Act of Blood (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 16)

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Why are you trying to scare me?”

  She pulled off her sunglasses. “Darlin’, I’m being honest with you. I get that you’re excited, but this is life or death. We can’t be like we were fifteen years ago. We have to be smarter, quicker, and fight dirty to stay ahead of them.”

  She stared at her. “It’s not a military zone.”

  She laughed even more. “While you’re smiling your ass off and thinking that, let me warn you that we have two vehicles that have been tailing us for the last five miles. They keep switching positon.”

  She turned around and stared out the tinted Escalade windows. “Really?”

  “Livy.”

  “I know! Okay? I know that I’m excited and I need to pay attention. I left this job, and I’m freaked out that I’ll fail.”

  She looked at her. “You don’t get a chance to fail, Livy. If you do, you die. Make sure this is really what you want to do with the rest of your life. You keep saying you’re in, then you’re out, then you’re back in. If you’re going to ride as my partner, you have to be aware that it could end badly. I get shot at…a lot.”

  She thought about it.

  “I’m in. I know I bailed before when I was raped, but I’m back. I mostly did it for Gabe and the baby that asshole left behind. I left to be a mom to her.”

  “I totally get it. There are days where I want to leave myself. Just stay focused. That’s all I’m asking.”

  She could do that.

  “What are you going to do about the two vehicles?”

  She parked the Escalade in a densely filled parking area. “We’re going to figure out who has the balls to follow two agents, especially ones who are married to the two top Feds in DC. That’s a special kind of crazy. Between our husbands, they can make a whole lot of lives miserable.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You’re going to be the bait, and I’m going to kick someone’s ass.”

  Livy didn’t like the sound of that.

  At all.

  If her husband even heard that…AGAIN, she thought about what Elizabeth had just said. She said make up her mind and take a stand.

  “I’m definitely in, but one of us has to replay what Gabe said. He asked that we keep it low key and not get on the news,” Livy offered.

  That made her laugh manically. “It makes you wonder something.”

  “What?”

  “Seriously, what the hell was he thinking? By now…he should know better.”

  She watched Livy get into position.

  She was sitting on the curb all by herself with her back toward the two men who were approaching.

  When they got close enough, Elizabeth moved in behind them. As they went to approach Livy, she broke the silence.

  “Hands up, or I’ll shoot you.”

  The one turned around and went for her gun. She booted him in the balls, and then hip flipped him onto his back. To add insult to injury, she shoved the nose of her gun into his gaping mouth.

  Then the other turned around despite being held at gunpoint by Livy.

  “Igor?”

  “Director Blackhawk,” he muttered. “I didn’t think you’d move so fast.”

  Livy stared down at the man on the ground. “Trent? Elizabeth, that’s one of Gabe’s security detail.”

  “Yeah, and Igor is one of Ethan’s—or should I say he’s the one sicced on me. I think we’ve been set up. Who put you on us?” she asked, flicking off the safety. Yes, she already knew the answer to that, but she wanted to hear them say it. Then she could really hurt her husband.

  “Well?” Livy asked.

  The man’s eyes went big as Elizabeth leaned on his balls with her knee.

  Ivan lowered his hands. “You’re going to get your ass kicked by Gabriel Rothschild for manhandling his guy.”

  That was the confirmation she needed.

  “Well, Gabe and Ethan should know better. I can’t believe they sent tails after us.”

  “Ma’am,” Trent said, from the ground. “We were just trying to keep you safe.”

  Ivan laughed. “She’s going to shoot you. Shut up. Guarding her is like guarding a viper. You never let your guard down. She bites.”

  “My security guy is smarter than yours, Livy. That or I just trained him better.”

  She holstered her weapon.

  “Here’s how it’s going to go, boys. You’re not going to report this to your bosses yet.”

  The men laughed.

  “Really? If you do, I’m telling every guy you work with that you were thrown over by a woman and another agent who is on her first day back as a Fed.”

  They stared.

  Ivan sputtered. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would. How embarrassing. Worse yet, I’m sure they’ll boot you from the detail. You technically failed your job of keeping a low profile. Here’s a hint, jackwagons. Don’t follow a Fed, who has been doing this for fifteen years, in vehicles she recognizes.”

  “You’re a horrible human being,” Ivan stated. “I’m a masochist for staying on this job.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been called worse, and your sex life is none of my business.”

  He went red and sputtered even more.

  She loved busting his ass.

  “Well? Do we have a deal?”

  “Fine. I won’t say shit,” Ivan stated.

  She held up her pinky.

  “Stop. I don’t want to like you right now. That makes you look human, and we both know you’re not. The FBI created you in a lab,” he stated. When she didn’t budge, but instead laughed, he did the pinky swear.

  “Livy, get your guy to comply.”

  “Gabe is going to kill me,” stated the man.

  They didn’t care.

  “Well, Trent, you should have thought about that before you screwed up,” Livy stated.

  “Fine, but we’re not leaving you. If I go back, he’ll fire me anyway. I am NOT getting on the wrong side of Gabriel Rothschild. He’s vicious.”

