Pledging to Die (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 11)

by Morgan Kelley

  “Great work. Who’s next?”

  Agent Flowers spoke up, “I had Nels Lucas. He’s the big boy of the frat house. He’s about your size, Director,” she stated, glancing over at Callen. “For all intent and purposes, he appears to be the muscle and with good reason.”

  Elizabeth dropped her hand on Callen’s leg, letting him know she loved that he was the muscle on their team. While Ethan was more streamlined, Callen’s bulkier frame came in handy—in bed—and when scaring the shit out of a suspect.

  “He was All-American at his high school in a few sports, and he did a stint on the boxing team. Let’s just say you don’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

  That made total sense to Elizabeth.

  It was likely the reason he’d been picked at the frat house to play bodyguard for Arman.

  Despite his size, she wasn’t worried. Her team could handle some likely junked up steroid hound. Elizabeth would bet on her men any day. They may be double Nel’s age, but they had something he didn't.

  Street smarts.

  “His mother isn't in the picture,” stated Agent Flowers. “It was just him and his father. That could be why he majored in testosterone.”

  Ethan began processing that.

  “Anything else on him?” she asked.

  “I also got his transcripts,” stated Agent Flowers. “He’s average when it comes to grades. Let’s just say the FBI wouldn’t be calling him in for an interview, despite his size.”

  Elizabeth sat back in her chair to mull it over. “So, he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s not the dullest either. That’s interesting.”

  Callen was making notes. “Who’s up next?”

  “I had Hervey Westly,” stated Agent Blaise. “I found a shitload of things on him. He was arrested for selling marijuana to his high school buddies. Hervey was small time, and the cops who busted him didn't give him a felony because the quantity was below limits.”

  Yeah, he lucked out.

  “So, we have women being drugged up, and a kid who knows his way around peddling. That’s going to be important. I can feel it.”

  “His grades are bad, and he’s one step away from getting booted from school.”

  “What’s keeping him here?” Callen asked, making notes for Elizabeth.

  “His mommy has all the control. The last name may sound familiar if I drop the word state representative in front of it.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. That was the LAST thing that she wanted to hear. Not only did they have Gabe on the hook for his college screw up, but they now had the kid of a state lawmaker.

  Could this get worse?

  Never mind.

  She already knew the answer to that.

  It was like the universe had conspired, trying to make their jobs as difficult as possible.

  “Well shit.”

  She could say that again.

  “What about Arman Smithfield?” Ethan asked. If they were going to have a shitty time with it, why not get it all out there so they saw who they were working with?

  “You’re not going to like this either,” stated Agent Flowers. “He’s got some money and a little prestige following him around.”

  Oh, she already hated the entire thing.

  “Hit me with it.”

  “Judge Smithfield is his father.”

  That was all she had to say.

  “So, the head of a sex ring is the son of a judge?”

  They both nodded.

  Could this get any worse for them?

  “Well, this is going to be one hell of a tap dance from here on out. We really need to make sure we run this by the letter of the law,” she said. “Is he local?”

  Agent Flowers nodded. “Yep.”

  That sucked seven ways to Sunday. Now if they needed a warrant, they weren’t going to be able to use the local judges to get one. That meant more stress, and if they found anything, the shit was going to hit the fan.

  “I hate rich, entitled youth,” she stated, staring at her husband. “This is why I tell you to stop spoiling our kids.”

  Blackhawk laughed. He and Callen came from absolute poverty. He wasn’t going to listen to his wife on this one, and if his kids were ever in trouble, he’d sure as hell use his title to pull rank.

  When you had kids, you did everything to keep them safe. His wife was going to have to let this one go. Ethan wouldn’t compromise on his children’s happiness. It wasn’t their faults that their parents were high ranking Feds.

  “I want you to keep digging on him,” she stated.

  Agent Blaise slid a paper across the table. “He’s been arrested about twenty times, and each one magically went away. If he is the one who’s killing these women, good luck. You’re about to go to war with a judge.”

  A part of him was amused. He’d love to see her pull this one off. It wasn’t going to be easy, and that might just knock the almighty Elizabeth Blackhawk down a peg or three.

  “It’s probably why he was so in your face,” Callen offered. “He’s got nothing to lose. Daddy will keep him safe, and he’s ready to bank on that.”

  Yeah, this was going to really suck.

  “Okay. Well, great work. Keep digging, and if you find anything, send me a message. We’re going to be out doing interviews all day.”

  “If you need help,” Agent Blaise offered. “We can pick up some of the slack.”

  Normally, she’d toss her team a few bones, letting them help her out. Only this time, she had the children of a state representative and a judge.

  This one had to be done right and without a single mistake. Any issues when they took it to court would be magnified tenfold and likely come back to bite them in the ass.

  This was a defense attorney’s dream case.

  She was surprised they didn't have one of them too. Obviously, fate was a bitch.

  Getting up, they headed back out to the morgue. The two ME’s were busily shaving the victim’s heads. The floaters were being done with razors, and Lori Denny with clippers.

