Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7)

by Kelley, Morgan

  They were all connected around the photo and the one woman in it. She’d been the reason her three friends were killed and then the priestess too. This man was a complete and total stalker. “Why my wife?”

  “She’s amazing. The minute I saw her on TV, I just had to have her. Elizabeth is the reason for all of this. I couldn’t meet her unless I got her to come to me. She’s the reason I had to kill them.”

  Yeah, this man wasn’t all there.

  “I didn't believe that she would actually come, but I promised the dark Lord that if he brought her here, I wouldn’t touch the other women. She would be my ultimate prize, and his perfect sacrifice. Even though I wanted to use Harmony one last time, I took it as a sign that she didn't stir my body like she once had done.”

  Blackhawk was pretty sure the Viagra that Arlen James was slipping everyone had something to do with it. The man was likely impotent without the aid of the drugs.

  “The devil will reward me for giving him such a great sacrifice. The news called her the best that the FBI had to offer. I can’t wait to get her on my altar and have hours of fun with her.”

  “If I get out of here, I’m going to kill you,” Ethan said honestly.

  He laughed kicking the box. “This is pine. You’re going to die in there, but thank you for the warning.”

  Ethan wanted to tell him pine was a soft wood, but he decided to surprise him when he took his life for even thinking about his woman.

  “If you’re going to make an offering to the devil, she has to be beautiful and smart. He doesn’t want second rate. I won’t be carving a pentagram in her body, so don’t worry. Maybe I’ll keep her in a box too, so I can keep her forever.”

  It was apparent that they were working with someone a few bricks short of a full load. How he functioned at work, it was beyond Ethan. Then again, he thought back to the missing pentacle. “One question,” he began.

  “Yes?”

  “Was the pentacle that our ME found yours or the witch’s?”

  “That bitch ripped it from my neck and must have swallowed it. It was a gift from Harmony. When your medical examiner found it, I was sick to my stomach.”

  “And the locations?”

  The man laughed. “I told you all from the start. I left you a map to the final killing. Elizabeth just has to be smart enough to find me.”

  “She’s going to stop you,” Blackhawk promised. “Then she’s going to send you on your merry way to meet your beloved Satan.

  “I gave the devil four witches and a priestess. Now, I’m going to give him a raven haired Goddess. I think that should get me plenty of power and protection. I am going to live a long time with his blessing.”

  Yeah, he wouldn’t bet on that.

  His wife was going to send him right to hell.

  Callen was mulling it over as they scanned the gym information that had arrived in Ethan’s email. “I don’t think that it’s Clifford. He’s scrawny. Chris is bigger than him and I don’t think that he could carry or drag me. Ethan is a few pounds lighter, but he’s bulky with muscles.”

  “I couldn’t carry either of you, but I could drag you for a short distance,” he added.

  “I’m leaning towards Patrick Parrish,” Callen stated.

  Elizabeth needed each of their opinions. She already knew which man her gut was telling her was guilty. “Cyra, who would you pick?”

  “I think it’s the ME. He just screams creepy killer.”

  Chris objected. “Hey!”

  She patted his leg. “I also think it’s him because of that first clue. I think that necklace has something to do with it. My gut is screaming about it still. I don’t think that he knew that she swallowed it, or he would have done the Y-incision. He would have wanted to find it.”

  Elizabeth had to agree. “I say it’s Parrish too. He just feels off to me. We asked him for some office space, he offered up room twelve specifically. Maybe he already had a key. I also don’t buy the incompetence thing with the necklace and the partial autopsy. I, too, believe that he didn't know it was there or didn't really care.”

  As her phone began ringing, she glanced down at the number. Hitting answer, she waited.

  “Lyzee, I have your information for you. It’s registered to the police and ME’s office.”

  Well shit, that didn't answer either question. It could still be Patrick Parrish or Clifford bean. “Thank you, Gabe, I appreciate it.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need me to come there?”

  She stared at her watch. “No. We’re almost out of time. I have to go, Gabe. I’ll call you after I kill this asshole.”

  “Be safe, Lyzee,” he stated.

  Cyra watched her. “You’re not going to bring him in are you?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not even going to pretend or lie to you. I’m going to be honest. Not only has he taken our partner, but he’s criminally insane and won’t get the chair for any of this. He’ll be found incompetent to go to trial, and if for some miracle he does, he touched all the evidence.”

  “We could re-do it,” Cyra stated, not sure how she felt about the ‘eye for an eye’ mentality.

  “If you have a problem, you should go. I don’t want you and Chris to compromise any morals that you have on this. I care too much about my friend to make him wear a target on this.”

  She didn't understand and her face must have said as much.

  Chris took her hand in his. “If this goes to trial, they’re going to rake me over the coals. I’m the ME and I run that lab. I let the killer taint everything. Even if I couldn’t have known, the defense will make me look like an idiot. They’re going to pull up any and everything they can find on me personally and professionally. When I first started out as an ME, I made mistakes. I helped lose a big case by guessing and taking shortcuts. When that hits the light of day, it’s going to add to it that I didn't do my job.”