  Yes, yes, he was.

  The man had a point. Besides, she didn’t trust either of them when it came to ratting them out. It was best to know where they were at all times.

  “We have to do this interview. We will be back.”

  She and Livy headed toward the theater. Behind them, they could hear the two men cursing up a storm.

  Yeah, that made it funny.

  It was as if they thought this was her first day at the rodeo. Boy were they clueless.

  “See? This is what I missed. I really needed to see Elizabeth LaRue Whitefox-Blackhawk behaving badly.”

  “I do try.”

  She snorted.

  “Okay, I don’t really try all that hard. It’s a gift. Some people are born with it. I, fortunately, am one of them.”

  “I love you, Elizabeth. Despite what you said about wearing a bull’s-eye and possibly dying, I’m glad to be back with you.”

  Yeah, she was glad she was back too.

  Elizabeth needed as many allies in this town as possible. Apparently, it was a shit mess.

  And getting worse every day.

  Inside, they found the troupe of actors rehearsing their upcoming play. They were putting on some dark comedy. From what Elizabeth could see, it looked like they really loved their jobs.

  Maybe someone there loved it a little too much—as in they were willing to act it out in the streets.

  These people would be at the top of the suspect list for sure.

  “Hello,” Elizabeth called, interrupting their practice. When the older woman spun around, she looked about ready to chew ass over their disruption.

  Then she realized who it was.

  It was a game changer.

  “Elizabeth Blackhawk! Come on down! We can talk down here by the stage!”

  That put her on guard.

  Whenever a suspect was nice to her, it made her wonder why. Look at the priestess from the last big case, and the crazy ass detective, who nearly killed her.<
br />
  Yeah, she wasn’t taking any chances with her life, or with Livy’s. If she put a ding in her new partner, on her first day out, the big man would be on a rampage.

  It was time to be cautious.

  Crazy didn’t have a distinguishing trait she could pick out at first sight. She really wished the nuts came with a label.

  “Welcome to our theater! We didn’t realize you were coming here today!”

  When the woman raced at her, both she and Livy placed their hands on the butt of their sidearms.

  It was better safe than sorry.

  Then the woman crossed the line, doing something so egregious, that she nearly smacked the stupid out of her. She actually hugged Elizabeth as if they were best of friends.

  What the hell?

  Here was her proof that the woman was nuts. She just hugged a gun-toting stranger she didn’t know.

  Cuckoo.

  “Slow your roll, lady,” Elizabeth stated, shaking free of her death grip.

  “I was going to send you an invitation. Well, you and your significant other, Callen Whitefox.”

  At the mention of her husband’s name, her suspicions were in overdrive.

  It was odd.

  If it was Callen she was focused on, this was going to be a money thing and not a political favor kind of thing. Since Ethan had become Deputy Director, she’d learned to pick it up. People wanted him at their events thanks to his clout.

  Now that Callen was outed and in the public light, the same must be true for him.

  And her?

  Yeah, she was the arm candy for both men.

  Great.

  This whole thing didn’t fly with her.

  “We would be honored to have the amazing Jackson James come see our production. We open in two days and I can have tickets sent to you.”

  She wasn’t buying it.

  Elizabeth knew what the woman wanted.

  Publicity.

  She wanted on the bandwagon. Callen’s name was huge right now, and to have him at the opening would be huge for her and this potential troupe of merry killers.

  Yeah, no thank you.

  “We’re actually here to ask you some questions. Maybe we’ll attend if you help us out.”

  That had her attention.

  “Go on.”

  “The first being, can you get us a list of everyone here,” she asked. Elizabeth knew her agents were struggling to get everyone’s name. This would make it so much easier.

  “Certainly, but can I ask why? I assume it’s an official investigation.”

  Elizabeth eyed the woman up. She was in her fifties, spry, and she looked like someone who did street art. She was bohemian chic with a whole lot of crazy thrown into the mix.

  This was going to be interesting.

  “We’re investigating the deaths of Roman Conley, Richard Goodwin, and Fern Yoder.”

  She gasped.

  Then everyone did too.

  It was like drama in stereo, and it was freaking annoying as hell. That wasn’t going to work in an interview. There was no way they needed the student crazies taking it all in from the teacher crazy.

  “Is there any way we can lose the actors?” she asked as Livy prepared to take notes for her partner.

  “Absolutely!”

  Selma Roth turned around, clapped her hands, and gave them the orders to take a break.

  Yep.

  They were just like kids.

  “Let’s have a seat.”

  They followed her to the edge of the stage and got comfortable.

  “What do you need to know?” she asked, pulling her multi-colored dreads back into a ponytail.

  “Let’s start by having you tell us about the thee victims. From your earlier reaction, it’s safe to say you knew them.”

  “What do you want to know?” she asked.

  The woman was going to make her work for it. That was fine with her. This wasn’t her first day at the rodeo—not by far. Apparently, today was the day everyone doubted her skills.

  Her husband.

  The security detail.

  This one—thinking it was her first time beating down a person in interview.

