She didn't look amused that they were the butt of some joke. In fact, Lowry looked downright pissed.
Elizabeth jumped in to head off any oncoming explosion. “Hey, no one picked you. You should be proud. I really thought it was going to be Officer Marsh.”
“Why?” The man didn't look offended in the least.
“With all the donuts and shit Officer Murphy eats, I assumed he had a cast iron gut. I was way off. That didn't take long at all.”
Callen grinned and as usual he went with the silver lining of it all. “I’m glad I don’t have to see regurgitated raspberry filled donuts. It would ruin it. They were damn tasty.”
Gena Lowry stared at them, trying to figure out if they were serious. “You’re a weird bunch of people,” she stated.
Elizabeth shrugged. “When you have to see five or more autopsies a week, you try and find something less miserable to focus on at the time. We’re trying to keep our sanity in a world of lunacy. Don’t read into it too much, Chief Lowry.”
At the sloshing sound, they all focused on Chris. His hand was in the jar and he was feeling around for anything metallic. He began pulling out anything that had some substance to it. “Well, most of the food is dissolved, but I found a piece of gum,” he said, holding it up. “She must have been chewing it before she was taken.”
Now officer number two was beginning to look a little grossed out.
He went back to stirring up the contents as he felt for anything hard. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we don’t have anything.”
Ethan made a mental note of it all, trying to relate it to his profile. “So, on this one, we don’t have a necklace. That’s odd.” He knew that a killer didn't switch up mid kill.
Patrick Parrish finally spoke, “Maybe he’s keeping them as a souvenir? Isn’t that something killers do?”
Elizabeth made note of it. “He could be.”
Chris sealed up the jar for testing. “Boss, I’m going to do the boring stuff now. If you want to head out, I’ll be here working on it, and I’ll update you later as soon as I have something to report.”
She was appreciative of that. “We have some interviews to handle, so we’re heading to the shop where Scarlet Red worked and then the Church of Satan. If you need us, we’ll be in the field.”
Chris glanced nervously at Cyra. If there were two interviews and just as many teams, that meant that Rickard would be alone with her. “All of you?”
Ethan took over. “The situation we discussed has been handled.”
There was immediate relief on his face. “Thank you,” he answered as the tension left his body.
“That’s what friends are for, darlin’,” Elizabeth replied. “Tag us if you find anything that’s pertinent.”
“Can we stay and watch the rest of the autopsy?” Lowry questioned, hoping that they would get the okay.
Chris didn't mind either way. Now, he could focus on the body and not be worried about Thomas Rickard. “I don’t mind the company. I’m accustomed to having someone talk as I work. My partner, Doctor Magnus, never shuts up, so have at it.”
The Feds walked out and passed a sick looking man sitting on the floor.
“Hey, you okay?” Blackhawk asked, trying not to find humor in the man’s discomfort.
He nodded. “I’m not doing an autopsy again, until it’s my own.”
Elizabeth found that funny. Where to even take that one? Patting him on the shoulder, she offered him reassurance. “You aren’t the first or last to lose breakfast over stomach contents. Shake it off. With things like this, it’s best to get back on the horse as soon as you fall off. He’s carving up a liver like a Christmas ham right now. You better get back in there. Mmmmmm,” she teased.
He looked like he was going to toss more.
As they walked away, Ethan started laughing. “I’m so glad you love me as much as you do.”
“Why?” she asked.
Callen finished for him, since they were both thinking the same thing, “Because you can be one mean, sadistic bitch.”
Even Cyra found that funny.
Elizabeth’s melodious laughter filled the hall.
“Yeah, I know.”
On the drive over there, Elizabeth opted to sit in the back with Cyra. Not because she wanted to, but simply because it was time for a little girl talk.
The woman looked like hell, and she doubted it had anything to do with the sex.
No one looked this sad after sex, ever.
“Spill it,” she stated, staring at Cyra. “You look like you want to cry and that’s not going to work in interviews all day. Now is your chance to get it all off your chest and feel better.”
She wasn’t sure if she should or not.
“This isn’t your boss talking. This is a car ride with three people that care about you and Chris. So, dump it all over us and you’ll feel better.”
“I don’t know what I did. It was a really, really, really amazing night filled with fantastic sex.”
Elizabeth cringed. “Okay, no details on Chris’s sex life. I’ve had to work with him for eleven years, and I don’t need to picture him in my head like some studly fornicator.”
Both men laughed at the term.
Cyra broke a little and smiled. “We were good and then all the sudden he was pulling away. He won’t even look at me, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Elizabeth knew the man very well, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had him stirred up. “Chris is a very smart man. He’s got a very high IQ and is a scientist through and through. When you overheard him telling us about his mother, it freaked him out.”
“Why? I don’t care what his mother does or believes.”
