“You’re pregnant. I had a dream that the black raven was in her nest and inside the nest was an egg. Inside that egg was a baby bird,” he patted her cheek. “Dreams have power, Elizabeth. Don’t doubt my words.”
“I don’t doubt you, Granddad. It’s you just caught me off guard.” Just the mere thought that they might be having a baby both thrilled and scared the hell out of her. Then she was wary of the man seeing it in a dream. Of course her husband had told her that’s how he’d first seen her. It was the series of dreams that brought him to her and look where it got them so far.
Blackhawk didn’t know what to say. He wanted this more than anything in his life, but he was a little put off by the fact that his grandfather was dropping that bomb without warning. Even as a Native it was a little creepy.
“Are you not happy to be with child?” asked Timothy. “You don’t want a baby with my boy?”
“If I’m indeed pregnant, Granddad, I’ll be very happy. In my heart there’s nothing more I want than for you to be right. I love Ethan more than anything and to start a family with him would be amazing.”
The old man was about to continue until Blackhawk had to change the subject. “Granddad, you wanted to see me?” If she was pregnant, he was going to celebrate later at home privately. Not here and they weren’t doing it out in public.
“I did want to see you. Please, will both of you come inside? I’ll make us some tea.”
Elizabeth took his offered arm, and she let him lead her into the cabin. Looking around she found it completely charming and inviting. There were dream catchers, bowls of gorgeous stones, and the centerpiece of the room. In one corner was a gorgeous warbonnet with so many feathers falling from the headpiece. It called to her, and she suddenly wanted to run her fingers across the black feathers.
“Well, Elizabeth, what do you think of this old man’s home?” he asked, testing the woman to see her answer. He wanted to assure that she was the woman needed for his grandson’s life. If she didn’t see past the simple interior, she wouldn’t be the one for him, and he would tell her as much. Carefully, he tracked her with his wise, old eyes until she stood in front of his headdress. Beauty went so far, but a woman of substance went the distance, and he was curious about this woman.
Blackhawk was on edge. He’d seen other women fail this part of the test. When his brother brought a girlfriend home once, she didn’t pass it. All she saw was the house and not the substance.
Elizabeth examined the room, much like she had when her husband first brought her to his home. She took in all the surroundings and smiled. “I find it completely and totally distracting,” she laughed. “I want to explore it, and touch everything like a little kid. I believe growing up here must have been an adventure.” Then she looked over at her husband. “You were a very lucky kid, Ethan. I’m very jealous!”
Timothy Blackhawk grinned at the woman. Yeah, his grandson found the woman he was meant to be with for the rest of his life. She was bright, protective, sunny and loving. Now he knew that he could stop worrying about this grandson. The dream made complete sense now. The raven was being guarded by his mate and love. Elizabeth Blackhawk would take care of his boy.
“Granddad, I find that I want to run my hands over all the pretty rocks, and feel all the feathers on your warbonnet. May I?” she asked, waiting for his permission.
“By all means, what catches your eye first, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth reached out and touched the feathered headdress. “I’ve always been very fond of color, Granddad, but this is absolutely gorgeous. Is it part of your tribal regalia?”
Timothy Blackhawk was impressed that she used the correct terminology. “It is, Elizabeth. It took me many years to earn those feathers as a boy. Your husband has a few eagle feathers of his own.”
Elizabeth looked over at her husband, and she was surprised. Then she tried to picture it and felt very warm.
“I grew up here, so of course I do,” he said, laughing as he knew what she was thinking.
“Granddad, I think I’m in love with your home. The color, the pretty stones and the history behind it all is very alluring. You are definitely a free spirit.”
Timothy laughed and poured three mugs of tea. “No one has called me that for many years, Elizabeth. I believe it takes another free spirit to recognize one of their own.”
“Ah well, then maybe it’s about time you were reminded. Maybe you can convince Ethan that being a free spirit is a good thing. He believes I’m more reckless than anything.”
