The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1))

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat, walking out the door.

  Elizabeth found Blackhawk in the living room with Mr. Cory. He was sitting on the coffee table and talking softly to the man. When he saw her come in, he paused, “Do you want to do this?” The fact he was willing to defer to her, spoke volumes.

  “This one is all you, Special Agent Blackhawk.” Elizabeth could see he was already in his rhythm. Now she could openly watch him in action, and that was a welcome thing.

  “Mr. Cory, we know how hard this is right now, but we have to ask you some questions. Are you up to answering them for us?” he stopped, to give the man a minute to think.

  “Who are you?” he asked, between sobs.

  “I’m with the FBI, sir, and my partner and I are helping Sheriff LaRue find who hurt your daughter. We’re working closely to solve this,” he continued, patting the man on the knee, trying to use the right words to help soothe him.

  “Okay.”

  “Was Kathy seeing anyone?” he inquired, watching he man’s face carefully.

  “I think so.”

  “Anyone serious?”

  The man blew his nose. “Kathy was going out a few times a week. Mostly a month or two ago, and then she stopped. It just picked back up the last two weeks. She didn’t give me a name, and I didn’t bother to ask. I’m a horrible father.”

  Elizabeth grabbed a bottle of water off the end table, popping it open and handing it to the man. She said nothing. This was Special Agent Blackhawk’s show now, and he was building a rapport with the victim’s father.

  “Did Kathy have any close girlfriends? Anyone she might have confided in? You know how girls like to talk?”

  Mr. Cory rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah, she had one girl. Billy Jo Cummings. They hung out, and she was pretty close with her.” He swallowed the water in the bottle, his throat suddenly parched, as he thought about having to tell his family their Kathy was dead.

  “Would you mind, sir, if tomorrow we came to your house, and maybe took a look through Kathy’s room?”

  Mr. Cory looked like he might start to cry again. “What do you hope to find? She wasn’t killed in her room.”

  “Anything that might give us a clue to the killer,” Blackhawk reassured, again patting his knee, “or who she may have been seeing.”

  It was that little connection that offered peace and calm, Elizabeth had seen it done before. It was a technique she had used herself many times. It was the healing power of human touch, and letting the families know that they weren’t alone in all this.

  “Okay, by then I’ll have told the family.”

  “We’re going to have the deputy bring you home. I don’t want you driving anywhere this upset, is that okay with you, Mr. Cory?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, completely defeated. “I need a drink.”

  Blackhawk stood. “Tony, can you take Mr. Cory home, and make sure no one bothers him. Maybe sit outside his house a while just to ward off the media?”

  Tony Morel looked over at his boss for confirmation.

  Elizabeth nodded, acknowledging that she agreed. “Thanks, Tony.”

  The sheriff and Blackhawk watched him escort the man out. “I’ll leave the last two deputies here, to keep an eye on the media and crime scene.”

  “Where to now, Sheriff? You’re my ride,” he said, putting on his sunglasses. Deep down, he wanted to know why she was favoring her shoulder, but he knew she wouldn’t discuss it unless she wanted to. Apparently, she was going to be stubborn. Before, he never liked a challenge when it came to women, but suddenly he found it very appealing.

  “I need to swing by the mayor’s office, and then I want to be at the autopsy. Are you okay with that?” she asked, looking up at him, her own eyes blocked by her sunglasses. She swore his gaze was burrowing right through her. He was deep in thought, yet able to watch her completely.

  “I was thinking about this last victim.” It was as if he had heard her thoughts.

  Elizabeth buckled her seatbelt, glancing over at him. “What were you thinking specifically? Was it the fact that she would lie perfectly still while the killer piled rocks on top of her? I know if I was being murdered, I’d fight hard to live.”

  “There’s that, and then there’s the method of the killing. Something about it is bothering me. I want to go back to the conference room at some point and look at the white board. I have a theory, but I just can’t wrap my mind around it completely yet.”

