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

by Kelley, Morgan

Honestly, Callen didn’t think he could stop. They’d have to kick in the freaking door.

  Callen had to do this.

  He had to take his wife.

  As he began moving, his hips found the perfect rhythm. He was pounding into her, and she was helpless beneath him. As she got closer to the edge, he waited for her to fall.

  The second she came, he pulled out.

  He wanted to really enjoy this moment.

  As she fought to catch her breath, Elizabeth could feel the nudge to her ass. Callen was clearly warning her what was coming. Before she could tell him yes, he drove himself home.

  She struggled to breathe through the pain and pleasure that threatened to swamp her.

  When he grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her off the desk, he continued pounding himself into her body.

  It was the hottest thing ever. She couldn’t move.

  His wife was trapped.

  That’s how he liked her.

  With his free hand, he reached around, pinched her clit, and she went off like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

  As her body milked his, Callen let go. He wanted more time buried in her body, but they needed to rest.

  Tomorrow, he’d jump her again, and this interlude would fuel that sexy fantasy. He knew there’d be so much more.

  All night he’d suffered, watching men check her out as she was the object of their perverse thoughts, and now he could mark his territory.

  It was wrong, but oh, so right.

  She was his.

  No one, other than the Blackhawk boys, was going to touch what was theirs and theirs alone. The deal was sealed.

  “Callen!”

  Elizabeth couldn’t think straight. His dick was impaling her, his body was pressed to hers, and his hand…it was destroying any shred of control she had left.

  Yeah, she wanted this.

  “Harder!”

  He gave her what she wanted.

  In the process, it snapped that last thread of control and shoved him helplessly off and into the bliss.

  “Cumming,” he whispered, as he buried his erection in her one more time.

  They both shuddered in release as Callen rested over her body on Ethan’s desk.

  Neither spoke.

  “Perv,” she muttered.

  “Yes, yes, I am.”

  And there was nothing wrong with that. A little wife molestation made the world go round.

  Callen helped her stand up. Together, they headed into Ethan’s bathroom to grab a quick shower. After finishing and straightening up, they slid into the bed.

  It wasn’t like being home, but at least they were together.

  “I miss Ethan.”

  He did too.

  “We’ll see him tomorrow.”

  “Don’t you dare tease him about having sex in here,” she warned.

  “Never.”

  He laughed, and then realized she’d fallen asleep on his chest. Callen left a kiss on her forehead and followed.

  He’d follow his woman anywhere.

  Even into death.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Wednesday Morning

  She had to meet with her team in autopsy to get any information about Selma Roth.

  They were still hard at work, trying to find something she could use to build a case.

  When she got there, she and Callen were changed, holding coffee, and three boxes of donuts. They weren’t afraid to pump their team full of sugar to get them working faster.

  It was a cheap tactic, but she was desperate.

  They were missing something.

  “Madden and Seaton, I want you to pull IRS records. Somewhere, in them, there’s a potential killer. One of our suspects last night mentioned that Selma Roth had been arguing on the phone with someone who worked there before.”

  “How far back do you want us to go?” Brody asked. “Are we talking years or weeks?”

  She thought about it.

  “Get me a list going back five years. Eliminate anyone who’s still there. I really want to focus on people who quit, or who were fired. I have a feeling that’s going to give us something. This killer is pointing us at that troupe, and there has to be a reason why.”

  They grabbed their tablets, a donut each, and headed toward the doctors’ lounge attached to their morgue.

  “What did we find on Selma?” Elizabeth asked, looking for someone to give her any information.

  Jaxon Armstrong-Magnus raised her hand.

  “I found some hairs. Tony has them bagged, and we gave them to the techs.”

  “Good to have you on the team, Doctor. I’ve missed seeing you around.”

  “It was one hell of a dig for George Washington University,” she stated. “We found a bunch of bones that dated back…”

  Tony kicked her in the shin. “See that look?” he said, pointing at their boss.

  “Yes?”

  “She’s either planning your death, or she stopped listening at around ‘one hell of a dig’,” he said to his wife.

  Elizabeth laughed. “It’s the latter, but later I’d love to hear about it over lunch. You and me, Jax…we’ll grab something.”

  Tony grinned. “I love that my wife and one of my best friends get along.”

  “We talk about your sex life,” Elizabeth said, making him drop the tweezers he’d been holding. “Kidding. Maybe.”

  He was horrified.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “Our victim wasn’t wearing panties.”

  “Yeah, she was trying to molest Callen.”

  He started choking on his coffee, and she had to slap him on the back.

  “Are you okay?”

  “NO! I’m really not.”

  She was amused.

  He wasn’t.

  Chris was digging in Selma Roth’s body and he hated to interrupt their fun, but he was a desperate man. “Uh, do you think someone, anyone, would enjoy holding a coffee for me so I can have some caffeine? I could also use a plain donut. I don’t need sprinkles falling into the body.”

