It was a huge step for him, and Elizabeth knew it.
He snorted. “I’d definitely have sex with her, but I wouldn’t like her at all. She’s definitely a bitch.”
She pointed at herself. “I’m a bitch, so what exactly are you saying, Christopher?”
“That you’re my bitch, and that’s a totally different ballgame. No one is calling you that but me.”
She stared at him.
“Yeah, I know. Trust me. Don’t over think it. You’ll need to see Doctor Gaines too. Let’s go.”
What could she say to that?
For the first time in a long time, he’d rendered her speechless.
Who knew that was even possible?
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Richard Goodwin’s
Home
She wasn’t wasting any time. She had Chris drop her off at the scene before he returned to the morgue to begin back to back autopsies.
She’d called Callen to meet her at the first victim’s residence, so they could get down to business. As she flipped through the scanned reports on her phone, she heard him approaching.
Glancing up, her heart skipped.
Callen looked imposing.
It was probably the mirrored shades, the suit jacket that fitted his bulky body, or the way he sauntered toward her as if he owned the place.
No, it was that sexy hair.
“Hey, angel. Sorry I was late. Traffic was a bitch,” he stated, dropping a kiss to her lips.
“No kiss-y face on a crime scene.”
He simply grinned.
“Sure. I’ve never heard that before. I’m sure it’ll deter me in the future.”
Elizabeth shook her head.
Why did she bother?
“I really wish we would have seen this scene in situ. I hate that I can’t see the body location and everything else,” she said glancing around the man’s patio. It looked like everything had been cleaned up. Crime scene photos only got you so far in an investigation.
“Yeah, I know, angel. I might have something to give you though,” he offered.
“What?”
“I did my search on the victim and his family.”
That brightened her day. “What did you find?”
“His wife was out of town, but she returned the day she found out her husband was dead.”
“Where was she?”
“She was on a shopping trip to New York. She was gone for a few days.”
“I’d rather have my eyeballs eaten out than go shopping in New York City. That’s the mecca for killers. I don’t want to get shanked by some girl trying to buy a knockoff bag to carry her little fluffy miniature poodle.”
He grinned. Elizabeth hated shopping.
She also hated frou-frou dogs that had to be carried all over the damn place. They had big German Shepherds for a reason. They protected the kids and family.
“Seriously. Who enjoys that?” she asked. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I just hate the city in general. That’s not a fun vacation for me.”
There it was.
Most women would love a trip to New York. This was just one more reason why Callen didn’t come out as Jackson James. If he did, they’d have book signings, and all kinds of things.
He’d want her by his side.
Callen would need her there.
“Well, that’s where she says she was. I didn’t get a call back from the Plaza yet, but we’re waiting on it.”
“Where is she now?”
“Not here,” he offered. “Lucy Goodwin refused to stay here. She is worried that her dead husband is haunting the place.”
Elizabeth stared at him.
“Please tell me you’re yanking my chain.”
He shook his head. “Her words, not mine. I called her to request an interview.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “People are jacked up in the head, and here is your proof. If you or Ethan were killed, I’d never leave our bed. I’d pray you’d haunt me.”
He slapped her on the ass.
“I’d even tolerate that, but if you do it again, you’re going for a swim, Cal, in the dead man’s pool.”
He knew she was full of shit.
Callen could see the flush moving up her neck. Elizabeth loved his hands on her body. He could see the necklace between her breasts, and it was making him crazy.
He almost slapped her ass again, wanting to see if she’d follow through with her threat. Instead, he cut her a break.
He could save up his depravity until later.
“She’s at the Fairmont.”
Elizabeth wasn’t surprised. This place screamed wealth, and she didn’t doubt that the woman enjoyed it.
“What else do we know about her?”
“Lucy Goodwin is a socialite. She was born into money, and she is accustomed to this lifestyle.”
“How much money?” she asked.
“Well, nothing compared to what she married into. Mr. Goodwin makes her look like she’s poverty stricken.”
That said a lot.
“Is there anything else? Who found the body if the wife was away playing shop ‘til you drop?”
“The maid, Marta. She showed up at work and when she went searching for Richard Goodwin, to bring him breakfast and coffee, she found him at the bottom of the pool. Apparently, from the police reports, she dove in to save him, got to the bottom, and nearly drowned herself when she saw him floating there.”
Elizabeth could only imagine.
A dead man in the pool?
His eyes open?
Yuck.
No thank you.
“So no one is here?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Want to search it with me?”
Callen grinned. “You know I love rustling through a woman’s panty drawer.”
She pointed at the pool.
“Your panty drawer,” he corrected.
Again, she lifted a brow.
“Okay, just the panties you’re wearing.”
It made her laugh. This was one of the reasons she worked so well with Callen. He knew when to be serious and when to be himself.