  She didn’t push him; she let him keep it to himself. When he worked it all out, she would be the first person he told. She liked that he wasn’t being a hard ass to work with at all. It made the FBI stereotype seem silly. They weren’t always the ones who rushed in and took over, he was obviously a team player and she liked that about him.

  Well, that and a lot more. He was a mystery to her, a big one. Ethan Blackhawk was a sexy puzzle that she felt the need to solve.

  “Now you're thinking.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement to let her know he was aware of her, even lost in his own thoughts.

  “Yes, I am.”

  He waited and then added, “Is it about me?”

  She must have looked surprised.

  “I figured as much. Had it been about the killings you would have just said it, but since you didn’t share, I have to assume it’s about me.” Blackhawk grinned, “Should I be happy or terrified, that you're dwelling on me as a topic?”

  Elizabeth continued to drive and avoided his eyes, but she had to laugh. Ethan Blackhawk saw everything. “I was just thinking about your lip, and hoped it was okay.” It wasn’t a complete lie, she was thinking about his lips and the kiss earlier.

  “Sheriff LaRue, that wasn’t exactly the truth,” he shot back, grinning. Something in him was pleased that she was thinking about him. He enjoyed being in her thoughts, he almost wanted to admit she was constantly in his.

  She laughed. “I was thinking that you’re an enigma, Ethan, and that’s the truth.” Elizabeth parked the Jeep in her reserved spot.

  Blackhawk smiled, and pain shot through his split lip. “Damn it,” he muttered, touching it with his fingertips, hoping it didn’t start to bleed again.

  Elizabeth touched his cheek, running her thumb over the cut, gently. “It’s not bleeding. I think you’ll live, Cowboy.”

  “I’m sure I will,” he spoke quietly, everything in him tightened at the action. He thought back to the last dream, where she did the same thing, and his heart pounded.

  “Want to help me kick the mayor around a little bit?” she wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Hell yeah, Sheriff LaRue. A forceful woman is such a turn on,” he said, laughing as he followed her from the Jeep. Especially this woman, and that was the complete truth.

  Inside the mayor’s office, the press was milling around. There was Henry Forbes, the weasel newspaper reporter, and then a TV station anchorwoman. Once she walked in the room, all focus was on her and Blackhawk. The mayor didn’t look happy that she was stealing his air time and ripping away his free limelight.

  “Sheriff! Sheriff LaRue!” Henry Forbes shouted, to get her attention over the TV reporter.

  “Forbes, what do you want?” she snarled, pulling off her sunglasses and giving him the most menacing look in her arsenal. It must have worked since he stepped back.

  “I want a one on one with you for tomorrow’s edition,” he said, moving back towards her.

  “No,” she replied simply, and then pointed at the TV camera. “Out!”

  The reporter was about to protest and whip out the standard amendment rights blabber, but she cut her off at the pass. “If you ever want another news story that has anything to do with crime, or my department you won’t test me on this. Now, out!”

  The reporter and the TV camera left. Blackhawk couldn’t help but laugh. Elizabeth LaRue certainly had a way with the media and people in general.

  As Elizabeth pushed past Forbes, he grabbed her arm and she winced in pain, as he yan
ked on her bad shoulder. “Let go of me, Forbes, or I will be ripping your arm off and feeding it to you,” she hissed through the pain, “in bite sized pieces.”

  “Then you’d lose your job, and you don’t scare me, Sheriff.” He challenged her. He would love for her to punch him. That would make one hell of a news story.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear Ms. LaRue, Mr. Forbes,” growled Blackhawk, in dangerous hushed tones. Whether he meant to or not, it sounded lethal and promised an ass kicking. “Let go of her arm now!”

  “Who the hell are you, her body guard?” he snapped, but he did indeed release her arm.

  “Do you really want to find out?” Blackhawk took off his glasses and stared down at the man, until he stepped back.

  “Fine, but you can’t stop the press, Sheriff. We have a right to know what kind of maniac is running around town,” he muttered, backing out of the room.