“He built this façade of what he thinks the world expects from him. He plays in dead bodies all day; he’s serious and never screws around. When he’s around us, we see the real him, because we’re safe. You’re new yet, and he doesn’t know how to react. Had you not been in the room, he would have stopped the autopsy and picked a puker. Right now, you have him all stirred up and out of step.”
She thought about it. “I want him to be himself. I happen to like the man he is, inside and out.”
“I’ve only seen him like this once before over a woman,” she offered, thinking back to their last company party.
That didn't sit well with her. She wanted to be the only woman in his life who ever made him feel like this. It’s how she felt about him. “When?”
“The day after the Christmas party when he didn't go home with you.”
She didn't know what to say. Obviously, Elizabeth knew what happened. “I see.”
“Don’t get upset. I went to him and forced it out of him. I’m good like that.”
“Guantanamo,” Callen muttered and covered it with a cough.
She didn't miss a beat and gave his hair a rough yank before continuing. “You make him lose his ordered self. When you stir him up, he’s confused as hell. You should feel lucky that you have that power over him. Christopher Leonard isn’t an easy one to rattle. We’ve seen a lot of death with drug dealers, prostitutes, children and everything else that’s bad out there in the world. The man is a stone wall when it comes to getting worked up.”
She did kind of like that idea that he was out of step, and it was because of her. At least they had something in common, because she was a mess inside. “What do I do?”
“Give him some time to find his footing. He’ll rationalize it, figure it out, and then find you. Until then, it’ll be okay. Men figure it out one way or another, and if they don’t, the powers that be will step in and set it right.”
Ethan glanced up at his wife in the mirror and winked at her. Sometimes, those higher powers were Cupid’s helper.
She blew him a silent kiss.
“Thank you for letting me get it off my chest. I’m glad Chris has you to come to when he’s worked up.”
Elizabeth patted her on the shoulder. “Yeah, well if you’re going to be shac
ked up with one of my oldest friends, you have that same luxury.”
Oddly, that scared the hell out of her…
Wednesday Noon
Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she was expecting in ‘Mystic Memorabilia’, but it was definitely aptly named. They opted to wander the place as shoppers, before asking any questions. Sometimes, it was better to observe than kick in the door like they were on fire, and this was one of those times.
Besides, the place smelled really good. There was something burning, and it appealed to Elizabeth. As she walked around, the candles and the eclectic music seemed soothing.
“What are you thinking?” Ethan whispered, watching his wife. Her demeanor had changed as she entered the building. Usually, she went balls to the wall for an interview but now she seemed subdued.
“I really like the way it smells in here,” she answered. “I feel calm.”
Well, hell. If that were the case, he was buying whatever was in the air. They could burn it in their home, car and office.
She glanced over at him. “It also makes me want to not have sex,” she added, already well aware of what he was thinking by the look on his face.
Ethan swallowed.
Yeah, now the smirk was gone.
Callen stood off by the necklaces and was checking out the pretty jeweled ones. For some reason, they seemed to draw his attention. When a young woman walked up to him and touched his arm, he stared down at her.
“Are you interested in a protection necklace?” she asked, pointing at them as they hung in the light.
Is that what they were? Suddenly, that seemed like a really good idea. When dealing with Halloween and witches, why not use their own mojo against them? That might be his new motto while in Circle Rock. “Yes, I really am. The dark haired woman is my partner, and I’d like to pick the perfect one. I want to give her one for added protection.”
The woman touched one with blue stones. “After the artist makes them, we bless them in a circle ceremony. Each one means something different. Which one calls to you?” she inquired curiously.
Callen stared at the ten different ones until one caught his attention most. Reaching out, he ran his fingers over it. “This one.”
She smiled serenely. “The symbols stand for love, protection and undying devotion.”
“I’ll take it.” He pulled his credit card out and handed it to her. “Can you be sneaky about it? I want to give it to her as a gift, and she’s hard to surprise.”
“I can,” she answered. “It will keep her safe as she chases the man that wants her soul.”
When she walked away, Callen stared, unsure what to say. When they walked in, they didn't announce that they were the FBI. They opted to scope it out. The woman’s words wouldn’t have even fazed him, if it wasn’t for the soul part scaring him shitless. Was that some witchy mojo or did they just know they were the Feds? He tried to not think about it too much.
For now, he’d worry about what mattered most, and that was keeping Elizabeth safe. He glanced across the store with nothing but adoration in his heart. Silently, he prayed to his grandfather that the necklace would be enough.
Ethan wandered the store and found himself drawn to a glass case that was full of baubles. He glanced up as a man approached him.
“You worry about your heart.”
He stared at him. “I’m sorry?”
“You have deep fears that you will lose your heart and not in the sense of falling in love.”
Okay, for now he would go with it. When in a witch shop, allow them to do their voodoo. “Yes I am.” After all, it was the truth. Every second, he was scared that he’d miss something and their wife would slip through his fingers.
“You wish to protect her at all cost. Would you like to give her a ring that will give her that extra protection?”
