Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2))

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Then add in the math of each woman having one fetus. That gives us twenty victims here.”

  “Oh God!” That made it even worse.

  “I’d ask how your day was, but I’m sure it was just as shitty as ours,” said Blackhawk, as he worked placing markers and snapping pictures of the adult skeleton.

  “Hope you slept well last night. We may not see sleep until Tuesday at this rate,” she said, as she whistled for a box for the fetus remains. “What do you guys see?” she asked.

  Both men looked down at the skeleton laying in the dirt.

  “Okay, what don’t you see?”

  “No skull.” Blackhawk saw it immediately. These bones had to be tied to the other ones.

  Elizabeth nodded. “Give my cowboy a prize. Yet another one.” She laid the remains in the box the tech held, as they numbered it seven, placing it on bag number seven. It would now make transport with its mother.

  “This is out of control. How long has this maniac been doing this?”

  Doctor Magnus walked over when he heard the question. “At least six years, but it could be up to eight years. The bone erosion due to the minerals in the soil isn’t that extensive yet. He’s been working on these burial grounds for a while. This wasn’t an overnight project.”

  Both men and Elizabeth looked up at the term burial grounds. They never thought of it that way. To them it was a dumping site and nothing more.

  “What?” asked Magnus.

  “You think this could be a burial ground?”

  He nodded. “It easily could be, because it’s on Indian land,” then he paused, “Excuse me gentlemen, Native American land,” he corrected himself.

  “Doc, we aren’t entirely PC. I am married to Elizabeth.”

  “Hey!” she gave him a look. “I generally am very PC, when the situation calls for it.”

  “As I was saying, anywhere the Native American buried multiple bodies, they considered it sacred ground. Hallowed ground if you will. If your killer is Native American, then it’s likely he views this as a burial ground of sorts.”

  Elizabeth got that creepy sensation up the back of her neck. “So, right now, in the mind of a killer if he’s watching us,” she looked around before continuing, “we just defiled a sacred burial ground?”

  “You could look at it that way, but usually the tribe decides on the location that is consecrated. This is just some man’s craziness.”

  “No offense Tony, but that’s worse. This killer isn't mentally all there. He’s half in the bag, if not all the way in the crazy sack, if you know what I mean.”

  Blackhawk watched his wife, noticing that her facial expression changed. “Something just occurred to you.”

  “Yeah, but I need to mull it over a bit longer. I just got that feeling like I’m missing the obvious.” She needed some more time.

  “Lyzee, take a break,” Chris Leonard said, handing her a bottle of water from the edge of the grave. “You look pale. Take a few to sit down.”

  “Maybe it’s just my ethereal glow in the cadaver lights,” she quipped back, but took the bottle of water and the offer of a break. She wanted to think for a few minutes and see what popped into her mind over burial grounds.

  Blackhawk looked worried. He wanted to say something, but his brother gave him a look, the one that said ‘don’t do it’.

  Elizabeth took a walk back over to the grassy section where they had found the deputy. She was lost in her thoughts until she heard her name. An agent was standing by the tape, and there were angry shouts from a few of the tribe standing there. Elizabeth also noticed that her husband’s grandfather was observing her with eyes that missed nothing. He must have been at council and heard the news, rushing right over. He was still wearing a tribal robe and feathers dangled from his ears.

  “The FBI need to let us see what is going on back there! Why the cover up! This is like Pine Ridge,” yelled the young man. He was stirring up the entire crowd, and there were shouts of conspiracy and lynching of the FBI, specifically the Blackhawk traitor.

  Hell no! They weren’t going to be discussing her husband and a lynching in the same sentence. Elizabeth moved closer to speak to Timothy, when she heard the yells of the troublemaker.

  “Our blood is on the FBI’s hands!”

  She saw the movement too late, as he tossed a bucket of what she hoped wasn’t real blood at her. It splashed across her body and dripped in sick rivulets down the clean suit that she’d been working in while excavating. A few splashes hit her hands and face and her blood pressure shot through the roof. All she kept thinking was how Gabe warned her to play nice, and she would try… Maybe killing could be deemed playing nice if she didn’t prolong the pain.

