Somehow, he felt comfortable there. For once, Callen Whitefox felt like he belonged. Being there made him feel fulfilled, and he once again wished he was like his brother and had the balls to leave years ago. Everyone seemed to know who he was, as the agents nodded and smiled when they passed him. God, he was pretty sure he looked like hell.
“Good morning, Mr. Whitefox,” chimed the receptionist. “Coffee is on, and Mr. and Mrs. B are in her office working. Can I get you anything?” she asked, swiveling in her chair to smile up at him brightly.
“Coffee please Ginny. Just point me towards coffee and I’ll be fine.”
Ginny laughed. “I can do better than that. Follow me, Mr. Whitefox.” She clicked down the hall and stopped in a room, pouring him some. “If you don’t mind me saying, Mr. Whitefox, you and your brother look alike.”
That surprised him. He never thought he did. “We do?”
“Same build and same facial structure,” she added, pouring creamer into his cup, and then making two more cups for her bosses. “Also, I heard you both laughing, and it’s very similar.”
“I guess.” Whitefox really never thought about it, but the idea did have appeal. He had always wanted to be just like his big brother as a kid, and now he wanted to have the same life as Ethan Blackhawk.
“I have to bring these in to the B’s,” she said, clipping away.
Whitefox smiled. The woman was a ball of energy. Following her in, he sat beside his brother on the couch. His sister-in-law was perched on her desk, staring at the whiteboard.
“Don’t you look chipper this morning,” commented Elizabeth, sarcastically. “No fun sleeping on a couch?”
“Yeah, it’s getting old,” he mumbled and then realized they looked refreshed. “Did you guys run home to shower?”
“No, we keep spare clothes here and used the gym showers,” answered Blackhawk. “I have another set of clothes if you want to shower and use them,” he offered his brother.
Whitefox considered it, since they were the same size. “Are we talking jeans or what you’re wearing now?”
Blackhawk looked down at his tailored black shirt and pants. “No, same as I have on,” he looked confused.
“Uh, no thanks.”
Elizabeth snickered. “Honey, not everyone likes to dress like the FBI suits,” she answered, pointing to her own jeans.
Ethan Blackhawk ignored them both. “You look beat. We were down a good six hours, so I’m guessing you had some dreams?” asked his brother.
“Yeah I did, and it was disturbing.”
Blackhawk touched him on the shoulder. “Want to talk about them? Sometimes it makes it easier to manage if you just get them out.”
“Okay,” he paused. “We were all in the dream this time.”
Elizabeth just sat on the corner of her desk watching him. There wasn’t room to discount anything. She knew her husband had dreams before finding her, and then there was Timothy knowing she was pregnant too. Although in the same respect, Doctor Leonard knew also by looking at her too. She was torn between believing and not believing.
“We were in this clearing, all three of us. I think we were searching for something, I don’t know what, but we had guns out, and we were creeping through the trees. Then it was an ambush. The kind in the old movies with arrows flying and landing in trees, and we couldn’t find a way out. This sick laughter filled the forest, and it was twisted with malevolence. I felt in danger and overwhelmed. Then there were three last arrows and I could see them falling from the sky, and one hit you, Ethan. Elizabeth managed to move, and just as the last one was about to hit me I woke up.”
“I think that the killer is targeting you both, much like in your dream. Notice who didn’t get hit by the arrow.”
Blackhawk could feel the tension in his face and body. He didn’t want his wife anywhere near them if that was the case.
“Put the look away, Cowboy. I go on record and state again, I’m not the one that was shot at, or is getting love notes from the killer. That’s you boys. Neither of you know the last victim? Think back, long and hard.”
Blackhawk shook his head. “I had a sordid history with women, but when I left the reservation, she would have been twelve had I known her. I only dated a few outsiders. Granddad made it abundantly clear that we were going to find good Native brides, or we weren’t getting married. I never brought them home for that reason. There wasn’t a point.”
