Blood Shall Run (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 15)

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Blood Shall Run (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 15) Page 35

by Morgan Kelley


  She pinched him on the ass.

  He yelped.

  “You’re awake, handsome.”

  He wasn’t falling for her distraction. If she was doing something sexual in the morgue, with an audience, there was a reason.

  It was called bait and switch.

  “Spill it, Mrs. Blackhawk.”

  Callen laughed.

  She told him everything that had happened at the priestess’s place when she and Callen re-interviewed her. When she got to the Juju part, the detective looked up.

  The look on his face said it all.

  “Bad?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, that’s not good. Juju is a dangerous thing.”

  “Lyzee, what are you going to be doing?” he asked once more, hoping for a straight answer.

  She grinned. “I’m going to visit Kaleb Meeks. If the priestess thinks he’s trying to make her look like a killer, then he’s got my attention.”

  The men shared a look between them. This had to be a test. Yesterday, Ethan screwed up.

  Today, she was telling them she was heading out without one of them at her side.

  She knew they couldn’t say jack shit.

  Crap!

  Ethan jacked this up. They didn’t have ground to stand on.

  Blackhawk nodded to his brother. Callen hadn’t made a grave error with her, so he was least likely to get her mad.

  Neither wanted to piss her off, but they couldn’t let this one slide. What kind of husbands would they be if they did?

  “Alone?” Callen asked. “I am your partner. Shouldn’t I be walking shotgun through ‘The Quarter’ with you?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m not going alone. I’m taking the detective. He’s going to be my expert on Voodoo. He’s from this burg, so his job is to help me navigate the Juju mess.”

  The men didn’t like it.

  At all.

  “He has a concussion,” Callen stated.

  “I won’t rough him up. We’re going to take a walk to a suspect’s house. It’s not as if he’ll be bouncing around or having any fun. That would be crazy to do something like that.”

  Merry dropped a tray.

  Elizabeth started laughing.

  She loved when she could make one of her team uncomfortable. While she loved playing Cupid, she still liked to bust their balls.

  It was her hobby.

  Whenever someone was uncomfortable, it gave her a case of the giggles.

  Sue her.

  “Let’s go, Detective.” She glanced over at her ME. “Chris, you hold down the fort. I’m leaving you in charge. When Tony gets here, get our hooker into the plastic and get her bones stripped. Please don’t let him eat the beetles—especially after they had Hepatitis C for a snack.”

  He winked at her. “On it, boss. Watch your back.”

  She heard it in his voice. “I’ll be fine. Tonight, Ethan’s going to give us a profile, and you, Merry, the detective, and my sexy Natives are going to have dinner. We have a killer to catch.”

  No one said no.

  They knew better.

  She was amused when neither man said anything. They were being on their best behavior. This might be a first.

  Out in the hall, she heard the footsteps of pricy Italian leather, and knew who was coming. It didn’t take him long before Ethan grabbed her arm.

  “Hey.”

  “What?” she asked, waiting for it. She should have known it was too good to be true.

  “Are we okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head on his shoulder. It was nice to snuggle against him. Gently, she left a few kisses on his neck below his ear. She knew it gave him the chills. “We’re more than okay.”

  “I was wrong. You have this under control. You’re not slipping, baby. You’re as strong as ever.”

  She needed that.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Callen hugged her next. “Make sure you don’t piss off any angry Voodoo practitioners.”

  She snorted. “What are the odds of that?”

  He lifted her chin. “Exactly my point. You don’t look good as a pincushion. If we wanted things stuck in you, we have plenty of other options.”

  Ethan snorted.

  Tugging his mouth down to hers, she gently kissed him. “I promise I’ll be safe.”

  With that, she walked away with the detective.

  “I have a bad feeling,” Callen stated.

  “Yeah, I do too.”

  That meant only one thing.

  The shit was going to hit the fan.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ethan and Callen were not happy to trust their wife’s safety to another man. Both men would prefer one of them to be with her as she did the Meeks interview.

  Only they understood that when dealing with some Voodoo gone bad, Elizabeth would be better off with someone who actually practiced the religion. That insight might be what ultimately gave her the edge. Since neither Callen, nor Ethan were religious, they would be of no use.

  Hell!

  It made both of them want to practice more.

  What it came down to was that Elizabeth practiced Shamanism more than either of them ever did. While she was learning everything to teach their kids, the two men had sat idly by. Now they were regretting it.

  Blackhawk was edgy, and the more he thought about his wife, the more he needed to focus on something else.

  For his sanity, he needed to move on.

  “How’s the new book coming?” Ethan asked, keeping his voice low.

  Callen grinned. “It’s good. I sent it off to the publisher. I hope they like it. I think they’ll find the ‘Skinwalker’ case we handled, a creepy tale of cuckoo gone wrong.”

  Yeah, Ethan recalled it. There was no doubt it would keep the readers up all night.

  “When do I get to read it?” Ethan asked.

