“Uh, can I have my hand back? I’m seriously creeped out by you using me as a template for a dead body.”
Doctor Magnus grinned. He loved working with her. She said what she thought and he appreciated that. Plus, Elizabeth was easy to look at as long as her husband didn’t catch you doing it.
“What you're saying is that we have at least two children still in utero, and now the bones from a woman?” asked Blackhawk.
“That is exactly what I’m saying. Before you go a step further, and you ask if there’s any way that I can determine if the woman is the mother of the fetuses, I can’t. I need to see if there’s enough DNA first. Then you can revisit this discussion with Doctor Leonard or your the tech team.”
“Great,” muttered Whitefox. He was hung over, his jaw hurt, head was pounding, and he just found out he had a killer who liked pregnant women. Not to mention, he was seriously in love with his brother’s wife. Could this day possibly get any worse?
“Why the medicine wheel, Doc?” Elizabeth inquired.
“Well, in many cultures when they buried someone, they used the medicine wheel to guide the spirits to the afterlife, or they try to get them to stay behind.”
Blackhawk stood up and looked at his brother. “I’m sorry Callen, but partial remains, that’s not looking good. I need to know. Has anyone been reported missing?”
Whitefox shrugged, “Not to my knowledge, but I can find out. It’ll take me a day or so, since we’re going to have to ask around. No one’s put in a report, but you lived here Ethan, and you know how tribe comes and goes. Most try to escape and can’t survive out in the world only to return.” After all, he did the same thing.
“I’m well aware.” Ethan was profoundly grateful he wasn’t one that came back.
“Well Mr. FBI, what’s our next step?” asked Whitefox, noticing how the crowd had now grown. Soon everyone in the entire reservation would be standing there. He was sure of it. They were on their cell phones, and there was no doubt they were all calling their families to tell them that Ethan Blackhawk, the hell raiser, was now head of the FBI and back in town. Oh, the irony!
“I think you need to be proactive. Maybe talk to the masses and tell them what’s going on with the investigation and to cooperate with the FBI. Shortly we’re going to have to start canvassing and asking questions.”
“If you don’t want to handle it, Chief Whitefox, I will,” interjected Elizabeth, volunteering.
Both men laughed at her as if sharing some private joke.
“What?” Elizabeth didn’t get the joke, and why they thought her offer was so outrageously funny.
“Elizabeth, I appreciate your willingness to face the mob and take care of it. You may have the infamous Blackhawk last name, but they aren’t going to accept you. You’re an outsider without a drop of Native blood in you.” Whitefox patted her on the shoulder, laughing some more. “But thanks for the offer.”
Elizabeth looked at both of the men. “So I’m supposed to sit here and do what? Crochet some scarves for the big strong Native men in the family?”
“It’s going to take time, Lyzee,” Blackhawk said patting her cheek. “Notice you aren’t the only one getting the attention. I’m back on the Rez, and the gossip is going to be flying soon if it isn’t already.” Blackhawk stared over at the crowd. “Callen, talk to them and ask them to cooperate, and we’ll go from there.”
“Okay, Ethan.”
Callen Whitefox addressed the crowd that was starting to grow. The negative response was overwhelming, both towards Ethan Blackhawk and Elizabeth Blackhawk. Seems that there was no love lost for the wayward son, or maybe it had something to do with the hell that he raised while he was there. He asked everyone to cooperate and there were mumbles and stares. The big response was asking why they should help, and that the FBI was not to be trusted.
“What if those bones belong to one of our own?” Whitefox threw it out there, and the strategy seemed to work. “What does it matter who finds the killer, as long as the killer if found, and we get justice?”
It seemed to buy them some time.
Whitefox’s phone rang, and he checked the caller ID. He knew what it was going to be regarding. Word had travelled back to his grandfather already. Timothy Blackhawk knew his other grandson was on the reservation. “Yeah, Granddad?”
“Has the raven returned to the nest?” he asked, already aware of the answer. The vision had been correct.