Callen laughed. “At least you had more of an option, I didn’t. Granddad would turn his head for you to date a non-Native. I didn’t have that luxury. He didn’t want to risk it.”
Elizabeth didn’t understand, and her face must have said it all since her husband elaborated and clued her in to his brother’s meaning.
“I’m only half-Native, so granddad was more lenient from the start. My blood line was already less than perfect.”
Whitefox agreed. “I had no choice with dating. I’m full Native, and I wasn’t permitted to dilute the lineage. I’ve been told I need to marry a full blooded Native. Granddad wasn’t always receptive to outsiders, Lyzee. In fact, I’m betting he still thinks I need to shack up with a full blooded woman, even after accepting you. Ethan lucked out.”
“Honestly, his reaction to you is surprising, but then again, I left and he probably assumed. Any children we have will be welcomed to the ancestry, but trust me if Callen marries and has a child the social status is going to be higher. It’s all assuming that he finds a woman that’s Native and full-blooded.”
“Well aren’t I just the failure,” she said smiling.
“Believe it or not, it’s about bloodlines,” said Blackhawk. “My mom was an outsider, and I was diluted from birth so granddad eased up on me. That and my wild streak was out of his control, and that’s probably the main reason I was wild. Wife prospects on the Rez are slim.”
“Gee you think? I thought I’d be married by now,” his voice held pain, sorrow and frustration all at once.
“Whatever happened to the child Kaya Cheek accused you both of creating?” Elizabeth was curious. Deep down, she heard the pain in her brother-in-law’s voice, and she felt for him.
Blackhawk looked over at his brother. “I was long gone by then.”
“She gave it up for adoption.”
Elizabeth pondered it over. “It doesn’t fit for me.”
“Me either,” replied Blackhawk. “I’m thirty seven and I left at nineteen. The child would just be eighteen, and the bones we found yesterday go back at least six to eight years.”
“That’s way too young for the profile.”
“Unless I’m wrong,” he added. “This killer has me off my game. The more variables he throws in the harder it’s getting to profile and isolate him.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m with you on the profile, you’re rarely wrong with them. I think we’re still looking at a male with mix descent.” Elizabeth picked up her office phone, placed it on speaker and dialed down to anthropology.
“Tony,” she said, when he picked up. “What do we have on the bones?”
“Lyzee, I was waiting for your call. We have mostly Native American women, and again I give the answer under extreme duress. We maybe have two Caucasian, but if they’re mixed race there isn’t a way for me to tell. I’m still processing right now, but I’ll tell you that not a fetus skull was found by any of the excavation teams.”
“Doctor, what could he be doing with all these skulls?” Blackhawk inquired. “We’re almost at twenty adults.”
“My instinct is to say ritual, but no more medicine wheels have popped up, so I’m leaning toward trophy.”
“Anything change with the bones?” Elizabeth hopped off the desk and went to the white board.
“No, and I found chips in some of the ribs. They could be from burial, but I think it’s from the weapon.”
“How?”
“I concur with the finding of the tech lab. I am going to venture arrows, unless you can dig me up anything else more co
nclusive. A few have circular notches in the bones close to the heart.”
“Thanks Tony. I’ll be down later to see if you found anything new.”
“Good, we need to talk. I need more staff if you're going to be finding burial grounds on a regular basis. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Tony. We both know you’re the best.” She disconnected the line. Those words just seemed to keep popping up.
Burial grounds.
Whitefox sipped his coffee. “Now we have a killer targeting mostly Native American pregnant women, and he’s using arrows to kill and collecting the skulls.”
“The last woman he dressed up, she has to be key. She wasn’t Native, but he dressed her like she was, why?” Elizabeth thought about it.
“She also was given a bull over her heart,” added Blackhawk.
Whitefox thought about it. “The killer is trying to tell us something. When you get a tattoo over your heart that generally means something. Right?”
Elizabeth just stared at him. “Why are you looking at me?”
“Because you’re the only girl in the room,” he said laughing.