  Cyra thought back to her brother and some of the things that he had done to cause doubt in a jury’s mind.

  “Including my mother, Cyra,” Chris added. “It’s a witch case and my mom’s a nutjob, I’m dating one of the investigators, and my best friend’s husband has been abducted.”

  Elizabeth reached over and reassuringly patted his knee. “I’ll take the blame on all this. If anyone on this team ends up under scrutiny for this, I’m going to own it all. If anyone asks, I forced you and threatened everyone. I’ll worry about my ass later.”

  Callen didn't like that at all.

  “Some lousy ambulance chasing attorney, who likes to spring criminals, will be trying to make us all feel sorry for him. Plus, he’ll allude to the court that my ME is an idiot for not knowing that the man working beside him was homicidal.”

  “That case I lost,” Chris began, “It was one of Lyzee’s big ones when she was just starting out. My screw up tarnished us both.” He placed his hand over Elizabeth’s on his knee. He appreciated her support and for not holding a grudge years ago. Her friendship was priceless.

  Cyra looked back and forth between Chris and her boss before making her decision. “I’m staying.”

  Elizabeth let out the breath she was holding. “If it makes you feel any better. I’ll only be shooting him if he tries to attack me. If he comes at me unarmed, I’m going to kick the shit out of him instead.”

  And she would.

  No one wanted to think that taking the life of a murderer was a justifiable outcome, but it was what was likely going to happen.

  As if on cue, the dog walked over to Elizabeth and licked her face. Apparently, he didn't mind vengeance in the least.

  “Rex is an excellent judge of character, Elizabeth. I trust him to tell me who the good guy is,” Cyra stated.

  Elizabeth relaxed. Suddenly, the man beside her practically shouted. It caused them all to jump and Rex to growl.

  “I found him!” exclaimed Callen. He handed the gym membership paper to Elizabeth, and knew when she discovered the name too.

  “We have
Patrick Parrish leading the pack. See if you can find Clifford Bean on the list,” she asked, handing it back to him.

  Standing, she walked to the map and stared at it. She really needed and address and a small miracle at this point. Time was running out.

  Closing her eyes, she sent out some energy to her husband. “Hang in there, Ethan. I’m coming for you, love bug. I promise.”

  Callen glanced back up from the list. “There’s no Clifford Bean on the membership. You need to make the gut decision. Do we keep searching for the other suspects or go with Parrish? We need to narrow our focus on this.”

  She took a deep breath and let go of all the stress and pain in her heart. Now, she was going to do what she excelled at in life.

  She was a cop to her bones.

  “I say we assume that it’s Parrish, and we wait for anything to say otherwise. We’re going to focus on where this asshole is hiding out and bring Ethan home.”

  Her last thought was a prayer that he would be alive.

  Ethan knew he was in trouble when the man had a hole just about done for him. He’d had to be working on it a while. There was no way he could dig it all in one night, or it could be that he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

  Peeking through a crack, he could tell that it wasn’t the standard sized grave, but it was big enough that he hoped he could still dig his way out.

  When he slid the box in, it fell with a thud and jostled Ethan around. The way his body was hurting from the torture, he almost passed out from the pain. Once more, he fought to stay awake as he prayed that he was strong enough to win over the need to hide from the pain.

  There was sick laughter from outside the makeshift box. “Oops, sorry about that, Director Blackhawk. I hope that didn't kill you. It takes the fun out of burying someone alive, if you screw up and murder them beforehand.”

  “You’re a dick,” he hissed, rolling over from his chest. The vicious slashes and cuts on his stomach began bleeding again as his vision wavered.

  He had to stay awake.

  Ethan fought with all he had in him.

  ‘Please don’t go under’, he prayed. If he passed out, he was officially dead.

  There were shovelfuls of dirt being dropped onto the top of the makeshift coffin. Some of it fell through the tiny cracks.

  Ethan felt the need to panic rise up, but he forced himself to be calm and take slow even breaths. Once the dirt covered the box, he’d have an hour to break through the pine and start digging his way to the top.

  Getting onto his knees, he began using his back to lift up, hoping to crack some boards or release some nails while there wasn’t too much weight on the wood. Hopefully, the dirt hitting the box would cover his intentions. If Ethan could just loosen it up, he could then break through and displace enough dirt to climb his way up.

  As he pushed, the pain overwhelmed him and the wood slightly gave way. It must have released a little bit as the box was dropped into the hole.

  His mistake would be Ethan’s victory.

  All that he could hope now was that he was strong enough for that one last effort to save his life.

  He really didn't want to die.

  Callen stared at the five dots on the map while the rest of the team was running any information they could on Patrick Parrish. The man had a home, but it was a refurbished condo in the center of the town. They now understood why he was using other locations. You couldn’t really have a ritual sacrifice in the middle of the parking lot, unless your goal was to freak the entire neighborhood out.

  That meant that they had to look for him somewhere else. To Callen, those dots meant something, and he wasn’t going to give up quite yet. They knew they were running out of time, but he didn't care. That map had to matter.

  His gut told him so.