  Elizabeth turned on the man in front of her. “Mayor, may I have a moment of your precious time?” she said, sarcastically. “Since I had to come to you and lose part of my day investigating a murder, I am assuming you have something pretty damn vital going on here. It must be all that pesky paperwork.”

  Blackhawk almost laughed and had to cover it with a cough. It was going to be an interesting meeting with the mayor. This woman was about to literally rip into her boss. She had balls of sheer steel. He suddenly wondered if she ever talked to Gabriel Rothschild that way.

  “Sheriff, this way please.” William Argot led them into his spacious office. It was comfortable and recently redecorated. He sat his short, plump body behind his desk and leaned forward. “I’ll take that outburst out there as just a venting of frustration, and not insubordination on your behalf.”

  Elizabeth glanced over Ethan with a dead serious look on her face. “Special Agent Blackhawk, in your professional opinion, did I just sound insubordinate?”

  “A little bit, Sheriff,” he said, trying not to laugh. He could read her, and knew where she was going with it.

  “Damn it and here I was going for a whole lot of defiant. I guess I need to work on that more. Note to self, be more insubordinate to assholes.”

  “Now, listen here, Sheriff LaRue,” he started, ready to protest her tone.

  “Mayor before you start, let me just say I don’t care. Today you obstructed justice, contaminated my crime scene and made my job a lot harder.”

  His face went red and he stuttered, “Excuse me? Obstructed justice?”

  “Let me first introduce you to my new friend, Special Agent Ethan Blackhawk. I called Quantico; we officially have the FBI helping us. Now that the introductions are done, let’s revisit the obstruction of justice. It seems you found a body, called it in, and then invited news crews. Let’s not forget that weasel Forbes, and everyone else with a camera, stomping all over my crime scene. Then you left without allowing me to interview you.”

  If possible, his face had gone redder, and it was all the way to the top of his balding head. As he began to speak, she interrupted again.

  “Then I come in here, and you are telling the media all about it, without speaking to the law first. That seems very counterproductive to me. Don’t you agree, Special Agent Blackhawk?” she waited for him, to play good cop and bad cop.

  “I believe so, Sheriff LaRue, now that the FBI is involved, his interference can now be considered a federal issue for Mr. Argot. I hope I don’t have to call my boss at Quantico and explain he made a media circus happen, compromised a crime scene, and interfered with the investigation of a serial killer.”

  He was about to blow, “I will have your job, LaRue!” he exclaimed, pointing at Elizabeth.

  She had the decency to not laugh in his face. “One, you can’t fire me, you can only recommend my removal. You can try to pay off the council to get that done, but when I go on the news telling them what lame ass stunt you just pulled, it’ll cost you your job this fall too.” The threat hit home, she could see it on his face. “Don’t play hardball with me, Mayor Argot. I used to work for the United States Federal Government, and they train us to be a special kind of crazy.”

  Blackhawk smiled as she stared down the man. He wished he could have seen her in action as an FBI agent. There was no doubt, he could watch her interrogate and question people all day long.

  Argot didn’t want to lose his job. That was more important than the woman before him. She could lose her position as sheriff, but he wasn’t willing to risk being mayor. He would just toss her under the bus if she couldn’t solve the crimes. After all, Argot was a patient man.

  “Now if you have a moment, can you walk us through what happened today?” inquired Agent Blackhawk. “That is, if you aren’t too busy now.”

  Argot sat back in his chair, trying to catch his breath and calm down. “I went out this morning to let the dog out, and immediately he ran across the field barking like crazy. When I went over to see what was wrong, I saw the girl.”

  Elizabeth scribbled down some notes, not caring to look at the man. He made her want to lose her temper. “What time would this be?”

  “It was approximately seven forty five or right around there. I usually leave for work by eight fifteen.”

  “After discovering her body and calling us, what was your next step? Did you touch her or disturb the rocks in any way?” she asked.

  “I know better to touch a crime scene, Sheriff. I’m not an idiot.”

