True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3))

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Night Jimmy,” Sheila called from the other room. The minute the door closed behind her there was the sound of desk chair scraping the wooden floor.

  “Thanks for sending her home,” Julian Littlemoon said from the doorway.

  James Duffy laughed. “Rough afternoon?”

  “Oh yeah, it wasn’t pretty here while you were gone,” he answered, entering and sitting down in the spare chair. Julian Littlemoon liked his boss a great deal. Then again, he was pretty laid back for the only Native on staff. He rolled with just about everything, because he had to working there.

  “What did Sheila do?” he asked, almost afraid to have to deal with it. Along with being a gossip, Sheila tended to be a bit… bitchy.

  Julian Littlemoon was his eyes and ears when he wasn’t around. He trusted the man completely. When it came to being a deputy, he just had that innate skill to be present but be unseen. The very dark brown eyes missed nothing. Julian Littlemoon was good at blending into the crowd and finding things that went missing. If you needed something tracked down, ask Julian Littlemoon.

  He was your man.

  The irony behind it all was that Julian was imposing in size and you’d think he’d be the center of attention, especially since he didn’t really look like the rest of the community.

  “The mayor called this afternoon, to inform us that there have been a few complaints about the abandoned Boy Scout camp off the river.”

  “Vagrants?”

  “No, apparently there’s a smell.”

  James Duffy leaned back in his chair. “Okay, and what did Sheila say to him, or don’t I want to know?”

  Littlemoon laughed. “You probably don’t want to know. I did hear her tell him that he was more than welcome to come down Monday morning and talk to you personally about cutting the funding to the department.” Julian snickered at the look on his face.

  “Well shit that can’t be good,” he said, flipping through his missed call notes on his desk. “He called four times?”

  “About that many I suppose. I was out on patrol for a few hours.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  “Yeah those words came up too.” Julian saluted him and headed back out to his desk. He was off duty in less than two hours, and he hoped it wouldn’t drag by like it usually did. What he wouldn’t give for some excitement. Working on his Rez would be more exciting, than playing desk jockey on a snowy Sunday afternoon in Red River.

  Sheriff James Duffy weighed his options. If he pretended to not know that the mayor called, he was going to have to discipline Sheila and deal with the mayor in the morning. If he went out to the camp and snooped around before it got too dark, he could save Sheila’s job and a whole lot of bitching tomorrow.

  Yeah, he better do the responsible thing and head on out to the camp. With a sigh, he dropped his hat onto his head and grabbed his flashlight from on top of the file cabinet. Chances are it was a dead deer or a bear carcass from a poacher, but he’d check just in case. There were mountain lions out this time of the year, and often they had a carcass turn up. Last week’s warm up must have kicked up the decay.

  “Julian, want to ride shotgun for the next hour while we go look for the stink?”

  Two hours of boredom or an hour of looking for some decaying animal? Yep, he’d take the dead animal any day. “I’m with you, Sheriff. It has to be better than sitting here waiting for the snow to fall.”

  “Bring a shotgun, just in case we find some hungry animal that gets pissy that we’re snooping around its dinner.”

  “Got it sheriff. I’ll meet you out at the truck.”

  James Duffy wished all his employees were as easy going as Julian, or maybe the better wish would be that the other employees would just quit.

  Either way it was a win-win for him.

  The ride out to the old camp was a slow one. Now that nightfall was coming, it was making the roads freeze and the driving conditions treacherous. Maybe letting Sheila get shit canned by the mayor would have been a more favorable option after all. The fact they could die out on the road trying to find a dead animal rang of irony. Where had this day gone wrong? Oh yeah, he knew. It was when he came back into work.

  “Shit, it’s wicked out tonight, Boss.”

  Sheriff James Duffy agreed completely. “If this is some half eaten deer carcass, I swear I’m going to let Sheila tear the mayor a new one while I make popcorn and watch.”

