“It is just one of many that reference witches in the Bible, Sheriff LaRue,” she said, softly. “They are an abomination, and therefore need to be converted back to God.”
“Or?” Elizabeth leaned forward.
“God handles the ‘or’ part, Sheriff LaRue,” said Dansforth, “We handle the trying to lead them back onto the right path.” He stood, taking back the bible from the Indian. “We lead the sheep back to the Shepard, we don’t judge them.”
“I see.” They seemed pretty judgmental to her.
“Is that all you are here for?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
Elizabeth took the file folder from Blackhawk and pulled out the pictures out of the murdered women. They were the smiling face shots and happy photos, and when she laid the photo of Tara Scott down, Dansforth’s wife reacted. It was slight, but she was the only photo that earned that reaction.
Bingo!
“Do any of these women look familiar?” she asked, pointing at each one, and then picking up the Tara Scott picture, and holding it towards the woman.
“No.”
She looked down and to the left. It was a tell that she was lying. One or both of them knew Tara Scott. She’d bet her badge on it.
“Okay, thank you for all your help.” Standing, she gathering the pictures and tucked them back into the folder. “I’ll be back, if I have more questions,” she added as a warning.
“If you wish Sheriff, you can join us tomorrow for our sermon and fellowship afterwards,” Dansforth crossed his arms in challenge, as if taunting her.
Normally she took a dare, but in this case she had a better idea. “I appreciate the offer,” she looked over at Blackhawk. “Love bug, do you feel like going to church with me tomorrow?” she had a serious look on her face.
He nearly laughed. “Whatever you want, sweet cheeks,” came his reply as he remained completely deadpan. It took everything he had to not laugh.
“Thanks, we’ll think about it, but don’t bet on it. We like to sleep in after all the heathen sex,” she tossed that out there, leaving them both with their mouths hanging open. “It’s exhausting.”
Elizabeth nodded at their son, as they made their way out of the building. She was pissed and irritated at the way Blackhawk was treated, and then she was pissed and irritated at the way they lied about knowing the dead woman. She was just all around pissed today.
“You know, you’re really bad at playing nice with suspects,” he said, laughing as they got into her Jeep. “Really, Lyzee? Love bug and exhausting heathen sex?”
“You think that was me not playing nice? Cowboy, you haven’t seen anything yet.” she said, smiling back. She was glad to see he wasn’t hurt by their redneck behavior. “For the record, it was spur of the moment, what can I say? You should talk; you called me sweet cheeks and gave our bible to a homeless man.”
He grinned lecherously. “Well if you must know…”
“Stop right there,” she laughed. “No need to elaborate during work hours.
“Let’s grab lunch,” he said. He wanted to think everything through, and regroup.
Elizabeth nodded.
“You're thinking already”
“She lied like a rug,” said Elizabeth, starting the Jeep. She was glad when the air cooled and it put a little of a chill on her temper.
“Yeah, she knew the first victim. I think we need to visit Tara Scott’s family, and see if they were part of the church.”
“I have a better idea. I gave the research on Tara Scott to Christopher. I’d like to have him do the follow up; he needs some practice if he ever wants to move out of the role of deputy. Do you have any issue with that?”
“I don’t see a problem; it shouldn’t be too hard a job. She’s been deceased a year now, or more. It won’t be as challenging.”
“Before Mayor Argot hired me, Christopher had the hopes of getting the job. I got it over him because I’m seasoned, and he’s green. I want to help him out.”
“Make the call and do it.” Blackhawk was impressed at her willingness to worry about her staff’s feelings and ambitions.
Elizabeth called his cell, explained what she wanted him to handle, and she couldn’t help but grin as the deputy was all excited to interview the family. She ended the call, and now something else was bothering her.
“I take it that went well?”
“Yeah it did,” she didn’t know what to say to Blackhawk. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, changing the subject, hoping he understood.