“Yes he has. Do you want to talk to him?” Whitefox pointed at the phone and mouthed the word ‘gramps’. He almost laughed, when his brother shook his head no, like he actually had a choice in the matter.
No one said no to Timothy Blackhawk.
“No, tell him to bring himself to my house immediately. Tell him it isn’t a request, and I hear he also has brought a woman home.”
“Yes, he has, Granddad.” Callen Whitefox shrugged at the two Blackhawks. This call was out of his control, and he wasn’t going to lie to the old man.
Ethan looked worried, and his wife looked entertained. He found it funny that the one of them that should be scared wasn’t, but then again she had yet to be run over by the old man. Once she got the lecture on how she was inadequate due to being zero Native blood, she wouldn’t be smiling. They never did, and he had experience with that personally.
“What’s she like, my boy? Is the outsider his wife, or just a girlfriend? ”
Whitefox laughed, knowing where it was heading. The old man was plotting his game plan. A girlfriend he could eliminate with intimidation, but a wife was going to be harder. “I think you need to meet his wife, and then you can decide on your own.”
“The rumor mill says he married her for her looks.”
Whitefox was pretty sure that was part of it, but the other part was her brain. Elizabeth Blackhawk wasn’t a ditz. “I believe that would be an incorrect evaluation, Granddad. One I believe was made out of sheer speculation and nothing but jealousy.”
“Tell him I’ll expect him in ten minutes and it’s the end of discussion.”
The line went dead.
Callen Whitefox laughed as he put his phone in his pocket. “You’ve been summoned to granddad’s house, and you have ten minutes to get there.”
“I’ll be back, Elizabeth.” Ethan Blackhawk started to his car, and the tension vibrated through his body.
“He wanted to see you too,” he said quietly. “You should go, Elizabeth. Don’t make him face the old man alone on this one. It may get ugly. He’s going to need backup.”
Elizabeth patted his arm in gratitude as she mouthed ‘thank you’. Chasing down her husband, she hopped into the passenger seat of his car.
“What are you doing Elizabeth?” Ethan Blackhawk wasn’t in the mood for a fight with her right now. He had just been summoned away from his crime scene like some teenager, and he was actually going. Now he was pissed off even more at his lack of balls.
“Hey! Don’t get bitchy at me, because your old man is riding roughshod over you, Cowboy. I’m your partner, but I’ll ass kick you back to FBI West if you think you can talk to me like that. I’m not some girl you picked up off the street. I’m your wife, and you need to keep that in mind and talk to me accordingly.” Elizabeth felt for him, but she wasn’t going to be the target for his frustration, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him face his family alone.
Hell no!
Old man or not, Elizabeth Blackhawk wasn’t going to let her husband be hurt, as he tried to defend her like she was a mistake.
“I think I’d like to talk to him alone, and you can meet him later,” he replied. Blackhawk didn’t want to have her hear the uncomplimentary things he was sure Timothy was going to say about marrying an outsider. There would be unkind things said about him tarnishing his lineage. Any children they had were now diluted further, because he mixed blood with someone not of their heritage. He just didn’t want to see the love of his life hurt.
She knew just how to play it, and Elizabeth wen
t in for the kill mercilessly. “So, you’re embarrassed of me. Fine, I’ll get out,” she answered, moving to open the car door and stepping out.
Blackhawk grabbed her arm to stop her. “You know that’s not it, Elizabeth.”
“Do I Ethan? I’m your wife, but also your partner. We’re on an assignment as a team, and that means I get to meet with your scary grandfather. I’ll be fine during the meeting. I don’t see why everyone who knows me thinks people won’t like me. I’m really good at making people like me, Ethan.”
Just the serious look on her face made him laugh. “Okay, but just don’t piss the old man off if you don’t have to do it. Timothy is eighty-eight, and he’s also head of the Indian council. He can make our life very difficult while we’re here, and if he insults you then I apologize in advance. I’m sorry.”
“Good to know. Why are you and your brother so freaked out about the old man? Because I’m not Native?”