  Julian Littlemoon laughed. “I’m pretty sure she won’t allow popcorn, because she hates the smell,” he added. “So you better pick up some snack item that she won’t scrunch her nose up at. Perhaps water?”

  The Sheriff laughed. “Okay, there’s the main building. Let’s start there and make the rounds,” he suggested.

  “Want to split up?” he asked.

  “Hell no, there’s only three buildings, and we have one shot gun. You think my pea shooter will take down a raging elk or a mad mountain lion?”

  “Way to think about self-preservation,” he answered, laughing and checking the chamber for shotgun shells.

  “It’s a proven fact that Nature goes for the white meat first.”

  Julian Littlemoon snickered. “It’s your cross to bear since you stole our land. Get over it,” he said, laughing.

  “Come on, let’s get this done and I’ll buy you a beer in town, Julian.”

  “Works for me, Boss,” he nodded, and walked with the man through the snow, hoping they didn’t encounter a confused bear that came out of hibernation early.

  Well, he did ask for excitement.

  Two buildings later, they were wet and believed the complaints and the Mayor were full of shit. Nothing smelled out there, but the reminiscent stench of wasted time that could have been more productively used elsewhere. Maybe it was the breeze blowing by and carrying any stink away from them, or maybe it was just the fact that there was nothing there to smell unless you had the nose of a bloodhound. As they approached the third and final building, they were glad they were almost finished.

  “Last one, Julian, and we get the hell out of here.”

  He looked around. “I think I finally smell something, Boss.” He stopped and sniffed the air, and looked at the building. “Something’s definitely dead in there.”

  “You must have a super nose my Indian friend. I smell pine, and now wet leather coat. That’s all my nose is picking up.”

  “No Boss, really. Something’s dead in there.”

  Sheriff James Duffy approached the door and still nothing. “Let’s get this done,” he said, pushing the door open and shining his flashlight into the darkness. Before he saw it, he was assaulted with the smell of dead body. Oh yeah, something was decaying.

  “Holy shit,” muttered his deputy, and then he saw the problem. Staring back at him wasn’t the carcass of a dead animal, but the dead sightless eyes of five men.

  Sheriff Duffy slammed the door. “About that beer, Julian.”

  “Yeah, better make it five. Suddenly one won’t cut it.”

  Monday Morning

  Elizabeth Blackhawk sat on the corner of her husband’s desk and sipped her coffee. They had both just been in a budget meeting, and she was still feeling the after effects. Tedium and using the phrase ‘bored to tears’ wouldn’t be too far from the truth at that point. What she needed was a good adrenaline rush, a trip to the field, and an assignment where she had to use her brain to find the killer and not add a bunch of numbers. That was pencil pusher bullshit, and she was a special agent for a reason. Her best skills were utilized in the field and not sitting on her ass.

  As she watched her husband leaf through a few papers on his desk, her mind immediately began to wander. There Ethan was in all his Native American glory. Sexy tan skin hidden under his well-fitted suit, and it didn’t even matter to her that he spent a small fortune on looking that good. The reward was all hers, since she was the one allowed to openly leer at her husband.

  Then she noticed he’d even forgotten to pull his jet
black hair back this morning. Oh yeah, what she wouldn’t do to run her fingers through the silky strands right now. It wasn’t lost on her that he was letting it grow in a little longer than he normally would. If she could just slip closer to him, then she could…

  “Elizabeth, really?” he said, looking up.

  “What?” She tried to feign innocence, but the look must have been all over her face. Mental note: perfect the poker face if you’re going to think wickedly, dirty thoughts about your husband in the workplace.

  Ethan Blackhawk grinned. “I can feel the lecherous stare from here.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m a little distracted by the fact that you didn’t pull you hair back today, and it’s getting longer. It’s very distracting, Mr. Blackhawk.”

