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

by Kelley, Morgan

  “You needed me, Boss?” he asked, dropping down into the chair in front of the desk.

  “While you were off, we had a little incident,” he told the man what happened with Bobby Lee and the female agent. He expected amusement, but what he didn’t expect was the full-blown uproarious laughter.

  “She beat him down, huh? I’d like to feel bad for him, but every racist bigot has his day, and he deserved it. I think I may like to shake her hand,” he said still laughing. “It’s pretty sad when a pregnant woman can kick your ass. He should retire and contemplate not tossing around the word ‘Indian’.”

  Well that answered his question. Elizabeth Blackhawk had apparently been correct. Natives didn’t like the word ‘Indian’. “He’s going to jail if I don’t talk the FBI agents down from the cliff.”

  Littlemoon shrugged. “If some knife wielding wacko came at my woman, I’d kill him or want him in jail too. I can’t blame the FBI agent.”

  Sheriff Duffy sighed. “I have a problem that needs your finesse.”

  “You want me to hold him down while they beat the hell out of Bobby lee? Sold. Sign me up and I’m ready. I’ll do it without pay too.”

  “No, I need you to find him. When they transported him to the hospital to be patched up, he made a break for it. Once I tell Director Blackhawk he’s going to kick my ass instead.”

  “You’re telling me the pregnant FBI agent beat him up that bad that he needed hospital care?” Now he was laughing hysterically again.

  “Julian, listen. He escaped and the FBI agents are going to be downright pissed when they get here. I need you to track him, find him, and bring him in for arrest.”

  Julian would do it, because his boss was in a bind, and because he really disliked the deputy. It would give him pleasure to track him and drag him in to get arrested. “I’ll handle it, Boss,” he said leaving, but he didn’t plan on wiping the smile off his face. This was like a late Christmas present. The biggest staff bigot was on the lam.

  Priceless.

  James Duffy sat there rubbing his temples as his deputy left his office. The headache wasn’t easing in the least. If he were lucky Bobby Lee would turn himself in, or Julian would find him. Then it just might appease the FBI agents.

  “What do we know for sure? Let’s recap it before we head back into the office. I want to make sure we can update the sheriff with as much information as possible. I don’t need him crying to Gabe that I was uncooperative after his deputy tried to assault two of our team.” Blackhawk had calmed down, and was now willing to play nice, as long as Tills was going to be handled by the sheriff.

  Desdemona went first. “As I said, all the bodies had one injury and each one had a role to play in their death. The victims with the missing hands and feet-the cuts were from a saw that was manually controlled. Not a power one.”

  “How can you tell?” asked Whitefox.

  “Uneven strokes. It was like the killer started and stopped, and then started and stopped numerous times. I can also tell you the bodies were definitely on their backs restrained. I found ligature cuff marks on the men with hands and feet, and the bodies without the appendages, I found strap marks running across their torsos.” Desdemona drew an imaginary line across Callen Whitefox’s chest to demonstrate.

  “So they weren’t dead; they weren’t able to escape and they were alive.”

  “Victim four asphyxiated on his own blood.” She thought back to it. “He had blood in his lungs, and his eyes were definitely blood shot. When I opened him up, he had hemorrhaging in the lungs too, and that’s another sign.”

  “So the killer took out his tongue, and then duct taped him?”

  “What the killer used is still up for the techs to determine. They took samples of the adhesive and they’re running it now.”

  Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “Any sexual assault?” She really needed a baseline if this was a man or woman.

  “On one thru four, nada. I can give you my answer on the last one when I finish up the autopsy.”

  Elizabeth looked over at her husband. “Okay, so what do you have in the ways of a profile?” She knew he was only in the beginning stages, but he’d point her in a direction.

  “Since there isn't any sexual assault, I’m going to go with female. It’s my gut to go the other way, and I don’t know if it’s because more men are killers than females, or if I’m just bothered by a woman being a predator.”

  “A woman as a killer bothers me too,” added Whitefox, struggling to accept it.