  Elizabeth knew that was her cue. They’d done this dance countless times before. She’d hold the cup, he’d sip, and they’d talk death.

  She grabbed a chocolate donut, his coffee, and took a place at his side.

  “What do you have?”

  “Seriously?”

  “No sippy or bite-y unless you give me something, Doc. You know how I run this circus.”

  “You’re the meanest person on the face of the Earth,” he stated, giving up. “She definitely died because of that hit to the head. We found the weapon on scene. It was a hammer. Our killer hit her in just the right spot.”

  “Here’s my question. How the hell did they hoist her up there?” she asked.

  “There was rigging already in place,” Callen offered. “They were going to drop Cordelia, so the pulley system made it a piece of cake.”

  “Mmmm. Cake,” Chris said, staring at the donut.

  Elizabeth gave him a bite. “Okay, so that doesn’t help us with sex of the killer.”

  They all shook their head.

  “And Selma Roth was short, so that could mean our killer only had to be her height.”

  “Yep, and it was to the right side of her head, so we have a righty. This isn’t giving you much, is it?” Chris asked.

  “Nope.”

  She held the coffee cup for him while he sipped.

  “Anything inside?” she asked. “Was her hyoid broken?”

  “Yes, but there’s no bruising from a pair of hands. The rope, when she dropped the fifteen feet, snapped it.”

  “I really hate this case and Shakespeare,” Elizabeth admitted.

  They were with her on this one.

  When Livy walked in, she was carrying a box of things from the theater.

  “I have the things you wanted to go through,” she said, putting it down on the table.

  “Great. We’ll be researching most of the day. We don’t have any more suspects. The
only thing that’s left is to search Selma Roth’s home. We can do that after lunch.”

  Callen’s phone rang. “I’m sorry, angel, but I have to take this.”

  Elizabeth watched him walk away. Something was definitely up.

  She didn’t know what, but his face was full of lines and stress.

  That worried her.

  “We’ll start digging through as the techs do the trace, and the agents are digging for information,” she told Livy.

  “Works for me.”

  “Where did you get the change of clothes?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Gabe brought them to work this morning. He was frazzled. He had to get the kids off to school all on his own.”

  She laughed. “I bet that was fun.”

  “I’ll be getting something shiny for Mother’s Day.”

  The two women got comfortable on the metal table. The lab was quiet, with the exception of some whirling devices, Chris doing his autopsy, and Tony helping him.

  A few minutes passed, and Callen stuck his head into the room. “Elizabeth, can I see you for a few minutes?”

  She hopped down and headed his way. Out in the hall, he was pacing. It made her very nervous.

  “Is Ethan okay?” she asked.

  “Yes, I mean I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him. This is a personal matter.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Leslie Jefferson’s office called. Apparently, she wants to move our meeting up from this afternoon to now. Is there any way you can handle this without me for a couple of hours? I hate the idea of leaving you alone, but I have to get this done. It’s giving me an ulcer.”

  She stared at him. “Uh, yeah. We’re only going to be going through the things Livy brought in. I think I can manage to stay out of trouble until you’re back.”

  “I just want to get this over with,” he stated. “I’m constantly stressed over it.”

  “What are you going to do?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I’m going to fire her. I don’t need her promoting me anymore. I’m going to keep writing, but I’m going to just go with the publisher.”

  She touched his cheek. “I support your decision. Do you want me to go with you? I can push this off on Livy and call it hazing of a newbie.”

  He did, but he couldn’t pull her from the case. She was already on her own, and they were nowhere near solving this one. He couldn’t do that to her.

  “I have it.”

  “Are you sure? I can call Ethan, and he can…”

  He kissed her softly on the lips, uncaring if anyone caught them. “I appreciate it, but I have it. If you have to go out…”

  She pointed at him. “I’ll kick your sexy ass if you even finish that sentence.”

  He laughed, knowing she was trying to cheer him up. It was working.

  “You have this, handsome. They are your books, they broke the contract, and you deserve to drive your own destiny.”

  He hugged her. “Thank you for always supporting me,” he stated.

  “It’s my job as your wife. I’ll always have your back when you need me. In fact, I know Ethan feels the same. We want you to do what’s best for you.”

  He was aware, and he was grateful.

  He pulled off his sidearm.

  “Are you stripping?” she teased. “If you want to get naked, we can go back to Ethan’s office.”

  Callen grinned wickedly at her. “I only wish that was what I was doing. Since I’m going to be firing someone, I think I’ll leave this here. I don’t want to intimidate anyone or get shot,” he stated, laughing at how silly that sounded. “You know how pissed women get when you tell them you’re breaking up.”

  She found that hysterical.

  “Keep it in mind. I have excellent aim.”

  Oh, he was well aware.

  He started walking away.

  “I love you, Callen. Bring us back some lunch! We’ll celebrate your freedom.”

  He turned and grinned. “I love you too. I swear, and lunch is on me.”