  “I figured since I was embracing the return to my heritage; why not entertain my wife by growing it out.” Since marrying Elizabeth he’d found ways to secretly drive her wild. Every now and then, he’d let his hair free of the staunch ponytail he wore. Then sometimes he’d switch up his clothes. He preferred suits and all black in the workplace, but every now and then he’d pull out a white shirt and jeans. It was all to get her hot and bothered.

  “Yippee,” she said, enthusiastically. “I do declare, Cowboy, you just admitted that you’re culpable in making me leer.”

  He laughed at his wife. “Yesterday it was the fact I didn’t wear black to work, and the day before it was my new shiny boots. I’m beginning to think if nothing changes, you’ll blame my breathing.” Who was he kidding? Elizabeth leering gave him a sense of security, and he loved every second of her attention.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Your wife wants you, however do you sleep at night,” she retorted, grinning. “If I wasn’t pregnant,” she paused and he interjected before she could continue.

  “You’d still be doing the same exact thing.” Or so he hoped. It was silly, but there was always that little fear one day she’d realize she screwed up by marrying a simple Native from the Rez. The scars of the reservation still ran deep, despite the time he was away from it.

  Now she laughed, because he was exactly right. It wasn’t his or her fault that she was six months pregnant and the baby hormones were making her a sex fiend. “Well maybe for the next kid I won’t want sex.” Elizabeth threw it out there. “Livy told me for kids three thru five she didn’t have sex at all.” Then she lifted a brow. “That’s thirty months of no sex. I bet you’d stop bitching about me leering if that happened.”

  Just the idea worried him. “Thirty months of no sex?”

  “Think about that, Ethan.” Now she was grinning, because she managed to successfully turn it back on him. Score one for the slower, pregnant wife.

  Ethan leaned back in his chair, observing the woman perched on the corner of his desk. Yeah, she was beautiful, but the outside had nothing on the woman inside. She was kind, funny and so full of life. The woman before him was his salvation and so much more. They’d been married about nine months now, and every day was an adventure.

  Elizabeth LaRue Blackhawk had run him over in Salem, where she had been sheriff, and she continued to do the same thing here too. As co-directors to FBI West, the second biggest FBI hub in the country, she always kept him on his toes and so did the job. When Elizabeth knocked him off his feet, it only took four days and he proposed to her in hopes she’d say yes. When she did, he became the luckiest man alive. Now nine months later they were sitting in his office, sharing a job, expecting their first baby, and having a really good start at life together.

  “Now you're staring.”

  “I’m thinking about you being pregnant,” he replied, smiling. The baby bump was now prevalent, and his wife was still sexy as sin. In fact, her being pregnant drove him even wilder, if that was possible. Now he had more of a reason to be territorial and possessive. She was carrying his child. Yeah Elizabeth still wore her low ride jeans, gun strapped to her hip, but the new addition he purchased her was personally his favorite thing. Many times he teased her about the t-shirt that said ‘baby on board’, but she always looked mortified and threatened to slowly torture him.

  So, he went and got her right where he knew her heart lay- the belt buckle. For their anniversary two months ago, he had a belt buckle special ordered, and she wore it pretty much daily. It simply stated the truth.

  Momma.

  At first when she opened it, he wasn’t sure if she’d ever wear it. His surprise was that she was rarely without it. Well, that and she burst into tears and cried for ten minutes over it. To this day he still wasn’t sure if he did a good job, or the baby hormones took over.

  “I am definitely that,” she said, rubbing her hand over the bump lovingly. Gone were the button down shirts. Now she just wore stretchy ones that accentuated the life growing deep in her body. Fortunately for her and her ravenous appetite, baby Blackhawk was always hungry and she had only gained three pounds so far. With all the burgers she consumed, you’d think she’d be a bus, but she still was the same size. Maybe it was the fact she still forced her husband to run with her. Only he refused to let her do it outside, she might slip. Ethan had purchased them treadmills and they ran side-by-side every morning. It wasn’t the same thing, but she knew her very overprotective husband just wasn’t having it. The control freak had final say.