  The young ME was giddily doing the job, all the while trying not to pull off chunks of degrading scalp.

  “We’ll check in later, Christopher,” she said, heading for the door. The second they cleared it, her phone began ringing.

  When she looked down, she sighed.

  “Buckle in, boys. Here comes the second shoe.”

  They already knew who it was going to be. From the look on her face, there was no doubt.

  “Hey, Gabe. How’s tricks?” she asked, as they headed toward the Escalade.

  She actually had to pull the phone away from her head to save her eardrum. His tirade fueled bitching was proof that he was stirred up.

  Maybe that wasn’t a good description.

  Gabe Rothschild was flipping his shit.

  When he finished, Elizabeth put the call on speaker before she spoke, “Good morning to you too, Gabriel. Actually for us, it’s still night, since we haven’t been to bed in over twenty four hours. You might want to get your dick out of a twist before you start screaming again. I’m prone to bark back when I’m cranky.”

  “What the hell?” he said. “My morning was shot to shit when I got a call from the one person I don’t want to hear from on a good day. The president of the university is all stirred up and bitching about the school paper.”

  Callen immediately pulled out his tablet and searched.

  “Have you seen it?”

  She tried to stay calm. “No, Gabe, I haven’t. I have a fresh body, and a whole mess going on here that involves a killer who’s switching it up, and suspects whose parents are elected officials. My morning is pretty shittastic too, so cut us a break.”

  “Uh oh,” stated Callen, turning the tablet toward them. He found the online school paper, and it wasn’t pretty.

  ‘Mystery sorority girl the key to the entire killing spree. FBI cover up ongoing on our campus.’

  Well shit!

  This wasn’t good.

 
; Not only were they outed on campus by some weasel, faux-reporter wannabe, but the target on Johanna’s back just got bigger. This was going to put her directly in the line of fire on this one.

  “Please tell me that there are no photographs,” she muttered.

  Callen scrolled, and there was a picture of Johanna and Broderick at the crime scene. “Yeah, I can’t do that.”

  “Well, fuck me three ways to Christmas,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

  “See?” Gabe said, over the phone. “I’m screwed, you’re screwed, and the agents are screwed. You need to fix this!”

  With that, the phone went dead.

  Callen closed the tablet. “I don’t know what he thinks you can do. If it wasn’t for Gabe, we wouldn’t have to be delicate.”

  Oh, she was well aware. The only thing keeping her from blowing up the entire place was her agents’ lives. Other than that, she didn't give a shit.

  “I love my job. I love my job. I love my job,” she muttered over and over again as she climbed into the vehicle. “It’s the best job in the whole damn world.”

  Then she punched the dashboard and let out some animal like scream.

  Both men stared at her.

  When Ethan closed the door, he shook his head. “God help whoever we interview next.”

  Elizabeth was on the edge, and now the pressure was really on. This was going to be a clusterfuck, and nobody was walking away clean.

  It just wasn’t going to happen.

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

  University Main Office

  While she wanted to head straight at the frat boys with all her anger, Elizabeth was talked down by Ethan. He’d pointed out that pissing off the potential killers, whose parents were high up the food chain, probably wasn’t a good idea.

  Instead, they opted to visit the bane of their existence.

  Doctor Hallowell.

  He was stirring the shit pot with Gabe, and that was putting pressure on them.

  So, he got lucky.

  He was about to get his ass handed to him by a sexy Fed in cowboy boots.

  Once in the office, Hallowell’s administrative assistant was right there, holding down the fort. When she saw them, she stood.

  “Sorry, but he’s busy.”

  Elizabeth laughed maniacally as she leaned over the woman’s desk. “Listen up, Ms. Sanchez. I’m a little busy too. I have a frat house full of fornicators, a morgue full of dead bodies, and the doctor riding my boss’s tail. So, you buzz him and tell him to get off his suit wearing derriere and take a meeting, or I will kick in that door and laugh while doing it.”

  She opened her mouth.

  “Don’t make me hurt you. I swear I’ll enjoy every damn second of it. Buzz. Your. Boss,” she hissed, punctuating every word.

  The men behind her tried not to smile, but it was so hard. This was the Elizabeth they loved, and she was in her pissed off glory.

  Pricilla Sanchez brushed lint from her suit jacket before picking up the phone. “Doctor Hallowell, the FBI is out here, and SHE’S making another scene. Do you want me to call security?”

  Oh, she wished that would happen.

  If someone above loved her, there would be campus cops in there, so she could kick them around.

  Elizabeth might feel better.

  “You haven’t seen one of those yet, princess. Wait until I get up on your desk, and like a monkey, start flinging shit around the room.”

  The woman looked appalled.

  Elizabeth was glad.

  When she hung up, she pointed to the chairs.

  No one moved.

  This appeared to be one hell of a standoff. Elizabeth had to give her credit. Pricilla Sanchez, with her brown overly coifed hair, didn't even bat an eyelash. She was holding her ground.

  At a different time, Elizabeth would have appreciated that. Now, it pissed her off.

