He saw that with Chris today.
She doted on him, simply because life had beaten him down. Finally, he got it. It didn’t mean she loved Charlie less than Cat, it simply meant that Cat needed a little more love.
Any jealousy he’d felt was gone.
Chris was the weaker of the men. He needed someone to compensate.
He didn’t need to worry about the past. Elizabeth was simply leveling the playing field for someone who’d taken way too many hits to the soul.
“I love her.”
Ethan looked over. “I do too.”
Callen knew he didn’t get it quite yet, but one day, when he found out about Chris, he would. Ethan would figure it out just like he did. It might not be immediately, but he’d realize it, and they would be fine.
Callen had faith.
After the storm would be the calm.
“When someone’s weak, she loves them more. She puts more into it, not because she cares more, but because she knows they need it.”
Ethan watched her.
“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked. He swore his brother was alluding to something.
“That love comes in all shapes and sizes, and the past only forges a path. It doesn’t negate the journey.”
“That was very Timothy of you.”
He was aware.
“We should get in there and start.”
He agreed.
As they headed toward their woman, she was finishing her moment with Catherine.
“Hi, Dads.”
They both gave her a kiss.
“Why was Daddy chasing tail?” she asked.
Callen stared at her horrified.
“What? Wait! Where did you hear that, Catherine Naomi?” he asked.
Elizabeth struggled not to say a word. Callen needed to have some of the fun. Why should she hog it all?
She shouldn’t.
“I heard it on the news. They said Jackson James was chasing tail. You’re Jackson James, too, right?”
He hated this.
Ever since he’d been ratted out by a killer, the media liked publishing so much BS about him.
Well, mostly BS.
He technically was chasing tail—his woman’s.
“I am him, baby.”
“Then what is chasing tail, and why were you going into that place and chasing momma?”
She looked back and forth between them.
Callen stared at her.
How the hell was he going to get out of this one?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Wow! Catherine, Dad is so bored. Want to play?”
She smiled. “Yes, Daddy.”
“What if I gave you lots and lots of money to play a little game?”
“Okay, what game? I can play Candy Land.”
“Not quite what I was thinking.”
“What?”
“How about we play, let’s forget that term ‘chasing tail’ until you’re fifteen?”
She stared at him.
“I don’t know…”
He pulled out a twenty.
“Nope.”
He pulled out another.
“Getting warmer.”
Elizabeth was amused. This kid knew how to work the men in the room. It did her heart proud.
“How about now?” he asked, holding up three twenties.
“That and one more thing.”
“What?” Ethan asked, getting down to her level.
“I want a kiss.”
He opened his arms and Cat jumped into them. Ethan cuddled her, and she tucked her face into his neck and held on.
It was hard not to melt.
“Better, baby?” he asked.
She nodded.
Ethan gave her a noisy kiss on the cheek. “Here you go. Take the money and stuff it into your piggy bank.”
She smiled and they all noticed something.
Catherine had the Blackhawk grin down.
She was the first female Blackhawk, born with the genes, and she was rocking it.
“The boys are screwed,” Elizabeth whispered. Then she stared over at the men. “How does it feel to be on the other side of that?” she asked.
Ethan snorted. “Broke.”
Callen found it sweet. “She’s my girl.”
Yeah, she really was.
They heard her yell and they went to investigate. Catherine was running around Kanje.
“Look, Daddy, I’m chasing tail.”
She ran around, and the dog played with her.
Callen let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, don’t be relaxing now, darlin’,” Elizabeth said. “She’s going to school tomorrow, and she’s going to use that phrase at one point and the odds are NOT in your favor.”
“Is a nunnery out of the question? Better yet, can we get rid of cable?”
They just might have to do that.
Elizabeth whistled, and everyone headed into the living room. She was at her whiteboard, and she needed to start breaking it down. They were three dead women in, and it was time to see what was connecting, and what wasn’t.
“Okay, let’s talk killer. What do we know?” she asked, uncapping a black smelly marker.
“We know that this killer is one hell of a stalker,” Johanna offered. “He’s watching everything we’re doing, or should I say what you’re doing.”
Elizabeth agreed.
She played hooker, and he took a woman right after she’d left. They had media all over them at the hotel, and she was beginning to think that wasn’t a coincidence.
“He’s trying to tell me something. I just don’t know what it is,” Elizabeth offered.
Ethan began, “He’s stealing the moniker from your last big case. We had the ‘Shakespearean Tragedy Killer’, and now he’s calling himself Romeo.”
“Could that just be a coincidence?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Ethan offered. “Let’s face it. This killer’s memory of you seems to go back. He’s either studied you, or he’s a part of your past.”
“Well, that narrows it down,” she muttered. “I’ve only come across about a zillion people in twenty years of law enforcement.”
They were aware.
That’s what made this so damn hard.
“Are we sure it’s her life he’s stalking?” Callen asked. “He’s rebuilding someone,” he offered. “Remember the ‘True Love Killer’?”