  “Why?” inquired Elizabeth.

  Whitefox shrugged. “Women are the delicate ones, the gentle ones and I don’t like to think of them as killers.”

  Elizabeth looked at him and didn’t speak. She’d taken a few lives in her time. The man that was trying to kill her best friend Livy years ago, her own half-brother and would have been her victim if she could have. Then there was the illegitimate Blackhawk that was going to kill the men in her life on the Rez. She’d taken him out and not thought twice. This obviously spoke volumes about how ‘delicate’ she seemed.

  Blackhawk cleared his throat, signaling to his brother that this was a bad avenue to take. He knew after killing his half-brother that she had blood on her soul, and did it for the men in her life to protect them and carry the burden.

  Whitefox finally realized how his words were misconstrued. “Lyzee,” he said, reaching over and taking her hand off the table and holding it in his own. Their fingers twined together in second nature. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. There’s a difference between a stone cold killer, and someone that’s had to kill for survival and the law.”

  Desdemona Adare watched the interaction. She’d heard the gossip in the lab about the last few assignments and what had gone down. Those rumors must have been all fact. She glanced down at Whitefox’s hand holding Elizabeth’s. It was such an intimate act, one that lovers would partake in easily. It was a mix of love and support. When she glanced over at her other boss, he too was holding her hand. Again, the men were offering her some comfort and they seemed to blend the lines between them.

  “It’s okay, Cal. I know what you meant,” she said, softly. If she had to take it all back and do it over she’d do the same exact thing. Her family was her priority. Yeah it hurt her heart, she was human after all, but losing her husband or Callen Whitefox would have hurt more that day. Then almost killing the man that murdered her father, there was very little remorse there.

  Both men gently kissed her cheeks in reassurance.

  “Back to the profile,” Ethan Blackhawk redirected to draw the attention off his wife. “Okay so female and I’m going with Caucasian. She isn't killing anyone ethnically diverse, and that means she is relating to the men in some way.”

  “Help me understand why women kill,” asked Whitefox, still holding Elizabeth’s hand. “I’m the newest at this, and I’m here to learn from you both.”

  Blackhawk nodded. “Okay, women are basically going to kill for a few common reasons, abuse is the big one. Then you can follow it up with monetary gain, a woman scorned, because she wants what another woman may have or to change her lifestyle and social status.”

  “When you’re looking for a predator,” Elizabeth said, “most of the time a criminologist will tell you that men are more likely to be the killer. Women make it personal; it’s rarely a sexual thing.”

  “Exactly,” confirmed Blackhawk. “If a woman kills, it’s generally people she knows, or who are around her in her social circle. A man will lure, hunt, and stalk his prey. Rarely are women the perpetrators of serial killings. It happens, but not as often.”

  “As an investigator, Callen, our next logical step is to look at the victims,” said Elizabeth. “We need to figure out what they all had in common to catch her eye. If women kill who they know, or pick up in a bar, then these men will all have one thread in common.”

  “Yes.”

  “We also have the blonde hairs. They’re out for DNA, and they’ll co
nfirm male or female,” added Desdemona. “Toxicology is out too, and should be back tomorrow.”

  Blackhawk stared out the window. “I have to admit that I’m having a serious problem with this being a woman. The victims were fairly large. Almost our size,” he pointed at his brother and himself. “Elizabeth couldn’t carry me, and she’s,” he almost used the word big, and caught himself when she lifted an eyebrow. “Tall for the average woman.”

  Desdemona chimed in, “I couldn’t carry you either, and I’m the height of the average sized woman. Most females max out at five foot five or five foot six. I’m five foot five and one hundred five pounds. So I would assume that she’s between my size and,” she looked over at Elizabeth. “What’s your height and weight without the boots?”

  Both men gasped that Doctor Adare asked a pregnant Elizabeth her weight. Both men braced for the backlash on the question. Jokingly they once asked her and she ended up with one in a headlock and the other on the bottom of the pile arm across his throat. There were threats and promised of scalping and painful death if it was ever brought up again.