  Elizabeth went to say something, but decided that arguing that point really wouldn’t solve anything. He was more like a media-grubbing whore right now. Idiot was a second place finish.

  “Where were you last night around midnight?” asked Blackhawk.

  “Out.”

  Elizabeth looked up, “Can you elaborate? Out of town? Out of your mind? Out killing people? See, there is a big difference with the way you can use ‘out’.”

  He gave her a look that could freeze over hell.

  She gave one that was just as wicked, right back.

  “I had a date, and I didn’t get home until maybe one in the morning.” He wasn’t giving her a name unless he had to, and that was that.

  “You know we need to corroborate your alibi, right?” Blackhawk said, eyebrow lifting. “We did discover a body in your yard that makes you look…” he paused, looking over at the sheriff.

  “Guilty as sin,” she finished for him, unable to help herself. There was nothing more rousing than a game of good cop, bad cop.

  Mayor Argot’s face was red again, “Fine, it was with Sheila. Okay? I was out with my secretary. Last I looked, I’m free to date whomever I want, as I am not a married man.”

  Blackhawk scribbled something in his notebook.

  “What did you write down?” he asked, suddenly paranoid.

  Elizabeth looked over at the notebook and almost laughed. She covered it well and nodded in agreement. “Sorry, just some FBI terminology, it loses something in translation,” she said. Agent Blackhawk had written the word paranoid down, and the mayor just proved it. “We are going to need to talk to Sheila.”

  “She isn’t in until ten. I told her to come in later. We were out late and I was concerned for her well-being.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and it took everything to not make a pithy comment.

  Blackhawk nodded as he stood. “Thank you, Mayor,” he moved to the door. “Oh and Mayor Argot, don’t leave town. Until we get TOD and speak to Sheila, you’re a suspect,” he paused, looking down at his notebook, “I’m sorry, let me clarify. You’re our only suspect.”

  Elizabeth enjoyed the look of horror on his pudgy round face. When they got out of the office, she laughed. “Nice one! He’s scared shitless.” Elizabeth offered him a celebratory fist bump.

  “Special kind of crazy?” he repeated, opening the door. “I must have missed that class at Quantico.”

  “I didn’t, Gabe taught it. Thanks for the laugh in there too. You’re pretty funny for a straight-laced FBI agent.”

  Blackhawk shrugged. �
�Yeah, well I did it for you,” he said, trying not to smile and split his lip more. “I wish we were partners just so I could spend all day watching you with civilians. That’s some entertaining stuff,” he paused, “For the record, Lyzee, I’m not that straight-laced. You might be surprised,” he watched her take in that information and process it. Wondering what she would do if she knew more about him, his past, and the tattoos across his body. Would she eventually run like the other women or think less of him?

  She laughed and winked at him. “I love surprises. I don’t think I’ve ever been given one that I didn’t enjoy.” Elizabeth changed the subject, since she was feeling a bit warm, and not sure if they should be perusing this conversation at that moment. “Now, come on, we have about thirty minutes until the autopsy, let’s get going.”

  “It’s two blocks away,” he said. “You want to go hang out in autopsy? Early?”

  “Hell no, Special Agent Blackhawk! There’s no way I’d ever hang out in autopsy. I was going to buy you an iced coffee, and force you to check-in with Lily to make sure no one was causing any problems.”

  “Sounds good to me, Sheriff LaRue,” he replied, sliding on his glasses. “I love when an aggressive woman asks me out on a coffee date,” he said, trying to sound casual. There was only one aggressive woman he’d ever had any interest in, and it was her.

  Elizabeth made a mental note to be more aggressive.

  Sheriff LaRue called the station, while Blackhawk spoke to his partner. Martha was inundated with calls from concerned citizens, worried that their wives and daughters were next.

  Somehow, it had been leaked that they were looking at a serial killer. Her blood boiled, that the only people who were privy to that information were her staff and the agents. Someone spilled it, and now it just got messier. Blackhawk strolled back over to her, accepting the coffee she held for him. “Want to sit?” she said, pointing to the bench.