“For what, Lyzee? Taking away the miserable job of interviewing a victim’s family? Don’t be.” Then he realized that wasn’t what she meant. “Hey, it’s okay! You aren’t the bigot, they are,” he caressed her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. “I’ll apologize for kissing you on duty. Want me to run back in and repent?” he teased, lips barely touching hers in a whisper soft kiss.
She laughed at his comment and replied, “I’ll let it slide this one time.” When he kissed her again, she was still grinning. “Maybe two times,” she was enjoying the kisses, but then realized she was breaking her own rules and at any second might climb into his lap. “Okay Cowboy, let’s get some lunch.” Elizabeth pulled away, feeling really warm.
Blackhawk watched her lick her lips, and he forced himself to look away. Kissing her was a bad idea while they were working.
“Let’s get out of here,” she nodded towards the minister’s son, watching them from the sidewalk.
Something about the hate in the man’s eyes worried Blackhawk. He made a mental note to keep his eyes open for James Dansforth.
He stood on the sidewalk, watching them with eyes that missed nothing, and filled with contempt and disgust as they left the parking lot. His father had been right. The sheriff was a woman of loose morals. Turning, he headed back into the church. He would pray for her soul, and God would take care of her sins.
Elizabeth and Blackhawk took a seat at ‘The Barrel’, enjoying the air conditioning, and the people milling around. It was nice to just sit down and enjoy lunch like typical people, even though the situation was anything but normal.
Beatrice wandered out to the table, two glasses of iced tea in her hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted sweet or unsweetened.” She placed them down, in front of the FBI agent.
“This is fine, Beatrice. Thank you, very much,” he replied, politely.
“Oh wow, an FBI agent with manners,” she said, grinning at the sheriff. “How come you didn’t get any of those in training, Lyzee?” The snap of her gum punctuated it.
Elizabeth sat back, and looked up at the woman ready to laugh. “I skipped that class at Quantico. Also just so you know I also skipped the one on fixing parking tickets for waitresses when they have a smart ass attitude.”
Beatrice winked at her.
Blackhawk laughed at the exchange. How could he not? Elizabeth LaRue had such an easy nature about her, it amazed him, and yet she slipped back into FBI easily. Every day he liked her more and more as a person.
Damn, he was getting attached.
“George is making up your favorite today, you want that?” Beatrice waited to write it down. “How about the FBI agent?”
Elizabeth took a sip of tea. “We’ll both have it,” she took control, and enjoyed the lift of his dark eyebrow and twinkle in his eyes. The man had too much control; she was going to crack it yet.
“Works for me.” Beatrice scribbled on her pad and headed off to put in their order.
“Now I’m intrigued,” he said, smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman order for me before.” And he never had. This woman was a constant surprise, and something about that was very alluring. Elizabeth was smart, beautiful and very ballsy.
She leaned in so their words would be kept private, “Does that bother you, that I strip away some of your control, Cowboy?” Elizabeth’s lips were close to his ear; she nipped it slowly, and enjoyed the way his body tensed as her teeth teased his flesh.
&nbs
p; Blackhawk tried to not react to her, but it was hard. She was right there. Elizabeth smelled spicy like her soap, and he remembered the previous night. “Not in the least, that is unless you just ordered me a salad. Then we have to have a serious discussion about who is going to be in control of this relationship.”
She laughed low and grinned enticingly at him, “I guess you’ll have to get to know me better then. I don’t often just eat a salad; I’m a red meat lover.”
“How do you feel about bacon?” he asked, teasing her.
“It’s a food group, isn’t it?” Elizabeth gave him a wink, knowing what was coming for lunch.
“Then I’m most definitely intrigued, by a lot of things about you.”
She was about to say more, but her brother wandered over, with two plates in his hand, and placed them in front of them both. “Enjoy,” he said, walking away.
Before him sat the biggest, meanest, bacon cheeseburger he had ever seen in his life. There had to be six strips of bacon covered in cheese on top of the juicy burger.