  And it was true.

  He loved her more than his own life.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Thirty Minutes Later

  When he found them, his wife was sitting on a table, flipping through a program for ‘King Lear’. Her whiteboard was set up, and she had everything they had noted on it.

  It looked like they had hit a wall.

  The team was struggling.

  Well, Elizabeth was more sitting there staring at it with a blank look on her face than doing anything else.

  “Uh, you ok?” he asked.

  She glanced over. “Hey.”

  “You look perplexed.”

  She checked out her other husband. He was in another spiffy suit, his raven black hair was pulled back, and he was holding a cup of coffee for her.

  “Bless you.”

  He sat next to her and pointed at the program that was resting on her knee.

  “What’s with that?”

  She didn’t know.

  She hadn’t a clue.

  “Something is bugging the shit out of me about it, and I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Where’s Callen?”

  “He had to meet with Leslie Jefferson, and then he’s grabbing us something to eat. Are you clear the rest of the day?” she asked.

  He was because he’d done some shuffling to spend time helping her.

  “Yes, baby, I am. Do you need some help going through this? I might be able to update the profile if you have something else.”

  She only wished.

  They had NOTHING.

  “Who do you have on your suspect list?” he asked.

  Elizabeth pointed toward her whiteboard set up in the corner. “We have Jasper Mullins. He’s still high on my list. He was Roman’s lover, but I keep hitting a wall with him. He’s not getting the money. We all know there is usually a good reason why a person kills. I can’t find it with him. His financials are spotless, he doesn’t have any crazy debt, and the team found the paperwork for adoption. He wasn’t lying.”

  “Do you mind if I touch your markers? I know you get territorial.”

  “You can touch anything you want.”

  He immediately thought about her.

  Sue him.

  His wife, even in beat up jeans and cowboy boots was sexy as hell, and he knew what had gone on in his office. The place smelled like her perfume, Callen’s cologne, and someone had disturbed his desk.

  It was all out of place.

  But that would have to wait until later. His wife needed his help.

  “Okay, who’s next?” he asked, drawing a red X through his name.

  “We have Marco Deltoro and his son, Peter Cochran. They both rubbed me the wrong way. I know that you said this person was likely an actor, but in this case, Marco was a bit more dramatic with the whole thing. He attacked me, put up a fight when giving me the truth, and wept like a baby.”

  “They are viable.”

  “Could they be working together?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I think you have a single killer.”

  Great.

  “Why?”

  “Remember Bonnie and Clyde?”

  “How can I forget them?”

  “They were a team. Killers join forces when they want notoriety. When they are playing to an audience, they will pick a partner to help them get there. We have no proof our killer is doing that.”

  She understood and took his word for it.

  Ethan was good at reading things like this, and she needed him to help navigate through the crazy.

  “Who’s next?” Ethan asked, crossing off the two men. “Keep talking it out. It might pop.”

  She hoped so.

  They needed something.

  “We have last night’s suspects. There’s a person who was supposed to hang, and she didn’t.”

  “Gwendolyn Graves?” Ethan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “She was all upset t
hat she’d nearly died. I can’t help but wonder if that’s way too convenient. Did anyone see her get locked in that room?”

  He shook his head.

  “That’s suspicious to me.”

  “You’d kick the shit out of the door to escape,” Ethan offered.

  Hell yeah, she would.

  “You’d think an actress who was doing a star role would be frantic to get to that stage. They were all amped Jackson James would be in the audience. Yet she missed it. Why?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  “Who’s next?” he asked, placing a star by her name. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this. It worked for her, and that was why he loved helping her.

  It made him feel like he was still part of the team—instead of the boss.

  “We have Irvin Avery, also from last night. He was a douchebag, and he was bugging the hell out of me.”

  “But does that make him a killer?”

  “No.”

  “What do you have on him?”

  “Absolutely nothing related to this case. Yes, he tried to kill his ex by screwing with her breaks, but a court said he didn’t do it. Was he just super smart and got away with it? I have no idea.”

  He drew a line through his name.

  “Who do you really think it is?” Ethan asked. “Go with your gut on this one,” he stated.

  “That’s just it. There are so many people, and my gut is all over the place. There are maids, groundskeepers, lovers, spouses, and the list goes on. I can’t pinpoint it because our killer hasn’t left anything for me to go with, and Merry is out, and I don’t have a head tech.”

  He heard the frustration.

  “Go back to the board.”

  She took a deep breath.

  “Hardy Dillion had means, motive, and opportunity. He’s the only one who hit on all three. He worked with the woman, he now has her job, and he was her assistant. He knew the ins and outs of the job.”

  Ethan circled it. “Maybe we should focus on him.”

  “He was having sex with her, and he was more than willing to tell us he wasn’t the only one. Add in that he had a relationship with Marta Jones, and that really makes him look bad. Did two women scorn him and it pushed him over the edge?”

  “That would piss me off.”

  “Would it?”