It wasn’t her job to question it.
It was her job to do it.
As she stood outside, taking in the sun streaming between the old buildings, Merry was enthralled with the silence. The French Quarter was absolutely beautiful. From what she saw, she really liked it.
Then again, she really liked how safe it was. Her life, as of that moment, was a mess. When the Blackhawks had offered her the position in DC, she jumped at it.
Yes, it was partly because of them, but it was mostly because of the man in her life. Derek Williamson had been her knight in shining armor. He was a decent guy, who swept her off her feet. There was something about a cop, and she couldn’t help but fall for him.
They moved fast.
He wanted to move into her place.
She let him.
He wanted to be in charge.
She backed down.
Derek became a control freak.
She didn’t stop him.
Then it began.
Her life started to unravel around her. Nothing was what it was supposed to be, and she didn’t know how to change that.
After work, he’d come home angry.
He’d come home pissed off.
Often, she’d rationalize it away. After all, he had a rough job, and she got that. Only he’d take it out on her. A few times, she’d make him so angry that he’d lash out, striking her. Merry, a strong woman, took it.
She didn’t know why she did, but it happened. When she was living that moment, she didn’t know how to stop it from happening.
Just thinking about him made her want to cry.
He scared her.
No, make that terrify.
When she finally got the strength and kicked him out, she told him if he didn’t leave her alone, she’d go to her bosses. She’d make sure they knew what was happening, and she’d get him fired.
Her intent was to scare him.
Instead, it did the opposite.
It made him worse.
When she packed everything up and escaped to DC, she never told him where she was going. Her plan was to disappear, leaving him and her issues behind.
Only that didn’t work.
He found her.
Merry knew that as a cop, he’d always be able to hunt her down. Just before leaving for this case, he turned up at her new brownstone.
He’d showed up with flowers.
An apology.
Sweet words.
She’d fallen for it so many times before, but this time, she wasn’t going to go down that road. This was the clean break she needed. So, she told him to leave.
Immediately, the switch was flipped.
Gone were the decent guy and cop. In his place was the abuser who knew all the right places to leave the marks—invisible to everyone but her.
When he snapped, it was violent.
It took everything she had to withstand his fists as they repeatedly struck her torso and chest. She’d never seen him this crazed, and that was the worst part.
He was out of control.
Normally, he’d be ever so careful to mark her where no one would see the bruises, but not this last time.
He was going to kill her.
She knew it.
When he hit her again, she told him she was going to call the cops. Then she screamed.
He took off, and she locked her door.
Now she had to face the cold hard reality. The man was going to end her life. She knew one day, it would likely be her on that morgue table, and she didn’t know what to do.
A part of her wanted to go to Elizabeth.
A part of her wanted to beg for help, but this was her issue, her mess, and she liked work to stay at work, and private life to be private.
She was torn.
She didn’t think he’d find her there or at least that was her hope. What was she going to do?
Merry couldn’t hide forever, could she?
As the tears filled her eyes, Merry prayed for some kind of intervention. She needed it in the worst way. As she went to turn, fingers closed around her arm.
It scared her so much that she pulled her gun and pointed it at the person behind her.
He was about as shocked as she was to be staring down the barrel of her Glock.
“I’m sorry, Miss Peyton. I was just bringing you coffee. I figured you needed it,” Detective Savage offered, backing up. He saw the tears, and the look of fear.
It didn’t seem right.
Something was off.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. Merry was rattled that she’d pulled a gun on him. She was a mess, and this was her proof. Now she was randomly pointing her gun at strangers.
At other cops no less…
“Are you okay?” he asked, concern filling his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m just jumpy. It’s the job. When you sit in a room with dead bodies all night, your imagination gets the best of you. It makes you a little edgy.”
He might have bought that if she wasn’t borderline crying. That didn’t explain it at all. Boone had seen jumpy women before, and he was worried.
There was always a reason behind it. She looked like a scared animal, and that spoke volumes.
“I should go,” Merry said, turning to leave.
“Would you like me to walk you back to your place?” he offered. Something wasn’t sitting right with him. His gut warned not to leave her alone.
“That’s kind of you, Detective, but I’m fine.”
He handed her the coffee.
“Thank you.”
“Would you like to get breakfast? I still have some time before I have to meet your boss. There’s a great place around the corner from where you’re staying.”
Oh, she was tempted.
Merry really didn’t want to be alone, but she was scared. One cop ruined her life.
Two cops might be the end of her.
In this line of work, she had trust issues. After being abused by a man, they were multiplied. Merry had used them to build a wall around her.
It was for her own good.
“No, thank you. I’m going to head back and sleep.”
It was a lie.
She was too freaked out to sleep, and she had to hope he wouldn’t realize it.
“Okay, Miss Peyton. Be safe, you hear?”