  Timothy Blackhawk looked appalled that someone from his tribe just assaulted his granddaughter. This was his pregnant granddaughter no less. He was about to make a comment when Elizabeth pointed at the man, angrily.

  “Get him,” she hissed to the agent on the tape. She watched him get dragged under the tape and looked to Timothy for permission. After all, this was reservation land, and he was head of the council.

  “Granddad, may I teach the boy a lesson?” she asked politely, waiting for his permission. This was the playing nice part. What was to come wouldn’t follow the rules. It wasn’t lost on her that when she called him ‘granddad’, some of the tribe looked over at him for confirmation.

  “You may, sweetheart,” Timothy answered.

  “Where are you taking me,” he shouted. “Cover up! Cover up!”

  Elizabeth pushed him against the side of the tech van and cuffed him. After spinning him, ,she grabbed him by the arm. “You want to see a cover up?” she said, loudly enough for the people on the tape to hear. “Okay, let’s take a little walk shall we? I’ll be more than happy to show you what we’re doing back here?”

  “You have no jurisdiction here,” he yelled. “Police brutality!”

  “I’m not the police, so change that to FBI brutality,” she said, emotionless.

  Elizabeth pulled the kid into the clearing. If he was a day over eighteen she’d be surprised. Thinking back, she remembered herself at that age, and how she could argue and still never see that she was wrong. Since he was spouting big words, she was going to scare him into adulthood and fast. As she cleared the tree line, her husband and brother-in-law stood. Both men saw the boy she was dragging into the clearing and looked confused.

  “Elizabeth, are you okay?” Blackhawk rushed towards her taking in the clean suit. “Is that blood?”

  “I’m not sure,” she whistled. Everyone stopped and looked up. “What is your name,” she asked the kid.

  “Joshua.”

  “Everyone, this is Joshua. He just accused us of a cover-up, that we’re hiding evidence and trying to make this like Pine Ridge. I just want you to all stop for one minute, so we can show Joshua exactly what hell we’ve been sitting in for the last four hours. I want my new friend Joshua here to see that we aren’t covering anything up, but uncovering a mess someone left for us.”

  Joshua looked at the bones laying in the body bags and he looked sick. “Are those bodies?”

  “See the fun, Joshua? See the dead women? Know what I love most about a dig this big Joshua? I love when you pull up the bones that have partial hair and scalp. It makes them look that much more appealing.” Elizabeth dragged him to body number two and pointed. “Don’t you think?” The skull still had some flesh attached; bugs had gnawed on it and left the red hair behind, as a tell-tale sign that she was once alive and vibrant. “Oh look, a redhead. I guess the maggots didn’t care, huh?”

  “Jesus,” he mumbled, staring at the horror.

  “Know what else I love Joshua? I love when you pick up the skull and there’s still some left over brains in there being snacked on by worms,” she said, pulling him to body six. A tech had gloves ready for her. Once gloved up, Elizabeth picked up the skull and flipped it over to show him. “See that pink-gray goop, Joshua? Have you ever seen brai
ns before, not on a movie screen?”

  Elizabeth shook the skull and the squishing and sloshing made such a vile noise even to her, but she kept her composure. This kid needed a reality check and fast.

  The boy made a gagging noise.

  “Oh no, Joshua. No thank you. There is no puking on my crime scene. You can stand behind the tape and accuse, because you don’t have to look at them dead. I don’t have that luxury, but you want to see the cover up? Here it is. Someone buried ten women, letting them decay here on reservation land. I can guarantee it wasn’t the damn FBI! The world is going to hell in a hand basket son, and we’re too busy to be hiding bodies, only to be digging them back up,” she added, sarcastically.

  “I'm going to puke.”

  “No, you are not!” she ordered. “You want to act like a hero and shout at my team and me that we’re out to get Indians? Well then you stand here like a fucking man, and you show me how big your balls are, Joshua. Everyone here has big brass ones, and if you think I’m going to let you insult anyone here on my team then you have another thing coming.”