He didn't buy into the witchcraft nonsense. It was nothing more than bullshit, but he’d entertain it, just in case.
The man in the long robes continued, as if he sensed Ethan needed more proof. “You fear what chases her because you don’t see its face. What you want more than anything is to make her go home.”
Ethan gave no response either way. When it came down to it, he was the king of no emotion on the outside.
“You should know that it also chases what weakens her. It will break her heart.”
Over his cold dead body was that ever going to happen.
“I’ll take a ring. I want one that symbolizes protection.” Why not go with it? After all, they were pretty baubles. Blackhawk refused to let his fears get the best of him. It was all some trickery.
“I suggest this one and perhaps one for you too?”
Ethan held it in his hand and stared at it. It was shiny silver with blue stones. “No thank you. The only ring I’ll ever wear is my wedding band. It gives me all the protection I will ever need. As for the ring, can you wrap it up? I want to surprise her later.”
The man simply nodded as he prepared to take the present off to be packed away. “You and your brother will be able to keep your shared heart. Have faith in the raven.” With that, he nodded and walked away.
Ethan watched him go as his stomach began flipping. Where they might know that he and Callen were siblings, they wouldn’t know that they called Elizabeth their protective raven. That was the family’s secret.
Then he was reminded that one other person knew that too, and he was after Elizabeth.
His heart began to pound, and Ethan had no doubt that he needed to get her away from this whole town.
Before it was too late.
Elizabeth stood beside the display of pretty wind chime and was finding that she was enthralled by them. They had beckoned to her the second she entered the shop. The artistic lines and pretty glass called to her, much like the first day that she had walked into Timothy Blackhawk’s cabin and found the collected stones from Ethan’s youth.
“You wish to pick one for your home?” asked the pretty red head.
She stared over. “I’m thinking about it. They remind me of someone.”
The woman took her hand in hers. “You loved him and still do. He hasn’t crossed yet and is still waiting for one last thing.”
Elizabeth didn't reply to that. She wasn’t into Pagan craziness and gypsy fortune telling. The sole purpose was to lure you in to buy something and nothing more.
“You think of him often, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she answered. He was one of the loves of her life, and Elizabeth missed him. The long gray braids, the gentle smile, and how he always just knew when to call. Timothy took a piece of her heart with him when they lost him. It had been almost eighteen months and every day still hurt.
“He talks to you.”
Okay, Elizabeth was beginning to get nervous.
“When the world is silent, or you slip into slumber, you hear from him from the beyond.”
“What do you mean?”
She pointed at the wind chimes. “Samhain comes and the veil between the dead and the living is the thinnest. You will be able to feel him close more so now than ever. If you seek, you will find.”
It wasn’t easy to keep a blank face. When it came to Timothy, he was one of her emotional buttons. Push it, and she could and would break down.
That was a given.
“I would like to give you a set as a gift. I want it to have meaning for you.”
“I’ll buy one, but I’ll let you pick.” She was curious as to where the woman was heading with this.
The redhead stood in front of them and stared into her eyes. “You have three children and not all from your womb, but they are yours regardless. I choose the one with the three carved glass panels that resemble feathers. I believe the dark blue glass reminds you of your husband’s eyes.”
Okay, commence freak out.
Elizabeth nodded. While people could research the number of kids, no one knew Catherine wasn’t hers.
NO ONE.
They buried that one deep. In order to fi
nd the truth on that, they would have to know Desdemona’s name and the city where Catherine was born.
The redhead stared, waiting for the question.
“How did you know?” she whispered as panic began rising.
The woman touched her cheek. “Be calm. The old man with braids that follows you told me. He specifically picked it for you.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears as she looked around, dying to see him again.
“I’ll wrap this up, raven. You should have it for your stone fortress.”
She simply nodded and was scared out of her mind. Softly, she whispered. “Granddad, are you here?”
At first there was nothing, and then she heard the soft tinkling of wind chimes. She turned to stare at them, hoping to find someone touching them.
But no one was there.
Not anyone they could see.
Immediately there was a breeze across her forehead, almost like a gentle kiss. The terror dissolved and was replaced with nothing but absolute peace. Elizabeth closed her eyes.
“I know you’re here, Granddad. Thank you.”
Cyra stood beside a wall full of beautifully decorated scarves. Each one was hand painted in symbols that she couldn’t even begin to understand. Maybe it was her love of beautiful things that drew her there, and she was willing to admit it. Cyra was a girly girl. Nothing made her happier than pretty things and trinkets that sparkled.
As she had walked around, observing the shop like Elizabeth had wanted, she noticed that they all were shopping.
So, why not join them?
“Do you look to buy something for yourself?” The man asked, pointing at the scarves.
“Yes, they’re really pretty. What do the symbols mean?” she asked, admiring the swirls of color and silver markings.
“Each has a different meaning. Which one calls to you? If you pick it, I will translate the symbols.”
Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7) Page 23