  “It’s all yours when it’s back from the publisher. I want to make sure it’s not total crap before you or Lyzee see it.”

  “What’s it feel like?” Ethan asked.

  “To write?”

  “Well, more so to be a writer. You have the gift of telling a story. That has to be intense.”

  Callen thought about it. “It’s fun, scary, and stressful. I keep waking up thinking that it’s all a dream. I’ve only ever wanted two things in my life—to write and to belong. Now I have both. There are days where I think it’s way too good to be true. I got damn lucky.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Callen glanced over as they headed down the street. “Thanks. Why do I feel like this is leading somewhere?”

  Ethan grinned. His brother was becoming more and more astute each day. They were rubbing off on him. He pulled his black hair back and into a hair tie as he thought about the way to approach this talk.

  “You’re stalling. Whenever you’re worried, you play with your hair.”

  Blackhawk patted his brother on the shoulder.

  “I do want to talk about it. That’s why when I say this, I don’t want you to read into it too much. I don’t want you to say anything. Just think about it.”

  He was getting worried. “That doesn’t sound good. In fact, I don’t like the way that sounds at all.”

  Ethan dropped his arm over his brother’s shoulders. He was pretty sure the reporters who were tailing them were getting a few good shots of them. That sick fascination about their relationship fueled many tabloid stories.

  Only Ethan didn’t care.

  This was half his heart, his blood, and spouse of sorts. They were a family, and this was his younger brother. Granted, they were less than a year apart, but still.

  “Just say it,” Callen stated.

  “I think that if this book does as well as the first one, you should come out.”

  “As what?” he asked, laughing at the terminology. “I’m already out in a threesome. I’m not sure the jackals following us could ha
ndle anymore news.”

  “I think you should let it leak to the media that you’re Jackson James.”

  Callen stared at him as if he was insane. “Are you drunk? Did you hit your damn head? We have media following us around now. What do you think will happen if they get an inkling of who my alter ego is?”

  “I think you’ll get the recognition you deserve. What you’re doing is damn difficult, Callen. Why should you have to hide who you are because of our jobs? I think that you should be proud of who you are. Stand up, don’t hide, and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “Uh, in this case, it might be easier to play gay than author. I don’t want to risk you or Elizabeth. You know crazies come out when you open yourself up to things like this.”

  “I spoke to Elizabeth about this the other day.”

  “When?”

  “The night you snuck out of bed to write. We woke up when you left.”

  Callen was curious. “What did she say?”

  “We want you to come out. We want you to have that feeling of accomplishment. Not many people know how amazing a writer you are. We think the world should know.”

  “The scrutiny.”

  “We’ll hold up. Don’t worry about us. We’re stronger than you think.”

  He was aware.

  “She wants me to?”

  “Yeah, Lyzee does, and so do I. We’re proud of our husband.”

  Whenever Ethan used the term, it made Callen’s heart skip in his chest. That sense of belonging made his soul lighter. It was that faith in the people you loved, and their commitment in return to him.

  “Elizabeth thinks your job is sexier than ours.”

  He snorted. “She likes smart men. That’s why she’s with you. Now I can compete.”

  Ethan stopped on the sidewalk. “You’re smart, Callen. You’ve always been smart.”

  “Let’s not start tossing around the BS, Ethan. In my own way, I have some skills. After all, I did manage to get you to share your wife. That took maneuvering on my behalf that would blow J. Edgar Hoover’s mind.”

  “You have a lot of skill, Cal.”

  “We all have something we excel at in life. You’re the profiler, and I’m the storyteller.”

  He had a point.

  Blackhawk pointed at the house not far from where they stopped. “We’re here. Are you ready to be a Fed?”

  Callen gave him a fist bump and then tied back his own long brown hair. They were going to start working, and it was best to look professional.

  Well, as professional as they could with an entourage following them all over the damn city.

  “Don’t you know it.”

  Together, they headed into the cab company. Inside, there was a small office where the dispatcher sat. Knocking on the window, they got his attention.

  “Yeah?”

  Both men held their badges up to the glass. It immediately got the attendant’s attention.

  “We have to ask you some questions,” Ethan said, doing the customary introductions. “Are you in charge of the cabs?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’m Casey Nolan.”

  Callen pulled out his tablet and showed the man the enlarged photo of the surveillance footage. Clearly visible was the cab and the number twenty-four.

  “Who was driving this cab last night?” Ethan asked.

  The man flipped through the paperwork. “I think it was Landon Walsh,” he offered. “He’s been working here a while on the night shift.”

  “How long?”

  “I guess maybe two years. Is he in some sort of trouble with the law?”

  Callen gave him that reassuring good ol’ boy grin. He’d picked it up from watching Elizabeth work. Granted, it likely worked better for her because she had truly spectacular breasts to back it up, but he was going to give it a try.

  “No, sir, he’s not. We think he was inadvertently a witness to a crime that happened last night. We simply need to ask him to look at some pictures and tell us what he saw. We have to cover all of our bases.”