  “I don’t feel well.”

  Elizabeth ignored him. “Come on Joshua. I want you to meet the team.” She yanked him forward. “This is Susan. She’s been sitting in that pit with those women for about three hours now,” Elizabeth pointed at her one tech. “Want to tell her how she’s hiding evidence?”

  “No,” he muttered, his face turning red.

  “Hey, Josh, you don’t mind if I call you Josh do you? I mean, we’re best friends now right?” she said sarcastically, as she led him to her ME. “Josh, this is my Medical Examiner. He has to cut into the bodies we bring back and give them a story, so we can find them justice. You think he’s covering something up?” Elizabeth forced him to face Doctor Leonard. “It’s fun having to sift through a body that’s soup and decaying flesh, right, Chris?”

  Doctor Leonard tried to not crack a smile. “You can come by and join me, Joshua. Corpse soup is awesome. Just don’t eat before. The first hundred times you have to look at it can make you queasy. I don’t allow puking in autopsy either.”

  The man was gone and the scared boy was in his place. “No, tha-nn-nk yoo-uu,” he stuttered.

  “Oh look, here’s more of my truth-hiding team.” Elizabeth pointed at the techs carefully placing the fetuses in the bags with their mothers. “Hey Joshua, want to bet they have nightmares over dead babies?”

  Elizabeth heard him swallow, trying to push down the need to vomit.

  “I have those nightmares, Joshua, and I bet each person here does too. In fact, let’s take a poll. Who here has nightmares over the death, decay and dead bodies?” She was the first to raise her hands, and one by one, each of her team did too.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  “That’s my point, son. These men and women have been working for days to help the people on this reservation, and I need you to grow up and educate yourself before you open your damn mouth again,” she drawled. “I get offended by being called the Pine Ridge FBI. I also am offended by being told I’m out to get the Indians, especially when I’m married into a Native American family.”

  “I didn’t know,” he mumbled.

  “What we are is ‘overworked, tired, exhausted and mad as hell’ FBI. Pine Ridge was an atrocity and most of us here weren’t born at that time or infants. We’re here to help, and you’re making it damn difficult.”

  Ethan Blackhawk wanted to laugh. The accent was out, and his wife was angry.

  Elizabeth pushed him forward. “This is the finest group of people I have ever met in my life. They are the best at what they do. The most courageous and the brightest team I have ever worked with, and I take a personal offense to anyone saying otherwise to them. Am I clear, Joshua?” Now, her accent was full blown southern, and her team just stared at her, almost in awe.

  He started gagging again, but had the fortitude to nod.

  Elizabeth walked him over to the area away from the bones in case he did vomit. “Guess what Joshua? Those women aren’t Indian or Caucasian to anyone here. They’re victims. So get your eighteen year old, protesting, little boy ass away from my tape line. If you ever throw anything at me or my team again, I’ll drag your ass to jail for assaulting a federal officer. You think jurisdiction matters to me? It doesn’t. I’m three days past jurisdiction into God damn crazy!”

  He started vomiting, and she held his hair back for him.

  “Uncuff him,” she said to a tech, as she tossed him the keys.

  Blackhawk wanted to kick the boy’s ass and laugh at the same time. His wife just schooled the boy, and he’d never be the same after today. “Again, is that blood?” He moved toward his wife, and Blackhawk was pretty sure he was going to commit homicide if he got his hands on the boy.

  “Nah, it smells like corn syrup.” She helped the kid stand and handed him a tissue. “Is this blood, Joshua?”

  “No-no,” he stuttered.

  “Good to know. Now my husband isn't going to kill you, because then we’d surely have a cover-up,” she paused. “Ethan, since you’re Native and FBI wouldn’t that cancel it out?”

  Blackhawk kissed her on the forehead and watched the boy with murderous intent.

  Now the kid looked scared shitless that it wasn’t over yet.

  Ethan Blackhawk took the boy by the arm and pulled him towards the tape line.