“Let’s go.”
They headed into the house to check it out. This was her favorite part of the job. She could wander around someone’s home, learning everything about them.
“Call in the techs to do a sweep. It’s not that I don’t trust the city CSI’s, but let’s be honest. They’ve been less than stellar before. I like our people.”
He sent the text.
“Merry is processing the trace that Chris is pulling right now, so she’s sending a team to both places.”
“Great,” she mumbled.
Callen knew he was already losing her. Elizabeth was doing the walk in her head. She was processing the scene.
“Art,” she stated. “He liked it. The place is filled with paintings and sculptures. It wasn’t a robbery. All the shit is still here. So why kill someone?”
Callen made notes. He knew she wasn’t really asking his opinion. She was basically talking it out to herself.
Elizabeth checked out the paintings. “This looks set up. The wife was away, the maid wasn’t here, and the man was dead. If this was random, what would you do?”
“Toss the place, steal the silver, and try to escape with everything I could carry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She moved into another room.
“Look at the family painting.”
He studied it as it sat above the fireplace. In the picture was a woman, and she didn’t exactly look like she was feeling all warm and fuzzy toward the man. Instead of cuddling her husband, she was holding a little dog.
Yeah, she’d nailed that one.
“Is that Lucy Goodwin?”
He showed her the woman’s license that he’d pulled before leaving the bureau. “It is.”
“She’s cold toward him. Look how she’s standing. They are a foot apart, even in the painting.
If that were us…”
“You’d be naked in my lap.”
“That’s exactly my point. It’s the same with Ethan. I wouldn’t be standing there with only my hand on your shoulder. I’d be leaning over you, smiling, or we’d be kissing.”
He made more notes.
“There was trouble in paradise. Maybe the rest of the killings were to cover this one?” she asked, thinking out loud.
Callen said nothing.
He was still letting her process it.
“Later, call Mrs. Goodwin. We’ll interview her tomorrow. I want to hit up the scenes today.”
“Can do.”
He made a note.
“Bedrooms tell a lot about a couple. Let’s go to theirs,” she suggested.
Callen followed her up the stairs. All the while, he was wondering what theirs would say.
“Kinkery.”
“What?”
“If you were thinking about our room, that’s what it would say about us as a couple—two sexy men, one wild woman, and a whole lot of kinkery going on.”
He loved how connected they were that she could almost read his mind. This was the epitome of a relationship, and with each day together, they were getting stronger.
“Here’s their room.”
They headed inside. Elizabeth looked around. “She didn’t sleep here.”
“How do you know?”
“There are absolutely no girly things. Where’s the nail polish, the makeup, the heels?” she asked, pulling open a closet.
She’d been right.
It was all men’s things.
“In our room, there’s lip gloss on the nightstand for when I’m making out with my husbands. There’s lotion that smells like my perfume.”
He loved that best.
“Yeah, this is off.”
He agreed.
“Our couple had trouble.”
“So maybe she killed him or had him killed, and the rest is a cover up.”
She shook her head. “If Roman Conley is attached to this, he’s our first victim. He disappeared days ago. He’s still out there.”
She had a point.
“This is victim two. I don’t know if she’s smart enough to pull this off. I have to interview her first.”
He got it.
“What’s in his drawers?” she asked, pointing at the one nightstand.
Callen opened it.
“Lube, condoms, and more condoms. Someone was worried about having a child.”
She pulled his cell from his pocket to study the dead man’s information. “They were older, right?”
He read over her shoulder. “Yes. Both were in their fifties.”
She pointed at the condoms. “So why the protection? I doubt he was going to knock her up.”
That meant one thing.
Some other female bird was fluffing her feathers in the Goodwin nest.
“Where does she sleep?” Elizabeth asked, looking around.
“Let’s pick a new room.”
They checked a few in the hall. At the very end of the other hall, they found it.
“She didn’t want to be near him.”
“I wonder why?”
“Sex,” she offered. “In most cases, when men and women stop sleeping together, someone has come between them.”
Elizabeth stared at him.
“I’ll never cheat.”
She laughed. “I wasn’t even thinking that. I was trying to picture him sneaking a woman into the house under his wife’s nose. That doesn’t jive for me.”
Callen stared at her. “How do you know that he was?” This wasn’t his first day, but still…
Elizabeth had been doing this a long time.
“Men are creatures of habit. Where do you like to have sex?” she asked.
“In our bedroom. There’s a lock on the door, and the bed is big, soft, and bouncy.”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Me too. If I were single, I’d still want to get off in my room. Check the drawers.”
Callen did. What he found surprised him. Elizabeth had been right. Someone was servicing her own needs. There were vibrators of every shape and color.