How could they forget?
Elizabeth had nearly lost Callen.
Callen had made a huge mistake and asked Desdemona to marry him, and Ethan had to watch the two people he loved fight to survive.
“That was more me than her.”
Ethan thought about it. “No, it’s going to be her. He’s focused on her for some reason—thus the roses and love letters. Once we figure out why, we’re good.”
“What about the roses?” Chris asked.
Elizabeth sat on the couch. “I worked a case a while back—a couple months before I got shot and Ray died. The killer was leaving roses for his victims.”
“I don’t recall it,” Chris offered.
“We didn’t work it together.”
Elizabeth stared at him, hoping he’d tread lightly. It had been the first major case she’d taken after they decided that being a couple was over.
She knew when he got it.
“Oh, yeah, I recall. I was playing ME to a few other agents.”
Fortunately, he left it at that.
“Okay, so the roses connect to her past too.”
“Yes, they do, but they weren’t colored,” she admitted. “They were all red.”
“The colors have meaning?” Johanna asked.
Ethan tossed Elizabeth a different colored marker. She headed toward the board.
“The first was lavender, the second was coral, and the third was yellow with red tips. They each have a different stage of a relationship in their meaning,” Ethan offered. “He’s leaving them to show us his ultimate goal.”
<
br /> “Which is?” Callen asked.
“The red rose is likely it. It means love,” Ethan answered.
Yeah, Callen didn’t like this.
At all.
“So, this nut is wooing our woman, via dead hookers? That’s not exactly a sane thing. The wooing is crazy enough, but the message via hooker parts is way out of Saneville and into Crazytown.”
Yeah, Ethan was aware.
“He’s left hair, eyes, and lips. What’s next?” Chris asked. “He can only cut off so many things.”
“You know one of them is going to be the heart,” Broderick stated. “I’d bet money on it.”
They all would.
“It’ll likely be the end game. Once he goes there, he’s going to go for her. That’ll be his signal that he’s wooed her plenty, and now he’s going to obtain her.”
Callen hated this.
“So we’re fine until he throws down a heart. Once he does, it’s all over?” he asked.
Ethan hated to admit it, but that was a damn good possibility. It wasn’t often he was wrong.
“Unfortunately.”
She would be ready for it. There was no way she was going down to this crazy. Honestly, she didn’t feel threatened. By now, had she been in danger, or one of her men, the killer would have taken a shot, tried to blow them up, or some other crazy way to get their attention.
This killer hadn’t directed it at her.
Yet.
“Well, I guess we can say this killer is definitely focused on me, and what’s going on in my past and present. I played the hooker more times than I could count.”
“Seventeen,” Chris replied.
“You counted?”
He laughed. “When Elizabeth LaRue pulled out the red leather, all the men counted.”
She snorted and gave him a fist bump.
Elizabeth was glad he was focused on something other than the cut.
She glanced over at Ethan. “Give me what you can on the basics of this guy. I’m assuming guy, since he’s jumping a hooker.”
“It is a male. I’m putting his age almost in his fifties. He’s going to be older.”
“Wow! That’s a first,” she said. “Normally, I get the younger crazies. It looks like I’m working my way up the nutjob food chain.”
Ethan laughed. “Well, he’s going to be older because this is going to take a lot of focus. He’s switching up cars, he’s not leaving trace, and if Chris is right, he shaved off all his body hair. You have to be dedicated to killing to do that.”
She agreed.
“Younger killers don’t sweat the small details. They do the crime, and something trips them up so they end up doing the time.”
Yeah, she’d see the evidence of that.
Honestly, those were the killers she liked. When they screwed up, she caught them.
“He’s going to be harder, right?”
“I don’t know if harder is the right word. He’s had time to hide himself and play the game. You just need to focus on the crime, and you’ll figure it out.”
Oh, she would.
“Here’s something I’m going to toss out there. I know I use the phrase crazy a lot, but this guy is going to be off. Chris, what diseases related to frequenting hookers can mess with your mind and make you insane?”
“Syphilis can do that. It affects the nervous system, and then the brain, BUT in order for that to happen, the person has to have been infected for a very long time.”
“He’s been watching me a long time. What if he’s been around hookers a lot, and this is something he picked up from dipping his stick in a disease-ridden pool?” she asked.
Chris thought about it. “That would do it. It was likely a long-term addiction.”
She looked over at the Seatons. “I want you to go back as far as you can with the dead hookers. They aren’t very old. Find me anyone who was arrested at the beginning of their careers. Find me someone who fits what Ethan stated. Early fifties, late forties, and likes to dick dive without a condom.”
They got to work.
Elizabeth was hung up on one person.
She scribbled the name on the board.
They all stared at it.
“Edward Becker is at the top of my list, and here’s why. He likes to knock up his girls to create more hookers.”
“Well, that’s insane,” Chris stated.
She was aware.