  Elizabeth didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’m five eleven and at my last doctor appointment one hundred forty five pounds.”

  “How come she could ask your weight, and you didn’t just drop kick her into next week?” asked Blackhawk laughing. “Like you did with us.”

  Elizabeth grinned at her husband. “One- she’s a medical professional and could have probably guessed my weight just by looking at me. She stares at naked dead bodies all day.”

  “I could have guessed,” added Doctor Adare. “I would have said no more than one hundred forty. I bet the doctor’s scale was off. I’m really good at guessing weight.”

  Elizabeth took a sip of iced tea. “Then there’s the whole thing about it relating to a case. She wasn’t asking to be nosey like you both did. Desdemona was asking to get a baseline to the killer and that’s my job. I’ll spill my weight to keep more bodies from turning up. You both know I’m far from vain enough to worry about what you all think.”

  “It was completely scientific and nothing more.”

  Blackhawk shook his head. “This woman thing has too many rules and sub rules. I’ll never figure it out.”

  Whitefox laughed. “I give up. Just elbow me when I say something wrong. It’s easier.”

  “I plan on it,” she said laughing and squeezing his hand.

  “Don’t give her permission to hit you! Then she’s going to hit me now too,” threw out her husband, laughing.

  “Lastly,” continued Elizabeth, ignoring their banter. “I’m not overweight even six months pregnant. If I gained sixty pounds rule one and two are immediately forfeited and no one at this table would know my weight and live to tell about it.”

  “Technically for the gestational time and the length of pregnancy already completed, Elizabeth is underweight. You should eat more,” she added laughing, sliding her fries towards Elizabeth.

  “That was part science and part girlfriend code.” Elizabeth popped a piece of gum in her mouth and offered Doctor Adare a stick. “I’ll pass on the fries, why tempt the metabolism gods.” Before she could move her hand from pushing them away, both men attacked them. “This is why I don’t gain weight. They handle that for me,” she shook her head, laughing.

  “Thank you,” she said accepting the gum and watching the men consume the greasy bounty. “Anyway, is it possible she has help? Could we have two women killing together? What we just discussed showed that if it’s one killer, she’s more bad ass than Elizabeth.”

  Blackhawk thought about it. “That makes it even less likely, and not because Lyzee isn't the pinnacle of badass. We’d have to examine the trace and see if more DNA pops, but honestly this feels like a single person job to me.”

  Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the table. “So what you’re saying is we think it’s a woman, who is going to be super strong, and a blonde. Hey, I bet it’s a Viking!” she said, winking at Ethan Blackhawk. She knew he had to be stressed about the assessment and wanted to lighten the clouds brewing in his eyes.

  “I believe I read that Vikings like the mountains. How hard could it be to find a strong, tall, blonde who is wearing a skull cap and horns wandering up by the Boy Scout camp?” added his brother, laughing and winking at the women at the table.

  Blackhawk finally broke and started laughing. “When one turns up, don’t be surprised. We attract the oddest things!”

  ~ Chapter seven ~

  Tuesday evening

  Desdemona stood over the dead, and was thinking about the living- one living man in particular. She could feel his eyes on her as she worked, and it was super distracting. Right now she was praying to just get the autopsy done and stop her heart from pounding in her chest. Callen Whitefox stirred up a volatile brew in her body, one begging to boil over.

  After they had lunch, the team returned to the autopsy room. Whitefox wouldn’t leave her alone, and he could easily work from his laptop while keeping an eye on the doctor. If Elizabeth didn’t opt out, he would have asked her to step in anyway. He wanted to spend some time alone with the woman, and this was the perfect opportunity to see if she’d fit into his life.

  She stripped out of her street clothes, and slipped into scrubs, and he had to admit, they were sexy on her. When she was out of her monster sized heels, she was tiny and petite. He felt like he towered over her, even if he was only one foot taller. She looked delicate, and made of something breakable and at that moment he wanted to wrap himself around her and keep her safe. Aw hell, this was uncharted territory for him, because he wanted to keep her safe.