“Yeah, this isn’t a recent thing. She had to have time to collect those toys, try them out, decide if she needed something new. We have one, and it’s to play with as a couple. She has…” She counted. “Seven of them, and I doubt she’s having Dick in her room, let alone her.”
He made notes. “So, this was ongoing. That’s a big sign.”
She agreed.
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Elizabeth stated. “I want to interview the maid too. Where is she?”
“Marta isn’t working today. She’s been sent home until we clear the house.”
“Okay, put her on my list. I want to talk to her right after I interview the wife. While she may feign ignorance, I bet the maid won’t. The hired help sees everything.”
Elizabeth thought about Maeve Kelley, their housekeeper. She was dating their father, and it seemed to be going well. So far, there were no Bly flashbacks, and the family was good with that. She knew what Maeve saw in her day, and she was hoping Richard Goodwin’s maid was the same.
“Let’s head to the next scene.”
“The dead woman?” Callen asked.
“Yeah, I want to search Fern Yoder’s home. That’s the freshest scene, and maybe I’ll find something there.”
“Okay, angel. Let’s go.”
She knew Callen would get her there. For that moment, she was working. In her head, a picture was beginning to form. It was missing a lot of pieces, but she had faith.
They’d figure it out.
One way or another.
They always did.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Gabriel Rothschild’s
Home
He took the day off. After the long week of working on a million things for the president, Gabe needed some down time. Right now, his kids were at school and his wife was beneath him in bed.
It was a beautiful thing.
They’d sent the kids packing, and then he jumped Livy repeatedly until he’d gotten it out of his system.
She’d passed testing.
He couldn’t believe it.
Gabe knew he was a horrible person for wanting her to fail, but he couldn’t lie to himself. If she didn’t get back on the streets, she’d be at home…safe.
That’s what he wanted.
He didn’t like the idea that his woman was running around DC with Elizabeth Blackhawk.
She was a menace alone.
Together?
Yeah, they were dangerous.
Elizabeth was a magnet for being shot at, hurt, or in really shitty situations. Criminals hated and feared her, and that made it something he feared.
His wife was going to be riding shotgun.
This was a hard pill to swallow. Maybe that’s why he really took the day off. He wanted this moment with his wife before the shit hit the fan.
“Mmmm…Gabriel, you’re a wild man. What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “Or should I ask who’s gotten into me?” Livy teased as her husband was still buried in her body.
If she could stand, she’d applaud.
It had been one hell of a performance. Livy didn’t think he could top it.
He gazed down at his red haired hellion. She hadn’t changed much in the fifteen years they’d been a couple. She was still the love of his life, mother of his children, and most beautiful woman in the world.
“I’m glad I could keep you entertained,” he offered, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose before he rolled off her body to give her some space. The second he was out of her, he felt cold and worried.
“Tell me what has you freaked out,” she offered.
Gabe glanced over, his piercing gaze meeting hers. “What are you talking about?”
She laughed as she went up on her elbow.
If he really thought s
he couldn’t tell, he must think she was an idiot.
“You’re worried. I can see it in your eyes, and whenever you’re upset, you like to fornicate like a horny teenager—not that I’m complaining. I like that part best.”
He sighed.
“It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Going back to work?”
“Yes.”
“What can I do to make you see that everything is going to be okay?”
Yeah, there was absolutely nothing that would do that. Deep down, he was living with the fear for the last few weeks. The day had finally arrived, and Gabe was staring it down.
It sucked.
“Do you want me to turn in my gun and badge and not go back?”
He stared over at her. “You know I can’t and won’t ask that of you.”
She was aware.
“Gabriel.”
The lines of tension on his face told the tale. While he had a very stressful job, he looked like he was sinking, and fast.
“I can’t lose you. I can’t wake up and be the mother and father to our six kids, and know I’ll never see you again. I’m safe in the office. You’re going to be out with Elizabeth.”
There.
It was out.
“She’s safe.”
That made him laugh, and it wasn’t a good one. It was more like one of a crazy person going off the rails.
“If she’s your idea of safe, we’re screwed. You can’t possibly look back at all the times she’s been shot, stabbed, abducted, and think that’s not worrisome.”
“Babe.”
He touched her cheek. “I’m scared, Olivia. I’m afraid to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
He closed his eyes.
“I can’t do this to you. You’re already stressed enough. I won’t go back. It’s okay, Gabriel. I get it. You need me here.”
He heard it in her voice.
“But you need to be there. The last fifteen years, you made the sacrifice, Olivia. I had it easy. I need to give you this. You deserve it.”
She touched his cheek. “I love you, Gabriel.”
“I love you too, Livy. I’m going to shower and then check in with Ethan. I hope the place is still standing. Elizabeth is out on a new case.”
She watched him roll out of bed. His body rippled with tension, and she hated it.
Act of Blood (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 16) Page 9