.

  “I do have one, so if you’ll come this way.”

  They strolled toward the table, and there were techs standing there.

  Staring.

  “This is Penelope,” Zane stated. “She’s my head tech.”

  Elizabeth shook her hand and the woman continued to gawk.

  “You’re staring. Do I have something in my teeth?” she asked Chris, smiling for him.

  “You’re all good.”

  Elizabeth turned that icy gaze onto the woman. “BOO!”.

  She sputtered and dropped a tray.

  Callen elbowed her. “Stop scaring people. This is why people are always shooting at you!” he teased.

  It made her laugh.

  People shot at her because she was damn good at her job. In her line of work, if you didn’t wear the bull’s-eye, you weren’t worthy of the badge.

  “Zane, we want to get out of your hair, so just share what you found. I have two idiots in interrogation, and I want to make their life hell.”

  “Good thing some things never change,” he offered. “At least it’s not me you’re tormenting.”

  Elizabeth gave Chris the look, once more, warning him not to say a damn word.

  He kept it shut.

  That, in itself, was a miracle.

  Zane pulled the sheet back and there on the table was the dead man. His head was placed in foam blocks to cradle it.