  It was a huge gamble.

  “What if it’s a shape?” he said, talking to himself. Maybe, it all connected into a square or possibly a circle. Running his fingers over it, he knew neither would work.

  Then he heard it. It was the soft tinkle of wind chimes. He turned to stare at Elizabeth, who was working on the bed. She obviously didn't even register it.

  Glancing over to Cyra and Chris, they too didn't move a muscle.

  Then he looked at Rex, just as it happened again, and this time his ears moved, trying to locate the sound.

  The wind chimes had to be a sign from their grandfather. Then he thought back to his dream and the parting words from the old man.

  Look for the star and the truth will be the center.

  Callen grabbed the nearest marker and did just that. “I know how he’s picked his locations!” he yelled, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s a pentagram! He picked the crime scenes according to each point of the star and Ethan’s going to be in the center. That’s where his final showdown is meant to be with you, Lyzee.”

  Cyra came over along with Chris and Elizabeth.

  “How do you figure that out, Callen?” Cyra asked.

  Callen went in for broke on his answer, and didn't hold back any of the truth. “My grandfather came to me in a dream the other night. I asked him how to find the killer, and he told me.”

  “We’re going by a dream?” Cyra asked. “Really? What if it’s wrong? We have one shot at this.”

  Callen glanced over at the woman he loved. “I’m not wrong. Please, you have to trust me on this. It feels right in my gut. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, other than us.”

  Elizabeth was torn. They were running out of time, and they didn't have anything else to go on. “We trust Cal’s gut and we get that location. Pull up the map and start giving me what’s dead center.”

  It was official. Cyra now believed that her boss was insane. They were going to base Ethan’s survival off a dream and a marker drawn star. “Okay,” she said, pulling the map up. When you zoon into that area, you have some highways.”

  “No, he’ll need privacy. He’ll want a place to build an altar and keep Ethan held until he can deal with me.”

  She kept looking. “There is a lot of state game lands there.”

  Again, she didn't think he’d pick that first. “What else do we have?”

  “There is one rest stop that the state lost funding for, and it’s closed down. It’s right off the highway. Other than that, you’re looking at acres of hunting lands.”

  “That has to be it. It’s going to be secluded and there’s land behind it. He’ll have it mapped and ready for his needs.”

  “When do we move?” Callen asked.

  Elizabeth looked at her watch. “We have three hours until he plans on making the sacrifice. I don’t think that he’s going to release Ethan, so we need to go in early as we can and search.”

  “Want us to take in back up?” Cyra asked, pretty sure that she already knew the answer to that one.

  “No. In fact, Chris and Cyra, you stay here. Callen and I will go in,” she said, pulling clothes out of her suitcase. She would need dark colors as she headed out to stalk a killer.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Chris stated. “Ethan may need medical help. I’m going to be the only one that can offer him that if he’s hurt. Until we can transport him to a hospital, I might be all that stands between him and dying.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t willing to risk his life. “Okay, but you need your sidearm and to be in Kevlar. I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Okay.”

  “Cyra, I’m going to assume you’re going to want to come too,” Elizabeth stated.

  “I’m coming and so is Rex. We may have to search the woods, and he can track if you give me a shirt that Ethan has worn.”

  The dog barked at his name.

  Elizabeth was all for that. She moved to her husband’s suitcase and pulled out one of his favorite tailored ones. Running her fingers over the collar, Elizabeth swore that she would never complain about him only wearing black again if she just got him back. “Here,” she said, handing it to Cyra.

 
They rushed out of the room to go get ready.

  Callen hugged her, knowing what was going on in her mind. “Shhhhh angel, we’re bringing him home. The hard part is over. Now, we just go in and collect our family.”

  She nodded, holding onto a man that had been her surrogate strength while Ethan was gone. “Thank you, Callen, for holding up and for never once giving up. Your brother is going to be so proud of you.”

  He kissed her gently and was glad that he could give her what she needed while they were missing their partner. Releasing her, he reached into his back pocket to hand her the magazine to her gun. “I took it just in case.”

  She understood why he did it. “I don’t blame you. I would have done the same.”

  “Are you ready to do this, Angel?”

  She offered him a fist bump and began stripping. “Yeah, I am, Cal. Let’s finish this here and now.”

  Ethan had been working at it for a while. There was enough give that he could feel the hundreds of pounds of dirt shifting and making the wood creek. Now it was a matter of making a small hole in the wood and packing the dirt down beneath him as it fell inside. It was going to be tedious, but this was the part that counted the most. He would have to displace as much soil in one area, and then use the weakness to burrow his way out.

  Using his feet, he pushed on the one pine board and it shifted enough that he could get his fingers in the one crack. Pulling down, he felt it start to give. Finally, it cracked and soil began falling into the makeshift coffin. Quickly, he began shoveling the dirt behind him, hoping to fill the space and then start his climb to freedom.

  Oh, wouldn’t Patrick Parrish be surprised when he came for him and took his life.

  Ethan patted down the dirt and tried to keep his breathing even and calm. He knew that once he started to get tired, that meant it was time to dig up and get free.