  “By the way, Ethan, granddad is out there, and he looks very serious. I handled the punk, you get Timothy,” Elizabeth yelled after him, as she stepped out of the clean suit.

  “Come on, Joshua.” Ethan Blackhawk leaned down and whispered in the boy’s ear. “You should head back to the people you just stirred up, and you can tell them how the FBI is uncovering the remains and not covering them up.”

  “Yes sir. I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  Blackhawk continued, “If you ever come near my wife and throw anything at her, they won’t find you until you look like those women. I grew up on this Rez, and trust me when I say I know all the really good hiding spots. Am I clear, Joshua?”

  “Yes sir.” He ran under the tape and scurried away from the area.

  Elizabeth watched him bolt. “What did you just tell him?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing, just told him to have a nice day,” he answered, holding up the tape for Timothy Blackhawk to walk under.

  “Uh, right.” Elizabeth went to the older man and hugged and kissed him. He held her close to his body, and she noticed it seemed to calm down the Natives.

  “What did you do to him? He seemed terrified.”

  “I showed him some brains and a bunch of bodies,” she answered, shrugging. “I just manned him up from ‘loud-mouthed boy’ to ‘going to have nightmares for a month’ boy. Welcome to our world.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders in a sign of solidarity. “Good for you, Elizabeth. I was at council and word came back that one of our deputies was killed and then all this, so I am guessing you found more bodies.”

  “Yeah, we found ten more women and a fetus for each one.”

  “Sweetheart you should go home. You don’t look well at all,” he said, touching a pale cheek. “I’m worried about you and my great grandson you are carrying.”

  Blackhawk waited for the explosion to come, as his grandfather dared to suggest that she go back to FBI West. When it never came, he stared openmouthed, as his wife smiled and helped Timothy sit in the back of the FBI van.

  “I think it’s just my blood sugar,” she said, patting his cheek. “I’ll be okay, Granddad. Baby Blackhawk is of sturdy stock.”

  Timothy Blackhawk reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of wrapped candies. “Here sweetheart, eat these.” He dropped them into her hand and lovingly kissed her on the forehead.

  “I’m sorry,” her husband said in amazement. “How does he get to tell you to go home and still has skin left on his ass, but I say it and you go nuclear?” he asked, looking back and forth be
tween his wife and grandfather.

  “He followed up with candy. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, Cowboy,” she said popping a candy in her mouth. “Mmmmmm. Butterscotch, my favorite!”

  Blackhawk shook his head and then continued. “It’s bad granddad.”

  “How did the deputy get caught in this?”

  “I think he was passing by and saw the killer heading into the woods or coming back, and he stopped. He didn’t fight, so he wasn’t feeling threatened. He may have even recognized the killer from somewhere.”

  “This is looking more and more like he’s part of our community, Ethan,” said Timothy. He looked at the tribe standing outside the tape. “If he’s one of them, then this is going to explode. When you find him, if it is on our land, get him off fast or there will be no outsider justice.”

  “Yes, Granddad.”

  Elizabeth helped the man stand. “Let me get one of my crew to transport you home,” she said, holding his hand.

  “I have a ride, Granddaughter.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware, but I know who isn’t a killer on this scene. Ethan and I would feel better if you’d let us have you transported.”

  He patted her cheek. “So you do not worry, I’ll accept.”

  “Hey, know what would make me feel even better?” she said. “Come stay at our house until this is over.”

  Now he laughed. “Elizabeth, my little protective raven, you do not need to worry about the bear too. He is prepared for what comes.” Timothy kissed her cheek and patted his grandson’s cheek, as he walked to her Denali.

  Elizabeth whistled and a tech ran over. “Ma’am?”

  “See the sweet older man getting into my vehicle? Resembles Director Blackhawk, but older with white hair?” she pointed and watched him nod. “I want you to drive him home, help him in, and assure he locks the door behind him. Drive him carefully. He’s our grandfather, and if Blackhawk here doesn’t kick your ass for jostling him, I will. Clear?”

  “Yes ma’am,” he nodded, grabbing the keys and running off to help Timothy get into the car.