She loved the accent in his voice. It was calm, cathartic, and like the cream in a good rich coffee. Merry wanted to get lost in it.
Yeah, but at a safe distance.
“Have a good day, Detective Savage.”
As she moved down the street, he watched her. He trusted his gut, and it was screaming. Boone needed to follow his instinct.
It had saved him countless times before.
Something was definitely up with the woman, and he needed to figure it out. Pulling out his phone, he called Elizabeth Blackhawk and told her he was going to have to skip the coffee shop. Something had come up, and he’d catch her after the morgue.
Fortunately, it went to voicemail.
Heading down the street, Boone took a shortcut to the café and then to Merry’s hotel.
This wasn’t over.
He could spot a damsel in distress, and she was one. Normally, he wouldn’t intervene, but with her, he was compelled.
Call him stupid, but she needed his help.
He could feel it to his gut.
Chapter Five
Wednesday
Café Near Morgue
When Callen and Elizabeth got closer, they could see their two agents there already sipping café au lait and eating beignets. From the smiles, it was plain to see that they were definitely happy.
As Cupid, that made her day.
She may be tough on the outside, but inside, she loved when people found that same happiness that she, Ethan, and Callen had found.
Feeling the love, Elizabeth took Callen’s hand in hers as they continued up the street. When he brought her knuckles to his lips in a kiss, she sighed.
Yeah, lo
ve was pretty awesome.
As they got closer, she had to switch gears to make herself badass Elizabeth Blackhawk. They expected it, and they had a job to do.
“Agents, I see you’re ready for our meeting.”
Brody stood until Elizabeth took a seat.
“Yeah, boss, we are.”
“I’m not really on the clock, so Elizabeth is fine. Let’s keep it low key.”
Johanna motioned toward the waitress, signaling two more coffees. “We have the searches done,” she offered.
Elizabeth glanced around, the hair on the back of her neck standing.
“What?” Callen asked, when she ignored her agent.
“I feel like we’re being watched.”
They looked around, and there were lots of tourists wandering the street. For all they knew, they were being spied on, or it could be a curious onlooker.
“Want to go in?” Brody asked, pointing toward the door. “We don’t have to do this outside.” He trusted her instinct, and honestly, he didn’t want to risk his wife.
Elizabeth was a trouble magnet.
“No, it’s fine. It’s a nice day. Who knows if we’ll get to enjoy it? Give me what you have, and by that, I mean start with the ME.”
Brody went first. “We did a deep search on him, and it came back clean. He has some righteous degrees to his name, but he’s no Christopher Leonard, that’s for sure. There aren’t any parking tickets, citations, or so much as a late bill. He’s clean.”
She was good with that.
All she wanted was her bases covered. When you missed the little things, they could snowball and get you killed. No one wanted to go down that road.
“How about the rest of the staff?”
“We ran everyone there, and we only had one person pop.”
She sipped her chicory coffee and stared over the cup. “Who?”
“We did some digging, and it seems that the morgue had a night security crew. It’s actually cops from the precinct.”
She was listening as Callen made notes for her.
“There was a cop on duty three out of four of the nights the bodies went missing.”
“Who was on the fourth?” Callen asked.
“Yeah, no one. That’s just it. It appears that he called in sick.”
That right there had her attention.
“What’s his name?”
Johanna slid the paper across the table for her boss. “Officer Clifford DuChamp. He’s a newbie recently out of junior college.”
“You said you found something on him. What’s on his record?” she asked, popping the rest of her beignet into her mouth.
“He’s been in a few fights, and someone likes to party with women and booze. He’s got a trespassing charge on his record.”
That was interesting.
They had someone trespassing and stealing corpses. Could they point the finger at a more obvious suspect? He worked where the bodies were housed, he was on duty the nights it happened, and he had a criminal record.
Bingo!
They had their first viable suspect.
“He works out of the same precinct that Detectives Savage and Le Bleu do.”
Well, this was going to be fun. The second they started digging on a cop, that was going to piss off just about everyone who was carrying a badge in the city.
Still…
They had to do their jobs.
This wasn’t a popularity contest by any means, and it meant taking the good with the bad.
This was the bad.
“Okay, I’m going to throw this one out there. He needs an interview. If you two don’t want to stir the hornets’ nest, Callen and I will take it. We don’t mind.”
Callen actually did mind, but if he said anything, that would make Elizabeth that much more hell bent on taking it. So, like a good husband, he kept his mouth shut and prayed for a miracle.
“Are you kidding?” Brody asked. “Research or an interview? I’m in. How about you, baby?”
“Agent Baby,” Elizabeth corrected.
Johanna blushed.
It was hard not to as Brody was grinning at her.
“It works for me, Elizabeth. We’ll take the interview.”
Callen was able to release that breath he was holding. He just got his miracle by way of the agents.