“It also means he’s diving without a helmet, if you know what I mean. How do you get syphilis?” she asked.
“Unprotected sex where you come in contact with an infected person is the primary way to get the ick.”
“There you go. So, he screws his own hookers, so that gives him a one up on getting sick. I don’t care how new they are to the streets. If you’re willing to hook, you’ve likely been selling yourself to survive.”
Ethan made notes.
He loved watching his wife work. She was pacing back and forth in her beat up jeans, button down shirt, and barefoot.
It gave him the chills.
Her toes were baby blue.
It was sexy.
“He’s been around a long time. I ran into him almost fifteen years ago. He knows me. We’ve done the dance. He’s going to be someone we can tie to that based on dealing with me before.”
That checked off two boxes.
“He’s white male, and he’s in his late forties.”
That checked off two more.
Elizabeth kept writing on the board.
“Then add in that he’s loaded. Our killer is moving around like he’s not employed, and has all the time in the world. Becker, the mad pecker, works at night, his days are free to plan, and who’s going to notice a pimp killing their own hookers?”
Chris got it.
“We had a case like that once.”
“Yeah, we did. That’s why I’m throwing it out there. I want to prove it is or isn’t him. He’s my number one with a bullet.”
Ethan corrected her. “Don’t forget that he’s going to be intelligent. He’s definitely someone who owns his own business and is successful doing it.”
She made note of it.
That sounded like Edward Becker to a T.
“He runs ‘Hookers-R-Us’. Is that good enough?” she asked.
“It would be.”
“So he’s lying around, plotting hooker world domination, and he gets ‘the Syphilis’. He’s spreading it. He’s getting crazier and crazier.”
Johanna raised her hand. “But if he’s killing at night, isn’t he out doing the stroll with his girls?”
She shook her head. “Eddie likes his mansion. He sends them out and they spread their joy, or legs, and he gets paid. He believes he’s too high class to stroll. He’s in that mansion all by himself, doing pimpy things.”
Chris laughed. “What would pimpy things be, exactly? I have that picture in my head, and it’s amusing.”
“Shining his cane, polishing his shoes, and jerking off to porn,” she said. Then she laughed. “How the hell would I know, Christopher?”
“You know a lot of odd things. Why the hell not this too?” he asked.
He had a very valid point.
“Seaton Squared, run him all the way down to his skivvies. I want to know everything about Eddie boy. He makes my skin crawl, and I don’t know if it’s because he likes his own girls, or if he’s a killer. I’m getting mixed signals on this one.”
Johanna made notes.
Callen raised his hand. “Teacher?” he teased, getting her attention.
“Yes, very disruptive student, who is sexy in braids and feathers.”
He snorted. “I had a thought.”
“Spill it,” she stated, eating some Chinese from a takeout container. She wasn’t sure if it was hers, Chris’s, or Ethan’s.
Then again, she didn’t really care—none of them did. It was fuel, and they shared all the time.
“Could it be someone who has access to a lot of hookers? Wouldn’t that gi
ve him the same opportunity to play in the disease pool, especially if he and you went way back?”
Ethan answered for her. “Yes, it would. Who are you thinking?”
“Ethan said he thought that this was someone on the inside of the FBI because they were mimicking your cases to leave clues.”
She waited for it.
“I know one person who fits all of that.”
Elizabeth put down the Chinese and uncorked her marker. “Spill it, sexy.”
“How do you feel about Patrick Singer? Hear me out. One, he’s a fed,” he stated, holding up one finger.
“Go on.”
“Two, he could easily access all of your older files by simply going to the file room downstairs. Where Amir electronically pulled them, he’s young. He likely didn’t realize they were all scanned. All of your old cases are going to be in paper in a file cabinet.”
He had a point.
“I’m with you so far.”
“Three. He has a list of hookers. Some of the dead girls are on his list. What if he’s going through and using his own resources to pick the victims? Maybe he’s not ‘following’ them. He’s simply knows their routine because he’s busted them or used them as informants.”
“He could be,” she offered.
“He’s a white male, and he’s from your past,” Callen added. “There are reasons four and five.”
Ethan continued, “Callen has a good one. He’s the right age.”
Elizabeth wrote his name on the list. “We’ll add him right under the pimp. For all we know, he was dick diving with one of the infected girls.”
She thought about it. “What has me worried is one little detail.”
“What?” Ethan asked.
“He’s shacked up with your ex-partner. What if that’s not accidental?”
He didn’t understand. “Why would Jay Melrose matter?”
“Who knows more about you than the people in this room?” she asked.
“Gabe.”
“An ex-partner?” Callen suggested.
He got it.
“I was profiling back then, and Jay knows how I roll,” he offered, stealing one of her phrases.
“Exactly. So is he really gay, or is he just playing the game to get as much information out of him as possible?”
Callen started laughing.
What?” she asked.
“Talk about pumping someone for information,” he stated.
Dying to Love (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 18) Page 32