  Elizabeth watched her husband and wondered if he was going to take what she was going to say next well or lose his cool.

  “You have the look, Elizabeth. What’s bugging you? You went from ‘sex’ to perplexed.”

  Elizabeth considered her options.

  Blackhawk started to look concerned. “You can tell me anything, Lyzee baby. What’s wrong?”

  Honesty was the best policy, and they lived by that rule in their marriage. “At the last doctor appointment, they told me I’m completely healthy and the baby is doing really well.”

  “Yeah, I was there.” He lifted a brow, something big was coming. Elizabeth looked worried and usually she just said anything she thought, and whatever exploded around her exploded. If she was leading in with the baby, there was the intent to soften him up. Baby Blackhawk was his one big soft spot- well next to his wife.

  “I want to go back out in the field one last time before we have the baby.” There it was said and put out there for him and the universe. What’s the worst he could say?

  “No!”

  The only reason her husband was being a hard ass about it was because Thomas Mason, his crazy half-brother abducted her and tried to kill her and his unborn child. “Ethan, really. I need to do this, because I’ve sat here for four months being patient and a good director. It’s making me freaking insane! I feel like I need to shoot something.”

  He fought hard to not laugh. Yeah he could tell she was going stir crazy, only because he was too. “Downstairs is a target room. You can go shoot all the targets you want.”

  “Let’s go out one more time. You and me!” Elizabeth Blackhawk wiggled her eyebrows. “The Cowboy and Indian can ride again. Come on, baby. You know you want to,” she drawled, lecherously. “Take your wife out into the field and let her use her mind before the baby sucks all her brains from her head.”

  Now he did laugh, but still wasn’t going to budge. “I tell you what, you forget that idea all together and I’m willing to bribe you with something that will keep you occupied.”

  Now she was intrigued. “What kind of bribe?” Immediately her mind went to sex.

  Damn baby hormones. Damn sexy husband.

  “I’ll make sure you have burgers daily for lunch to start, and I won’t make any comments about the fat and calories.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Nope, I get those now. If you refuse to buy me them, I can skip down to the cafeteria, or make a minion do the dirty work. As for the fat and calories, you heard the doctor. I can eat whatever I want. Baby Blackhawk is a big boy and he’s sucking up all my food calories. Plus with our demanding jobs and still running, I’m underweight.”

  Okay, Elizabeth was goin
g to play hardball and that meant something bigger than food. “I’ll forgo the hair tie every day until you have the baby, and I won’t cut my hair until you tell me to do it. So it can be as long as you want.”

  “Callen and Wyler long?” Elizabeth had a thing for her brother-in-law’s hair. She was woman enough to admit it. Often she found herself just playing with it when Callen was near.

  “Yep, that’s the deal.”

  Oh yeah, that piqued her interest.

  Immediately, Elizabeth Blackhawk started fantasizing about her sexy, long-haired, native man with all the tribal art tattooed on his body and maybe a few braids.

  “Plus you can run your fingers through it whenever you want, and I won’t look mortified that you’re doing it. You know you like playing with it,” he grinned, salaciously.

  “Even in front of the staff?”

  Blackhawk tried to keep a straight face. “Even in front of Christina.”

  Elizabeth weighed the options and was about to give her answer when she heard the voice in the lobby. “He’s back!” she said excitedly, jumping off the desk and grabbing her husband’s hand and dragging him to the door.

  The tell-tale laughter meant only one thing.

  The Blackhawk three were back together again!

  ~ Chapter two ~

  Callen Whitefox was home. It had been a long four months in training, and it had been brutal. The classes, the qualifications, and then of course there was the survival training. Arrogantly he believed he’d have the upper hand, because he was a full blooded Native. Boy had he been wrong. The instructors were ready for him, and ran him through the ringer on a daily basis. For a while he wanted to quit, but he kept telling himself Elizabeth would kick his ass. After all, she survived training and ranked top of her class.