Ethan Blackhawk went to say something and she pointed at him and arched a brow. “Think about it first,” she warned.
“I was just going to mention you have a tattoo,” he answered, raising his hands in surrender. “Nothing more I swear!” Now he started laughing.
“As a female if I was going to get one over my heart, I’d want it to say my husband’s or lover’s name.”
“Trust me, it would then be your dead lover,” added Blackhawk, magnanimously.
Elizabeth laughed. “You know what I meant. When I went for my tattoo I told the guy I wanted my husband’s name, and he asked where and if I wanted it in a heart. I said that’s for sissy girls; I wanted it across my whole back.”
Blackhawk looked over at his brother grinning. “You aren’t the average woman. To get insight into the average woman, you need to ask one.”
Elizabeth knew who to ask, and she buzzed Ginny.
“Yes, Mrs. B?”
“Can you come in here? I need to ask you something.”
“Good idea,” said Blackhawk.
Ginny entered the room. “You needed me?”
“I have a girl question for you and apparently, I’m lacking in that department. Do you have any tattoos?”
“No, but I thought about getting a few. They just didn’t seem right at the time, why?” she asked.
“Hypothetically, say you’re sleeping with Ethan,” she pointed at her husband.
“My day just got a lot brighter, hypothetically,” she said laughing and winking at her bosses.
Elizabeth snorted and gave her husband the look that said ‘see’. “Anyway, he’s the love of your life, so you decide to get a tattoo to commemorate your undying affection. Where do you get it and what do you get?”
“I get his name in a heart.”
“Where?”
Ginny thought about it. “I would get it somewhere only he and I could see it and probably someplace covered by clothing. It would be a private thing for the bedroom only.” Now she wiggled her eyebrows at her boss and laughed when his tan flesh flushed crimson.
“Very logical,” said Whitefox, grinning at his brother’s embarrassment.
“Where would you put it?” she pushed again.
Ginny pointed to her chest, right above her heart. “Here and then I could look down at it and admire it. Plus during sex he could see my never ending devotion.”
“Okay. Thank you Ginny,” she said, watching the woman turn to leave. “Oh and stop thinking about Ethan and sex. I told you it was hypothetical.”
Ginny looked over her shoulder. “Oh, okay I’ll get right on that,” she laughed, returning to the lobby.
Blackhawk just sat there with his mouth open. “I feel so cheap.” His brother laughed and so did his wife. “You enjoy this a little too much, Elizabeth.”
“You hired her. I would have picked a man and then you wouldn’t have to worry about him thinking about you naked,” she added, then pointed at the board.
“Then I’d have to worry about him thinking about you naked,” he snickered. “It’s the lesser of the two evils and my cross to bear.”
“Touché,” she paused, “What if this woman, Caiti Hudson had an intimate relationship with the killer? He was tagging her.”
“He’s the bull?”
“We assumed that the bull was Wyler, but what if he’s the bull and the clue he was leaving pointed at him. If he’s screwing with us, he’s going to give us clues and assume we’re either oblivious or too stupid to figure it out. Maybe he’s throwing out clues that will just tie us up in knots and confuse the hell out of us.”
“That may be,” Blackhawk said. “I’m betting our killer has Native blood. He’s killed mostly Native Americans. I feel secure saying that he’s mixed race.”
“He kills her because she finds out too much or maybe she tells him she wants to get married. He loves her, but he just can’t do it. She’s an outsider, but he still respects what they had and he takes her life, and tats her up so she’s forever his.”
“If he can’t have her no one can?” asked Whitefox.
“Men have been killing for centuries over women,” she tossed it in. “Ethan, if you couldn’t be married to me, would you be driven to kill me?”
“I’d be driven to kill, but I don’t think I’d kill you. I’d want to keep you alive,” he answered. “I’d hope I could still get you by offing the competition.”
“You're a sane person,” she laughed, the look on his face was priceless. “We’re talking about a lunatic with homicidal tendencies. He’s going to skew everything.”