Hallelujah.
“Great. Hit him up at his place, but keep it friendly. Tell him you’re covering your bases for the FBI. We don’t need to piss off anyone else. We’re actually keeping it light so far.”
Well, minus the ME.
He probably hated her guts, but you couldn’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs. Anyone who liked playing in rotting bodies was already a little scrambled in her book.
“Great. What do you want us to handle after that?”
Elizabeth ran the schedule through her head. “Did you work all night?” she asked.
“Pretty much.”
It was true.
They took a break around two for some cuddling and a cat nap.
“Then you can call it a day. Take a break, and enjoy yourself. If I need you, I’ll call. Right now, we’re just working what we have. I’ll get us more as we start working through the data.”
“Awesome. It’s like a honeymoon.”
Elizabeth stopped him right there. “No, it’s really not. If you think honeymoon equals murder investigation, you need a refresher.”
Brody laughed.
“Besides, no one is supposed to know, remember?”
Oh, they did, but it was so damn hard to pretend they weren’t a couple.
“Now, how about the victims?” she asked.
“We ran them all, and then we passed it off to Doctor Leonard. We figured it might help out during his breakdown when you arrived.”
She was good with that. It didn’t matter who gave her the information, as long as she got it.
“Head out. We’ll meet up later for dinner. Then we can tell you what we found.”
They were more than happy to escape.
As they walked down the street, Brody took Johanna’s hand in his. Elizabeth shook her head in amusement.
“Yeah, that’s going to be coming out at some point. Ethan is going to have one hell of a mess on his hands.”
Callen agreed.
Before they could pay, her phone chimed. It was the tone signaling her other sexy Native.
‘I thought you’d like to see my morning. Wish you were both here. It appears Callen isn’t the only storyteller in the family.’
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, reading his brother’s message.
“There’s a video attached. Let’s find out.”
She hit play.
Cat’s face came onto the screen, along with EJ and CJ. They were listening as their sister read them a story. Both boys looked like their fathers, only they had variations of Elizabeth’s features. When Cat was done, she looked right at Ethan. “I wish Daddy was here. I miss him and momma.”
Both of them awwwed over that one.
How could they not?
Cat was cuteness times a million.
“You tell a good story, Kitty Cat,” Ethan said on the video. “You get that from your daddy. He’s a wonderful writer. Maybe one day, you will be too.”
She was about to speak when EJ pushed her out of the way in an attempt to get to Ethan’s lap. She turned and wailed on him.
“And that you get from your mommy,” Ethan admitted, laughing at his children fighting.
The video ended.
Neither of them had dry-eyes.
“That was beautiful,” she said, kissing Callen. “We’re lucky to have her in our life.”
For the longest time, he worried that Desdemona’s gene pool would taint his child with the anger that lived in her. Now he saw that Elizabeth and Ethan had been right. Children were a product of their environment.
Cat was theirs.
More importantly, Cat was Elizabeth’s little girl down to he
r fuzzy pink slippers.
“Want to head to the morgue?” Callen asked, dropping cash onto the table.
“Yeah, let’s get this day started. I have a little girl to call later and kiss over video chat.”
He grinned.
So did he.
And Callen couldn’t wait.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
B&B
Merry was so damn glad to be at the hotel. When she picked up her key at the desk, the concierge told her that she had a visitor who arrived right before her.
There were never words that scared her more.
Immediately, her heart began pounding in her chest. When she found out that it was a man, she really wanted to run for her life. The only thing that kept her from doing it was that she’d have to explain it to her bosses.
They would be disappointed in her.
She knew it.
All she could hope was she could handle the situation before it escalated. Derek wouldn’t do anything to draw attention, and she wasn’t letting him into her room.
Yeah, not happening.
If she could keep it under control, she’d be safe.
Or at least that was what she kept telling herself.
As she walked up the stairs, she found him sitting at the top. Only it wasn’t her ex.
It was a sexy Native detective.
Merry didn’t see that one coming.
At all.
Funny, the relief that it wasn’t her crazy ex didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, him being there freaked her out even more.
“Uh, hello.”
He picked up the bag beside him. “We’re going to have breakfast, and then we’re going to talk.”
She stared at him. “No, we’re not. I’m going to sleep.”
He moved toward Merry. She actually stepped back and her hand went to her sidearm.
That alone told him everything he needed to know.
“Who hurt you, Miss Peyton?”
She opened her mouth, and then closed it. What was she supposed to say to that?
He saw right through her, and that unnerved Merry to some deep level. He was right. Someone did hurt her, and she was scared.
“You should go.”
“If that’s what you want,” he offered. Boone could see the fear, and he suspected a man put it there. Twice now, she’d gone for her gun, and in their line of work, that usually meant one thing.
Blood Shall Run (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 15) Page 14