Elizabeth laughed. “Tomorrow I run, so today I eat.” She laid her napkin on her lap, knowing this was about to get messy. “Still intrigued?” she inquired, watching him with laughter in her eyes.
“No, now I have to say I’m in love,” he said the words, his eyes meeting hers, and he wasn’t sure he was joking. He was afraid to dwell on it, only because he didn’t want her to panic and run.
“Cowboy, we’ll talk love on our morning run tomorrow when we burn off this fat.” Elizabeth wondered if he’s join her. “Want to join me tomorrow, Ethan?” she winked.
“I’ll be there,” he said, thinking about the tiny shorts. Hell couldn’t keep him away.
“Jump in, Ethan, don’t be afraid to get messy. The fun things in life are always the messiest.”
He was pretty sure she meant the burger, but he couldn’t help but think back to their earlier conversation. “You’re on, Elizabeth LaRue.” He rolled up the sleeves of his tailored black dress shirt and grinned. She may be right about messy having its advantages.
They worked through lunch, passing folders back and forth, and then finally getting the phone call they were waiting for all day. Tox results were in on the last three victims, and they could head to the morgue. Soon they would have another clue as to what killed these women, and hopefully one more step closer to finding their killer.
Outside, she tossed him the keys. “Can you drive? I need to make a few calls.”
He snagged them in the air and hopped into her seat. “Wow, first you order me a bacon cheeseburger, then you’re letting me drive your Jeep? I do believe you’re trying to seduce me. Was that a class at Quantico too?”
She laughed. “No, I believe that’s just me knowing that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and letting him drive the car.”
Blackhawk would have laughed, but he felt the heart in question pounding in his chest. The idea that she was trying to get into his heart tripped him up. Okay, maybe it was just like the marriage comment. It was hard to tell when Elizabeth LaRue was serious and teasing him.
Damn it!
Elizabeth noticed the look on his face, and changed the subject. “Do you let women drive your vehicle at home?”
“Only if I’m crazy in love with them, but I’ll go on record and confess. No woman has ever driven my vehicle,” he answered honestly, starting up the Jeep.
If she had any comment, it was gone as she dialed the phone. She was checking in with her deputies, to make sure they were all doing what they needed to be doing.
“Is everyone good?” Blackhawk waited for her to end the call.
“So far they are.”
“Great,” he noticed she was dialing again. Whoever she was calling, she knew the number by heart.
“I got your message.” It was concise and to the point. There was a pause for their response. “You can come by my place tonight after shift, and we can talk then.”
He felt a small weight lifted from his heart. She wasn’t going to not tell him about the meeting, she just had prioritized it for later.
“Yes, he will be there,” she stated. “Let me say this as your boss. This meeting is non-negotiable. You will be showing up tonight after shift, or you can come the last hour of your shift if its work related, but we will be having this conversation tonight at my place. Clear?”
When she ended the call, she sighed.
“Tony?” he asked, driving.
“Yeah, he left me a note on my desk. I have to follow through, it’s a boss thing. I guess.”
“You could just beat the answer out of him later,” he offered, laughing as he pulled into the slot reserved for her at the ME building.
“That may not be a bad idea, but I was going to try pizza and beer first. I like to save beatings as a last resort,” she said, hopping out and catching her keys as he tossed them over the hood. Before she could turn, a figure leapt out from behind the tree, almost colliding with her.
Elizabeth caught the motion from the corner of her eye and she pulled her gun. “Are you insane?” she hissed, recognizing him and relaxing as she replaced her firearm.
Immediately, Blackhawk was at her side and the look on his face wasn’t a pleasant one.
“What do you want, Forbes?” she relaxed marginally.
“I want an interview with you, regarding the serial killer living among us,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Not happening in this lifetime.” Elizabeth moved to walk past him, and he grabbed her bandaged arm, causing her to suck in a sharp breath.