Blackhawk shrugged. “He’s like my father. The man raised us, and he’s very old school Indian. When I say old school, I mean he’s superstitious, communes with the spirits, and all that mumbo jumbo. He’s the tribe’s shaman.” There he said it, and it was off his chest. “And add the Native element with the fact he isn’t going to be happy I married a fully Caucasian woman instead of someone of my ethnicity. He’s going to comment on it, and you have a temper.”
“And you think I’d be scared that he’s a shaman, or that I’m merely white?”
“I just don’t want you thinking that I’m from an even more jacked up family. Is it so hard to believe that I’d like my spouse to not be embarrassed by the nuts in our family tree? Is that so much to ask? I also get offended when people criticize my choice in wife.”
Elizabeth laughed as she watched the tree lined road pass her by her window.
“You find that funny?”
“Ethan, what I find funny is we just had to deal with the nuts in my family. Need I remind you of my step-mother and my half-brother? How they were eradicating humans, thanks to voices in my step-mother’s head? Anything your grandfather says is not going to even faze me, or catch me off guard. He can point out the obvious all he wants. I get it darlin’,” she drawled. “I’m not Native American.”
All Blackhawk could hope at this point was she’d remain completely calm and not go off at the old man.
Fat chance that was going to happen…
The rest of the ride there was nothing but silence. Blackhawk wanted to just prepare for what was coming. He knew his grandfather was a tough old man, and he only hoped he didn’t insult his wife. She was an outsider, and he was staunch in his belief both boys needed to keep the bloodlines pure. Well as pure as he could, since he was only half pure to begin with. His father screwed that one up from the start.
Blackhawk didn’t want to have to tear the old man a new one, and he would if he even tried to hurt his wife. Elizabeth was off limits, even to the man that had raised him. Many times, she had placed herself in front of him as a shield to protect his heart, and he was going to do the same.
But that wasn’t his only concern. There was the whole family home, pictures and stories that he was afraid she’d hear about his sordid past. Ethan Blackhawk didn’t grow up in a big house like she did. Granted she wasn’t a Rockefeller, but compared to what he came from, she could have been. He’d never been more nervous about what she’d think about his simple beginnings. That wasn’t true. The fear was equally tied with when he asked her to marry him.
“We’re here,” he said, stopping in front of a very modest log cabin, and he waited for her initial response.
“I love it,” she said, getting excited. “Did your grandfather build it himself?”
Blackhawk didn’t expect her to be so…accepting. “Yeah, he built it with his father a long time ago. It was a father-son thing I guess.” That concept was foreign to him since he didn’t have a connection with his father. There had been no communing with his own father growing up.
Elizabeth wandered over to the totem in the front of the house and lovingly ran her fingers over it. The top was a black raven, and she grinned up at it. Beneath the beloved raven were a fox and bear. “What does the totem mean?” She walked around it, enjoying the way it looked and felt underneath her fingers.
“I guess it’s like our family totem. I’m the raven on the top, Callen is the fox beneath me, and we’re all sitting on the bear, and that’s our grandfather.”
“Did he carve it himself?” Elizabeth truly loved it, and it just called to something deep inside her soul. Lately, anything with a black raven captivated her and charmed her.
“I think my father carved it.” For some reason it hurt to say those words. He hadn’t thought about his father in a long time, and honestly he wasn’t sure his father had created it.
Elizabeth could feel his pain and smiled lovingly at her husband. “Well, I love it! It’s absolutely gorgeous, Ethan. I think it’s a great representation of the family.”
“That it is, young lady,” answered the voice from the porch. “If only my grandson would appreciate it more. I see time hasn’t changed that.”
“Hello, Granddad. How are you?” asked Blackhawk, going to the older man and hugging him. Yeah, he missed the old man despite the past, and what had brought him back to the Rez.
“Are you going to introduce me to the woman?” he spoke, eyes never leaving her face. There was no missing how he emphasized the word ‘woman’ icily.
“Granddad, this is my wife, Elizabeth,” he answered amicably, and he knew it was about to begin.