Timothy Blackhawk handed the woman a cup of tea and kissed her on the forehead. The energy around her was good and pure, and he knew now that his grandson didn’t choose just an outsider. This woman would fit into the family perfectly. Possibly bring his grandson home to them all. The dreams had all been right; she was very sturdy, tough, and would save his boy.
Ethan Blackhawk just watched his wife in awe. Now he realized if she could charm his grandfather, there was probably nothing she couldn’t do. He was hopelessly in love with her, and he couldn’t help but daydream about her being pregnant. She was having his child and then something in him tightened in both awe and fear. There was awe that they may have created life, and fear he’d be just like his father and abandon them both. The look on his face must have said it all, and his grandfather changed the subject and quickly.
“What do you know about the bones, my boy?” he asked his grandson, as he sat on the couch, patting it for Elizabeth to join him. He genuinely liked the woman, and now he wanted to see what kind of agent she was also. Ever since the Pine Ridge shootout, the trust in the FBI had always been a tumultuous one. There was no lost love between the Native American people and the federal government. From the start of the United States, the Native American people had been treated poorly and discriminated against. Placed on reservations, forced to live in abject poverty, and struggling just to survive. It was why they had their own police force and laws, trying to live separate from the world around them. They didn’t trust the outsiders.
Ethan Blackhawk sat across from his grandfather, and he watched the old man with sad eyes. Somewhere, deep down, inside of him, there was regret that he blocked the man from his life for so many years. Effectively, what he did was abandon the man that raised him. Yeah, he checked up on his well-being and made sure he was taken care of financially, but he took all the emotional bonds and threw them away. That was a mistake on his behalf, and now he saw it. Just watching his grandfather and wife interact gave him a sense of peace. Maybe he could have a little of his past and present mix together, and it wouldn’t be disastrous. It was time he started to trust his wife to not exploit his heart. It only just occurred to him that he’d been holding back some of his life, worried she would eventually hurt him.
“They’re human, Granddad,” he answered, sipping the tea in his mug.
“Then we have a killer on the reservation?”
Elizabeth answered, “You may, or may not. The land is strategically located. It isn’t that far from the edge of the reservation. There’s a possibility that the person entered the campgrounds by the river bed, and they made the hike into the reservation.”
The old man pondered what she was saying. “So an outsider could be guilty? Someone could have come into the reservation and done this on purpose?”
“Honestly Granddad, unless we can talk to the tribe, and get them to answer our questions it’s not going to be an easy assignment. Already we’re watched with suspicion. Elizabeth is going to be road-blocked because she’s a complete outsider, and I walked away from the tribe, so I’m public enemy number one. We may be able to use Callen’s deputies to do a great deal of the canvassing, but still they’re going to have contact with us at some point.”
“What would you have me do, my boy?”
“Can you ask them to cooperate?” inquired Blackhawk, hopefully. He wasn’t quite sure that his grandfather had that kind of power, but he was head of the Indian council and eldest member of the
tribe. Maybe, that would mean something. Anything at this point would be helpful.
“My boy, you know that I can ask, but they will want you to come back to your roots.”
“Not happening,” he said, putting down his tea mug almost in protest.
“If you just listen once, Ethan, maybe you could take the easier path instead of being so damn stubborn.”
“That’s funny to hear you say, Granddad. I do believe I get my stubbornness from you. It’s a Blackhawk trait.”
Elizabeth sat silently, watching both men have their discussion. It was easy to see where her husband got his wicked stubborn streak, and she smiled behind her tea mug. She agreed it was definitely an inherited trait. Both men had the same look on their faces.
“If you came back to the tribe, and you had the ceremony then you and your wife wouldn’t get as much pushback. You know this to be true.”
“No,” he answered again. Blackhawk wasn’t making his wife parade herself in front of the tribe like some show dog to get acceptance. She was his wife and not something to gawk at openly.