This time Blackhawk moved first. He had his body between them, and had maneuvered the man away from the sheriff. When he had Forbes pressed against the tree, he finally spoke, “Let me make myself perfectly clear,” he spoke, menacingly. “The next time I see your hands anywhere near her or on her body, I will make sure you temporarily lose use of them.”
Forbes looked up at him, fear in his eyes. “I just want an interview with her.”
“Touch her again, and you and I will be conducting an interview of our own. Before you think about telling me you’ll call my boss and report me, let me warn you in advance. I will have you dragged back to Quantico on some bunk charges, tying you up there until this is all over. Am I clear?” he said softly, but his voice held so much threat, the man looked like he believed him.
“Clear.”
Blackhawk steered her away from him, his arm protectively around her shoulders until they were inside. “Are you okay?” he asked, rolling up her sleeve to inspect the wound.
“I’m good,” she said, recognizing the violence she saw in his eyes. She touched his cheek, with her free hand. “Ethan, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just don’t like him popping out behind trees and manhandling you.” Ethan saw the tint of blood seeping through the bandage. “We need to have Doc look at this,” he said, leading her to the morgue.
“Ethan, I’m okay, really,” she followed him into the elevator. When the doors closed she gasped, as he spun her around to face him.
He didn’t know what he was going to say, instead he just kissed her. All the emotion came pouring out of his body, from his soul into hers. He had wanted to be calm, patient, and rational, but that man putting his hands on her, causing her pain, drove him over the line. As he broke the kiss, fear covered him. He hoped he didn’t just scare her away from him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, dropping his forehead to hers, afraid to open his eyes. “I don’t know what came over me. That was personal Ethan, not professional Ethan.” He tried to find a rational excuse.
When he finally opened his eyes, she was smiling up at him. “I don’t know if I should be hurt, or mad that you just apologized for kissing me,” she paused, caressing his cheek. There was no anger in her eyes, just sparkling, icy blue gentleness. “Both Ethans are more than welcome to do it again.” Elizabeth saw him struggling with the inner battle of finding a middle ground, and she understood and appreciated that he was trying
.
The tension on his face lightened, and a small smile curved up the corners of his lips. Maybe with her he could be the real him, with no recrimination. It felt good.
She leaned into him as she pushed the basement button, and then did something for both of them; she linked her fingers with his and held his hand as they rode in silence down to the morgue. When the door opened, she kept the connection even when he tried to release her hand. The looks from the lab techs and the raised brow of Doctor Trudeaux were also ignored. Elizabeth knew he needed it, and she would break a few rules to help his heart.
Blackhawk observed that she didn’t even take any notice to the stares, and his heart skipped a beat.
“Hey Doc, I hear you have some information from the Feds,” she said, hopping up on the empty exam table, her legs swinging off the side.
“I do,” he pulled out the reports, “I was waiting for you.”
“Before you do, Doc,” Blackhawk motioned towards her. “Please look at her arm. Elizabeth has a cut and it’s bleeding.”
Elizabeth gave him a scowl. She mouthed the word ‘traitor’ and gave a look promising payback.
Blackhawk ignored her.
Doc cut the bandage from her arm, and inspecting the cut.
“It needs about six stitches and to be cleaned,” he said, poking at it.
“Hey, that hurts,” she hissed, flinching and trying to pull her arm away.
“Want me to stitch it up?” he pulled a needle from his drawer and began to unwrap it. “I have everything I need here, but the anesthetic medicine.”
Blackhawk interjected, “Maybe I should take her to the ER.” He didn’t know if he wanted to see her take six stitches without it being numbed up.
She shook her head. “We don’t have that kind of time, so, just stitch me up; I have things I have to do yet today. I can’t be playing in the ER for three hours.”
“Lyzee, it’s going to hurt.” Ethan caressed her cheek. Now he was worried. Before he could change her mind, Doc pulled her over to the sink and held her arm there, as he cleaned the wound aggressively.
The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1)) Page 18