“Women tend to drive men insane,” he answered. “You’ve brought out the homicidal in me a few times.”
“He’s made this personal. Right now he’s drawing spirit guides on paper and flesh, and he’s killing pregnant Natives. He’s trying to lead us somewhere.” Elizabeth was about to continue when her intercom buzzed. “Yeah, Ginny?”
“You have a visitor, a Mr. Blackhawk.”
Both men on the couch tensed.
“Okay, I’ll be right out,” she answered. “Before you both lose it, specifically you,” she pointed at her husband. “If you want to escape then stay here. I’ll take him into your office.”
Blackhawk appreciated the offer. “I’ll face him, but absolutely in my office. There’s no white board in there, and he’s still on yours.” he stood and could see the look on her face. “You're not dealing with him alone.”
“I can go with her, Ethan,” offered Whitefox.
“It’s okay. I knew he’d pop up eventually, and I won’t hide from him. Wyler has a way of turning up when you least expect him.”
Elizabeth followed her husband and brother-in-law from her office. They went into his office, and she continued to the lobby. Her heart ached for the man; he was sitting on a chair, and looked lost and very alone. Yeah, he was a horrible father, and she would always side with her husband, but she still could feel sympathy for him.
“Mr. Blackhawk? Are you okay?” she asked, walking towards him with her hand out in welcome.
“Yes, I just feel a little overwhelmed. It’s a big building. I don’t often leave the Rez.”
“I understand that completely. When I first saw it, I felt very much the same,” she smiled, gently. “What brings you into FBI West?”
“I need to talk to you and my son, and I knew he wouldn’t come to me, so I came to him,” he shrugged.
“Mr. Blackhawk, I would have come out to you, had you called.”
Somehow he believed she meant it. “I thought my son should see something,” he answered, letting it go at that, until he saw his boy.
Elizabeth nodded, and motioned towards the area housing their private spaces, “Ethan’s in his office. Follow me and we can talk in there.” She escorted him to her husband’s office, and watc
hed all of the men in the room. There was no love lost from the boys to the father and just the chilliness was evident.
“Ethan, Callen,” he said, taking the chair that Elizabeth offered him.
“Mr. Blackhawk, would you care for some coffee or tea?” she offered.
“No thank you. I won’t take up much time. I know you must be very busy.” It wasn’t lost on him that his son had a powerful looking office, a beautiful wife, and a decent life. It gave him a measure of peace that he made it through his shitty childhood.
Ethan Blackhawk knew he could be intimidating, and he turned it all on at that moment. The man in front of him ruined his life and his mother’s life. He did something that he could never forgive, betrayal. Then he looked at his own brother, and he found forgiveness for him. This wasn’t going to be easy either way. The entire situation made him feel off-balance.
Elizabeth stood by her husband. The hand on his shoulder reassuringly stroked the back of his neck, offering calm. It was her way of connecting them, and signifying they would make it through together.
“What do you want, Wyler?” asked Blackhawk. Just saying his name caused his body to tighten. The comfort from his wife helped him through it.
“I needed to come see you, and I knew you wouldn’t come to me.”
“You're probably right. We don’t really have anything to talk about, so why would I just stop in?”
Wyler Blackhawk pulled a baggie out of his pocket. “I woke up this morning, and it was on my porch.” He handed it to Elizabeth. “Then I noticed my arrows and quiver were all missing.”
All three looked down at the baggie and back to the man sitting in the chair. It was hard to not find it unusual. They had yet to release any information on how the women were killed. Now his arrows and quiver coming up missing was odd. The killer hadn’t left arrows behind, so why steal Wyler Blackhawk’s? All three went on alert.
“Did you touch this card?” asked Blackhawk, standing and looking at the bag in his wife’s hand. It was a laminated card just like they had received.
Elizabeth handed it to him and went to her husband’s phone and dialed the lab. “Christina, can you come to Ethan’s office? We have more evidence and bring a bag.” She hung the phone up.
Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) Page 38