  “Tell me about Richard Goodwin and his love of the theater. We understand he donated fifty thousand to this production group to keep you doing what you do.”

  Elizabeth watched her for any reaction.

  There was none—other than she clearly was thinking about the question.

  “Yes, actually, he did. In the grand scheme though, it wasn’t much. I think he was trying to buy me off.”

  That had her attention. “For?”

  “His young love. Marta Jones. She, at one time, had been part of our production, but we didn’t have any roles available for her as of late, so she’s been trying to get noticed in bigger circles.”

  That matched what Marta had told them.

  So far, no one was lying.

  “And were you offended by him trying to buy you off for his mistress?”

  “Not in the least. I have to keep this group going. I have a responsibility to the community, and the arts. Would you like to contribute?”

  “You’re funny. I’m a lowly government official.”

  “You’re hitched up to Jackson James. You’re hardly poverty stricken.”

  That was why she didn’t want Callen’s money. She wasn’t about what she could buy in DC. Elizabeth was all about who she could beat down to get a case solved. Now that Callen’s name was out there, people were going to look at her differently.

  Before, she slept her way to the top of her career.

  Now she was sleeping with a sugar daddy.

  Awesome.

  Today was getting worse and worse.

  “And you’re married to one of the power players in DC too. You’re obligated to help preserve the arts.”

  The only thing she was ‘obligated’ to do was save people from their own stupidity and the jackassery of others.

  This whole conversation made her want to punch the woman in the face.

  “Maybe you can talk to him.”

  Livy touched her arm.

  Elizabeth felt her temper spiking. Apparently, she looked like a gold digger for Callen, and a ladder-climbing hussy when it came to Ethan.

  Great.

  She had to move on, or someone was going to get hurt—mainly this woman. There was no point arguing it, since people were going to think what they wanted to think.

  It was out of her control.

  “What about Fern Yoder?”

  “She was a patron of the arts. She loved nothing more than supporting all the new artists and actors who were up and coming. Plus she really liked sleeping with the young men. She was fond of…”

  “Yeah, dicks. We saw her place.”

  It made sense that she liked young men and penises. She wasn’t shocked in the least. It sounded like Fern Yoder liked to use her money to get some action.

  That wasn’t an aberration in the world of the rich.

  Not in the least.

  Selma Roth laughed at the way she said it. “You and all the men in this cast have been to her place. I’ve heard that she had a voracious appetite.”

  Well, that pointed them in a direction.

  They could focus on the men in the troupe.

  In fact, Ethan didn’t know if it was a man or woman, but her gut was screaming.

  This wasn’t a woman pulling this off.

  In the last fifteen years, women committed crimes, but they were crimes of passion, where they shot, stabbed, and poisoned their victims.

  Women didn’t play games like this crazy train.

  Well, unless your name was Bonnie.

  Elizabeth began processing this. Could it be that sicko back for a second round?

  Nah.

  There were no notes calling her out. Bonnie would want as much publicity as she could get, and this wasn’t exactly her style. She’d come right at Elizabeth, and she knew it.

  “Fern left
all her money to the National Theater.”

  Selma grinned. “I heard. That will keep us in business for a few years. I can afford new sets, I can get better cast, and I can buy the rights to more popular plays.”

  She didn’t sound disappointed at all.

  But did that make her opportunistic or a killer?

  That was the question.

  In fact, she had an idea.

  “Selma, I’ll take those tickets to opening night if you still want us there.”

  “What?” Livy said, staring at her. Elizabeth wasn’t one to see a play, let alone one a suspect had her hand in producing.

  Who was this woman?

  “OH. MY. GOD!” Selma said, bouncing in place. “Jackson James is coming to see us!”

  “I’ll do you even one better. So is Deputy Director Blackhawk. You’ll get them both here for opening night if you can score me three tickets.”

  Oh, if her sexy husband, who sicced security on her, thought he was getting away with not having to see this crazy train in action, he had another thing coming. This would be torture.

  Ethan loved football.

  Beer.

  Nights at home.

  Dragging him here was suitable punishment.

  Besides, she wanted to watch the woman in action, and check out the suspects. This was a perfect deal.

  “We have box seats that I can reserve for special guests, and they don’t get any more special than Jackson James and Ethan Blackhawk!” Selma stated.

  Yeah, apparently, she was chopped liver in pretty wrappings for the sexy Natives.

  “Great.”

  “I can’t believe this!”

  “Have the tickets sent to the house. We’ll be here.” Then as fast as she’d caught the woman off guard, she was on to another topic.

  “Let’s discuss Roman Conley.”

  She stopped celebrating her victory of getting two big names to see her production to deal with the interview. “Okay.”

  “He had a boyfriend.”

  “JASPER.”

  It was only one word, but it said it all. There was no love lost between Selma and Jasper.

  But why?

  This was better than any play she could ever produce.

  It had murder.

  Mystery.

  Lies.

  And a whole lot of sex.

  “Jasper Mullins was a man-whore. He wasn’t above using his assets to secure a position in this troupe. He is manipulative and a backstabber.”