  The man seemed to relax. “Good, because he’s one of our best drivers, and I don’t want to lose him. Landon doesn’t skip work, and he’s good with the people. In fact, he loves working at night. That’s the hardest shift to cover here.”

  “Does he always work the night shift?”

  “Yeah, he does. He is a night owl. He can’t get his ass out of bed for day shift. He tried his first week here, but he was always feeling under the weather.”

  That was good to know.

  “When did you see him yesterday?” Callen asked.

  Ethan was letting his brother run it. He wanted to see him in action, but he also wanted to start working on the profile he was building in his head.

  Callen had it under control.

  Elizabeth had taught him well.

  “I’d say around six this morning. I have a room upstairs. I work on and off through the night. He came back this morning, and that was about it.”

  “Can you tell me what he was doing over by the morgue?” Callen asked. He rattled off the address.

  “I don’t have anything on the log, so he might have been taking a break until the next fare came in. Our guys are busy when the bars are.”

  “Do you know where he is now?”

  “My guess is that he’s likely asleep. He’s working tonight. Do you need his address?” he asked.

  Ethan had already pulled out his tablet. On it, he’d found the man through the IRS tax records. He rattled the address off to the man.

  “That’s it.”

  Callen, once again, smiled reassuringly at him. “We really do appreciate your help.”

  “No problem.”

  They headed out.

  Once away from Casey Nolan, and the people wandering around, Callen finally spoke, “We need to ask him some tough questions.”

  Ethan was waiting for it.

  He had been thinking the same thing, only he wanted to see what his brother pulled out of that interview. “What do you mean?”

  Callen did something on his tablet, showing his brother a map of the city. “Here’s the morgue, right?” he asked, as they stared down at it.

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Here’s where he was parked.”

  “Okay.”

  “Casey Nolan told us that his guys were busy. You know how drunks are coming out of bars.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Yet, why was he over by the morgue? There’s no bar anywhere near there. In fact, there are no customers. So, why was our potential witness, sitting in his car, hanging out on an empty street, and outside a morgue when he should be picking up tourists seven blocks away?”

  Ethan grinned.

  “This was a test, wasn’t it?” Callen asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You and Elizabeth are sadistic. I hate when the two of you drop pop quizzes on me in the field.”

  Blackhawk patted his brother on the shoulder. He totally got that. When he’d been in the field as an agent, he hated it too. This was something he picked up from Gabe, and it stuck.

  “Know what else you’re good at besides writing, Cal?”

  “What?”

  “You’re a damn good Fed.”

  “I am?”

  “You’re so good, in fact, I’m going to let you do the questioning when we get to the man’s house. It’s your rodeo, Cal.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  There was only one answer.

  “Because you’ve definitely earned it.”

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Kaleb Meeks

  Boone Savage was silent the entire time they headed toward Kaleb Meeks home. He didn’t look at Elizabeth, and he didn’t engage in any sort of conversation.

  It was as if someone had warned him not to poke the sadistic boss.

  Oh, Merry…

  Nice try.

  Little did her head tech know t
hat she wasn’t above a direct route when it came to her team.

  “So, what are your intentions with our Merry?” she asked again and relatively out of the blue.

  He glanced over. “What?”

  Elizabeth kept a serious face. “Merry. Don’t play dumb. We’re both well aware that you know who she is. Your lip marks were all over her this morning.”

  He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

  So Elizabeth upped her game.

  “You’re just havin’ some fun,” she began. “I totally get it. We arrive in town, you spotted a chance to get some action, and you made your move. You wanted in her pants, and you got it.”

  “That’s BS,” he stated angrily.

  “Well, then why don’t you tell me what’s going on? For the record, each one of those techs are like my little ducks. I like to make sure no nefarious hunters roll into my pond and pluck them away to do who knows what to them.”

  Oh, she knew what.

  She loved lusty, nefarious Native acts as much as the next girl, but Merry was special. Elizabeth genuinely liked her. Plus, training a new head tech would suck seven ways to Sunday.

  Been there, done that shit fest.

  “Nothing is going on,” he drawled.

  Two could whip out the Southern. “Liar, liar, your chicken bone wearin’ pants are on fire.”

  He stared at her. “Seriously? You have to be kidding me.”

  “I’m very serious.”

  “Well, what happens between us is our business.”

  She grinned. “You really, really, really like her. You’re getting all twitchy. I know because I have two Native men who get that same damn look on their faces. You’ve got the hots for an outsider.”

  He gave up.

  This was a mess.

  “Yes, yes, I do.”

  Elizabeth grinned. “I’m happy for her. Take care of our Merry. She’s a good egg.”

  Boone stared at her. “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything more than that?”

  “Nope. Like you said, it’s really not my business. Merry likes keeping her private life just that, and I don’t intrude when a person throws up the ‘keep out’ sign. If she wants to talk about it, she knows where to find me.”

 

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