  When the door opened, a frazzled looking man appeared. His face showed stress, and his eyes were red, like he’d gone on a sleep deprivation bender.

  “Come in,” he stated, leading them into his room.

  “Before you start,” Elizabeth stated, “let me give you a heads up. When you call my boss, stirring the shit pot, I’m going to be a bitch. Not only am I going to be miserable, difficult, and downright evil, I may leak to the media that you’re blackmailing a Fed.”

  He looked surprised that she’d go there.

  “Oh, if you think I care that you have Gabriel Rothschild by the shorthairs, you’re out of your mind.” She hoped that little lie would take the pressure off her friend—or at least off them for that matter.

  “I have so many media buddies who would love to get in bed with me on this one, so tossing your ass to them would be a pleasure. This is a colossal waste of my damn time!”

  He sat.

  “I was shocked to see that it showed up on the website, and I may have reacted rashly.”

  “You think? You have one little thing on the head of the FBI. Do you realize that right now, Gabriel Rothschild is digging into your past trying to build a dossier on you and what you’ve done the last twenty five years? You’re three days past screwed. I suggest you calm your ass down and let us do our job. I can’t keep this quiet if you’re running around like a chicken with your head cut off. When it comes to the media, the best defense is to look calm, play stupid, and avoid them!”

  He looked even more stressed. “You really think that he’d blackmail me back?”

  All three Feds laughed.

  Think it? They knew it.

  “I knew having you here was a bad idea. I wish the board of trustees would have listened to me in the first place.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I get it. You don’t like me. Boo hoo. If I had a dollar for everyone on the planet who has said that, we’d be rich.”

  He closed his mouth, obviously rethinking his next thought. “I was just shocked. Enrollment is dropping, and we can’t afford to get any more bad press. This community needs this university. I need it.”

  Elizabeth sat, crossing her legs. “I don’t have time to stroke egos here. You have one college kid playing reporter. You control the university. Make his reports disappear. Do whatever it is someone in your place can do. Ground him. Send him to bed without supper, but don’t be calling the FBI to cry like a toddler. It’s insane. I can promise the skeletons will be hanging from the flagpole if you piss Gabriel Rothschild off. The man has the president’s direct cell number. Use your damn head.”

  Ethan agreed. “If you’re lucky, you’ll only turn up on the government’s watch list. If you’re unlucky, you’ll be getting a one way trip to Guantanamo.”

  He started pacing. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have called yelling at him. That was a big mistake, and I see that now. Trust me. It won’t happen again. Do you have anything on this mess?”

  “Yeah. We’re tracking the killer. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get back out there. Your frat house is a shit mess, and I need to babysit a bunch of horny college boys.”

  “I can shut them down. I can talk to the board of trustees, and we can work on that.”

  She was good with that. If he didn't realize that would make the nightly news, that was on him. She wasn’t babysitting him too.

  “Maybe you should give that a shot. If they’re killing women, and doing it in their back yard, that might be advisable. I’m on my way there now.”

  “Is it too much to ask to…”

  “Shut up,” she stated, heading for the door. “If you say ‘keep this quiet’, I may lose my mind.”

  Out in the office, Elizabeth practically growled at Pricilla Sanchez when she opened her mouth. She’d had about enough of the craziness, and she was getting off the train.

  From here on out, she was running this her way.

  While she loved Gabe, protecting him wasn’t her job. He’d screwed up, and if it was going to come out, there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Breathe,” Callen said, running
his hand down her back to help calm her down.

  “We’ve got this,” Ethan stated, knowing she was ready to kill, and going into the frat house stirred up was probably a damn bad idea.

  She needed a drink.

  “Let’s get a coffee. I need to think.”

  It said it all.

  Elizabeth Blackhawk was on the warpath.

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

  The shower helped loosen him up, even as it washed away some of the cobwebs that were fogging his sleep deprived brain. Now Brody just needed to get dressed without falling asleep on his feet.

  The last few nights he’d been restless, knowing Joey was out there on her own. What he really wanted was to cuddle with her in bed as they took a nap.

  Okay, sex too.

  Who was he kidding?

  Just thinking about her had stirred up his lower anatomy to the point he was aching for her touch. As he opened his closet door to start getting dressed, there was a tap on the window behind him. At first, he thought it was his imagination.

  Then he heard his name being whispered.

  He spun around, nearly losing the towel slung low on his waist.

  That’s when he saw her.

  “Joey?” he whispered incredulously.

  “Let me in,” she whispered, as she grinned wickedly at him.

  Broderick Seaton opened the window and pulled her into his arms. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking over at his door. He prayed he locked it.

  She leaned against him, wanting to lick up the droplets of water on his shoulders and chest. He was wet, warm, and in nothing but a towel.

  Hell, she wanted more of him.

  “You left this morning without something.”

  Brody kissed her, turned on that she was in his room and arms. Oh, how he really wished they could climb into bed, but he couldn’t risk her. If any of the brothers saw her there, she’d be next on the menu when the playroom was back in action.