Elizabeth had to ask, “What does he have to do?” Ethan gave her the look, and she tried to reassure him. “I have to ask, Ethan. I’m sorry, but you know I side with you over everything, but in this case one of us has to keep in mind, we’re the FBI first and here for a purpose.”
Blackhawk was tense that she was even considering it.
Timothy Blackhawk patted her knee. “A wise person hears all then decides,” he said to her, having hope she would have an open mind and help his grandson see. Elizabeth Blackhawk didn’t seem to have an aversion to being married to a Native American man, and this gave him hope that she’d help him reconnect with his roots. If there were going to be great-grandchildren, he wanted them to be part of his culture.
“I’m willing to listen, Granddad, but I’m not willing to stomp on my husband’s feelings and beliefs. If it’s that big of an aversion to him than I’m sorry, but it has to be no.”
Blackhawk felt the tension ease a bit.
“Very well, Elizabeth. A wise wife always stands with her warrior before battle,” Timothy stated and continued, “in our culture much is celebrated around our communal gatherings. If Ethan would claim you in front of our people and have a simple ceremony, the tribe will see it as coming home and bringing his chosen partner. Then it looks like he went out searching for a wife with the intent to return and not him shunning his heritage.”
Elizabeth didn’t have a clue what kind of ceremony he meant.
“A wedding, Lyzee,” answered her husband, clarifying it for her. “He wants us to have a wedding ceremony here on the reservation.”
It didn’t bother, or upset her at all. She’d marry him all over again, on a reservation, on a plane, on a train, in the rain… “I think we should ponder it and if it becomes important then we do it. Until then we don’t worry.” Elizabeth got up from the couch and crossed to her husband, sitting in his lap. She kissed him on his cheek, offering him reassurance that she indeed stood with him no matter what would happen.
Timothy Blackhawk understood and appreciated that the woman wasn’t going to allow his grandson to hurt. A lesser woman would try to impress him and fit in, she didn’t care; she was going to protect the man she married and that impressed him. It was why both ravens were walking side by side through the river of blood in his vision.
She took his hand in hers, twisting the ring on his finger. It was her father’s wedding band and now her husband’s ring, and it offered him peace with just the contact.
He had to change the subject, get the FBI part of him back in control. “The bones were laid out in a medicine wheel.”
Elizabeth pulled out her phone and pulled up the picture, handing it to Timothy Blackhawk.
“Yes, it certainly is a medicine wheel. None like I’ve ever seen before. I did once make one made out of animal bones in tribute to their spirits. It was used to thank them for the energies they gave to the human world, but never have I ever seen human bones used. Not in our shaman practices.”
“It makes me think the perpetrator is Native Indian,” said Blackhawk.
Timothy shrugged not happy to hear that at all. He wanted to believe that his people wouldn’t play these games, and insult the spirits with using bones of children. The person was messing with things that were dangerous.
“Granddad has been the tribal shaman for as long as I could remember, Elizabeth.” He was giving her the warning that the discussion was heading down the weird path. She had been prepped in the car and here it came.
“Do you believe in the spirit world, Elizabeth?” he asked, watching the woman’s face for any emotion or any judgment from her. “Do you believe that there is more out there than just what we can see here?”
“Do I believe that there’s one?” she asked and then answered. “Yes, and I believe that there’s much more out there that we can’t explain.”
“The shaman has a few roles in the tribe. One is to be the go-between to the spirit world and the other to act as the healer to his or their people.”
“Do you think that the person who made this medicine wheel is a practicing shaman?” she asked him. Communing with the spirit world didn’t bother her in the least. Who was she to condemn what she didn’t know or understand?
Timothy looked at the picture again. “It feels like he is trying to offer up a sacrifice or something to the Great Spirit. There must be something he wants or needs badly. The concept to used human bones is extreme. I imagine he wants something monumental.”