Despite the open hostility, she had two choices. Get angry and escalate it, hurting Ethan or remain calm and be gentle. Elizabeth went to the old man, and she did something unexpected. She gave him a kiss on his cheek and a warm hug.
Both men seemed taken aback.
There was a part of her that was charmed by the old man. In her mind she had a preconceived picture of the Blackhawk patriarch, and she’d been right. Snow white hair, braids, and the same look of intimidation her husband had when he was trying to be bad ass. Apparently, it too was a family trait.
“It’s a pleasure Mr. Blackhawk,” she grinned, and stepped back. “I was just admiring your totem. I have to say that it’s absolutely beautiful. I’m very fond of the raven.”
Timothy Blackhawk sat in a chair on the porch. “The raven has always been my favorite for many reasons.” It was true. Timothy loved the raven as it reminded him of his first grandchild.
Blackhawk relaxed marginally when the bloodshed didn’t happen.
“Now, if my grandson only had the sense of a full bred Indian warrior and not one diluted by common blood, maybe I would give it to you for your yard.” He watched the woman. “Despite how he went behind my back and defied me by marrying an outsider with no heritage, when he knew the rules.”
Elizabeth noticed her husband visibly flinched.
“Mr. Blackhawk, I think it’s only fair to tell you that the last man that called my husband anything derogatory, and discussed his ‘breed’ like he was a pet, ended up with me breaking most of the bones in his face and putting him in a coma. So, let’s stop discussing him like his feelings don’t matter, and we’ll get along just fine. Apparently, I have a nasty temper when it comes to defending the man I love and married.”
Elizabeth looked right into the older Blackhawk’s eyes.
“You won’t be spared of my temper just because you feel you have a right to hurt him,” she said it all while smiling pleasantly. It came out almost like she was commenting on how pretty his flowers looked. “I’m very protective of the raven too, since he’s mine now to protect.” Her eyes stayed locked with his, and she waited for his next move.
Blackhawk felt the panic climb up his body as he looked from his wife to his grandfather. Oh shit, he knew bringing her here was a really bad idea. Now, she just told his grandfather off, and it was his fault. This was exactly what he expected to happen, and he prepared to defend his wife.
>
Timothy Blackhawk burst into laughter and patted the chair beside him. “I do believe I will like you a great deal, Elizabeth Blackhawk. I think my grandson found the woman he was meant to find. Now sit beside me, so we can become acquainted. Now, we are family, no?”
Elizabeth went and sat beside him, giving her husband the ‘I told you so’ look and enjoying the sheer look of shock on his face. “Thank you Mr. Blackhawk, I would like that very much.”
“Please call me Timothy, or Granddad like my boys do.”
She patted his hand lovingly. “I don’t have a granddad, so I think I’ll use that one if you don’t mind,” she answered grinning, as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
“No Indian blood in you at all, Elizabeth?” he asked hopefully.
“Sorry Granddad. I hate to disappoint you but I’m mostly Irish, French, and a little Italian. Thus the eyes and hair, but I had the sense to marry your grandson anyway. I find I’m very fond of Native blood, well his anyway.”
Ethan Blackhawk was pretty sure he had just fallen in love with her all over again. Just the fact that she was sitting beside his grandfather, holding his hand and not the least bit intimidated did something to his heart. It skipped a beat in his chest. Elizabeth just did something no other woman his grandfather had ever cornered had done; she charmed him, and she was just accepted by the Blackhawk patriarch. This was a monumental occasion.
“That’s fine by me; the grandchild you're carrying will have warrior blood regardless.”
Both Blackhawk and his wife stopped moving and breathing. They were very unsure if they heard the man correctly. Did he really just say she was pregnant?
Blackhawk looked at his wife with a questioning look, and she shrugged unsure if she was pregnant. She very well could be. It wasn’t like they were worried about it and trying to not have children. They both agreed if it happened, it was fate intervening and that was perfectly fine by them.
“I’m sorry, are you telling me I’m pregnant right now, or that I one day will be?” she asked, watching him closely.
Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) Page 8