  “Everything’s here,” she said, stepping down off the stool she had been standing on to look down into the body. “All present and accounted for.”

  “Well that’s good for him, but not us,” he said smiling. Autopsies weren’t his favorite thing. It wasn’t because he was super squeamish. The smell just bothered him. “How’d he die?” he asked moving over to her side. She was still wearing her little black glasses, and he was going crazy because of them.

  “The killer took the ears and severed the external carotid artery. Want to see?” she asked, slipping on a pair of fresh gloves.

  “Yeah, show me.” Whitefox assisted her up onto the stool with his own gloved hand, and he continued to clutch it in his.

  “Right here,” Desdemona pointed and leaned over the body, bracing herself on the table.

  When he leaned forward, his hip hit the table, and it shifted, and unfortunately she started to fall. Whitefox moved fast and pulled her towards him, catching Desdemona against his body. Just having her this close to him was intoxicating and a very dangerous thing. He hoped she’d help him forget what his heart kept screaming to his brain. Callen was smart enough to know his heart was in denial about who he wanted to be with.

  “Oh,” she said, as he held her against his body, his lips weren’t far from hers.

  “I apologize Desi,” he said.

  “It’s okay, it was an accident,” she replied, looking right into his eyes and she wondered how long she could stay motionless and just held against him. If she moved he would certainly put her down.

  “No, this wasn’t an accident,” he said softly, and brought her lips to his in a gentle kiss. It wasn’t filled with wildness, but sweet and offering heat and enjoyment. His brother’s warning kept bouncing around in his brain, and he pushed it down, choosing to ignore it. She may have had a propensity to run, so he would keep it easy and keep her here. He dropped her feet back on the stool, so he could place his hand on the back of her neck, and keep her locked in the kiss.

  Desdemona didn’t just smell delicious, she tasted like heaven. Peppermint from the gum she’d been chewing. As he kissed her deeper, he felt her arms touch his shoulders at first tentatively and then firmly. Yeah, this wasn’t an accident at all. Completely on purpose and he loved every second of it. It was nice to know he could distract himself with an attractive woman.

  D
esdemona had never been kissed like this before. Yeah, she’d had men and lovers that she’d been with, but this man’s lips should be registered as illegal. The kiss started as soft and then deep. Just when she thought she was going to completely combust in his arms, he pulled back and looked into her eye. “That wasn’t and accident or a mistake,” he whispered, watching her for any sign of fear.

  She didn’t know what to say, but she managed to not yell ‘DO IT AGAIN!’, so there was a small miracle. Desdemona just nodded at his words and agreed. Something about this man sucked out her brain, and she was willing to follow him into anything, like making out next to a dead body. In her brain she heard the little voice warning her she’d always be second, and she chose to ignore it. Being near him felt too good.

  “Callen,” she said softly.

  Whitefox shook his head. “It’s going to happen again.” Right there he threw down the challenge. He was going to get what he wanted, and that was her. Forcing her to see how it was going to be didn’t matter to him. When it was all done, he’d be victorious.

  She wasn’t sure what to think. Part of her wanted to do a cartwheel and part of her wanted to escape far away.

  He helped her step down. “Let’s wrap this up here, and then go find Ethan and Elizabeth. We should head out of here soon.”

  She nodded, and went to go get the lab techs. “Stitch him up, and store him in the cooler. I’ll finish my report tomorrow. Ship out the samples to the lab at FBI West, and mark them urgent and then head out for the night,” she said to the techs in the next room. Desdemona hoped they didn’t just see her making out with the sexiest man in the world. On second thought, she hoped they all did. Kudos for her!

  “Why are you laughing,” he asked, as he lifted a brow.

  “Today has been the weirdest day of my life. I was frightened by a deputy dressed up as a killer, my pregnant boss kicked his ass, and then I just made out by a corpse with a sexy Native American. Possibly what is most disturbing is I’m beginning to believe that I’m the only one that finds this the least bit out of the ordinary.”