“I happen to agree there, and it’s creepy to use the bones of fetuses.”
Blackhawk ran his hand up and down her arm, reassuringly. “Who in the tribe, Granddad, practices Shamanism? Who would be your replacement?”
He looked surprised at the question. Obviously his grandson thought it was one of their own perpetrating this and another shaman no less.
“We have to start looking for anyone that thinks they are shaman. Right now, it’s the only thing we have to go on. First, we’ll look in the tribe, and as we get more information we will expand the investigation outside if need be.”
“I’ll have the names for you. I must confer with the council first and discuss this.”
Blackhawk understood the anger he read on his grandfather’s face. One of their own may have betrayed them, committing horrible atrocities and brought outsiders to the reservation. “Granddad, this is now FBI domain. Don’t be tossing out any Native American justice. Being the judge, jury and then executioner isn’t going to fly here now. Callen brought us in and we can’t let the tribe kill them first and sort out the details after the fact. It doesn’t work like that now.”
“Give me some credit, my boy. I’m too old to think I can enact justice. I’ll leave that to you and Elizabeth.”
“I give you all the credit in the world, Granddad, I just happen to not be naïve enough to know that the people on this reservation would prefer to handle this in their own way.” Blackhawk got up from the chair and took his wife’s hand, signaling it was time to go.
“Come back and see me soon, Elizabeth,” he said to her, smiling gently. “Anytime, even without Ethan. You are welcome in my home.”
“I will, Granddad,” she kissed him on the cheek and headed out to the car. It was obvious the men wished to talk without her there, and she’d accommodate her husband’s need for a private conversation.
“Ethan, in my dream the raven was in trouble. Caution is needed at this time. There’s danger coming, and I don’t want to see either of you harmed.”
Blackhawk didn’t want to hear the words. He didn’t want to be pulled back into prophetic dreams. “I won’t let anything happen to my wife,” he stated, with absolute fact, as he walked out of the house. Doubt filled his mind at the choice they made leaving the jobs in Salem. Bringing her back to the FBI was a bad idea, and he only hoped his grandfather was wrong and the raven wasn’t in danger.
Elizabeth had to
be safe at all costs. Without her he was sure he’d lose his mind and go completely insane.
There was no doubt.
~ Chapter Four ~
The rain was moving in fast- faster than anyone expected. Far and few were the pouring rainstorms that reaped havoc on the land, but once in a while there was a monumental one. This storm would be so bad that it would erode the land and make the ground seep away into the streams and river beds. When these storms happened things that were buried deep were pushed to the surface. There was always the chance of unearthing things that lay deep in the rich, black soil. On such a night, the lost would be found and return to life.
It was inevitable.
One could believe that the Great Spirit was weeping for their murders, and calling back the souls and bodies of those taken before their time. The lost that had been defiled and not given a true burial, but dumped back into the earth and left to decay. Whether Mother Earth was pushing them out of her womb to be found, or just unable to hold onto the screaming spirits- it would never be known.
The only thing evident was that there were many dead now, and justice must be found for each and every one.
* * *
Wednesday evening
Fortunately for the tech team they had just beaten the rain. All the remains had been packaged up and sent back to the FBI West lab to be analyzed and checked. There were a great deal of bones to be studied, and it was going to take the remainder of the night. Most of the bones were soft and many of them from the unborn. The tech team had documented everything, and they’d taken hundreds, if not a thousands of pictures. Not one stone was left unturned, and now would come the arduous duty of reconstructing the crime and chasing any lead they could find.
Ethan and Elizabeth Blackhawk had visited the scene right before the heavens opened up. Like ever diligent agents, they walked the perimeter again, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Checking to assure nothing was missed. There wasn’t even a single gum wrapper left in the campsite. The tech team had done their job. That was a constant with their team. Efficiency was their main goal, and the second goal was to avoid the scary wrath of Elizabeth Blackhawk.
Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) Page 9