That would take finesse and calmer heads prevailing. Yeah, so Elizabeth wasn’t going to be making the calls. She was more likely to plow through like gangbusters.
When he hung up the phone, she smiled at him. “Cal, darlin’, how’s it going?”
He shrugged. “Well, I just left a message for Chief Runningwolf. He’s out dealing with something that popped up, so when he calls me back, I’ll ask him to meet with us.”
“Can I come?” she asked.
Both men laughed at the absurdity of that question. They had been down this road before, and it never ended well. The only older Native man who ever found her endearing, the first time he had met her, had been Timothy Blackhawk.
And that they were writing off as a fluke or black magick on her behalf.
“No? Why not?” Elizabeth loved this part of her life. She thoroughly loved keeping them guessing. When they were off their guard, it entertained her.
“I think you know why, Lyzee,” stated Ethan, still laughing. This was just one reason he never wanted to be liaison to the Native communities. He was well aware of the chaos his wife could stir up. In his daily job, he put out plenty of fires. HR and Gabe Rothschild were number one and two on his speed dial, and for a reason. That should be indication enough of his office life.
He didn't need this one too.
Besides, Callen was good at it.
On their team, they each had their niche, and this one was his. There was pride swelling in his heart, that he could share this part of his life with the other half of him. Not many people could say they were able to work with their spouses, but he could.
Ethan Blackhawk was a very lucky man in many ways lately. This was just the icing on the cake.
“Why are you grinning like a loon?” she asked, staring over at him suspiciously.
“I’m picturing how messy you’re going to make intertribal relations, and I’m thankful that Callen has to wade through this mess, and not me.”
Callen crossed his arms in protest. “Really? Well, how’s this for a newsflash, bro. I’m going to let her do whatever she wants, and you’re going to deal with the backlash. Technically, I can pass the buck on this one to a higher power. You outrank me in this war, and I’m pointing the Natives at you.”
Ethan stared at him in the mirror. “Seriously? After all I’ve been through, you’d let them do that to me?” He played the wounded card.
Elizabeth found that funny. “And I quote ‘I don’t want anyone babying me. It is making it hard for me to get better’,” she stated.
“That was more like paraphrasing,” he corrected.
“Toe-ma-toe versus toe-may-toe, ace. Suck it up and let me run amuck.”
As the GPS chirped off the last part of the directions, he ignored her. They both knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to allow that to happen. Ethan had seen his wife in action, and that was just a bad idea all around.
“Oh look. We’re here,” she said, and then she saw it. “What the fuck is he doing?” she stated, hopping down out of the Navigator before it even came to a stop.
Charging across the parking lot, she came face to face with Sheriff Tony Morell, and he was conducting an interview.
An interview the FBI was supposed to be handling.
Oh, he was certifiable if he thought this was going to fly, and that there wasn’t going to be some big time retribution.
“Oh look, Mr. Willard. It’s the FBI. They’re helping me with this case, so you have nothing to worry about. My office is here for you, and the Feds are backing me up.”
Elizabeth gave him a look, and she was pretty damn sure the one he returned was smug and meant to push every one of her last buttons.
Mission accomplished!
When she got him alone, there was a good chance his ears would be bleeding from what she had to say to him.
“Oh hello, Sheriff. I wasn’t aware that this was going to be an interview that you handled. I thought that this morning at our meeting, I was quite clear that we had this one.”
He smiled his good ol’ boy smile, and poured on the charm as the two men came up to them. “Oh, you FBI directors have so much on your plate, I wanted to personally handle Mr. Willard’s wife. I don’t like anything to fall through the cracks. You know how I’m a stickler on the rules.”
Blackhawk and Whitefox just shook their heads. The man was baiting a pregnant tiger. This was going to have an ugly outcome.
Elizabeth pushed it aside, since the missing woman’s husband was looking a little frantic.
“How about you tell us about it?” she asked, patting him on the arm. “We’ll listen to you.”
“I just told the sheriff everything. I have to rehash it?”
Again, she handed out one more look, and it wasn’t pleasant.
“I’m sorry, sir, but think of it this way. The more times you go over it, something new might shake loose from your brain and help us.”
Or something might get knocked loose from Tony’s head when this was done. Either way, this was far from being over.
Both directors could feel the tension, and Callen stepped in to calm the situation.
“How about you start at the beginning for us, Mr. Willard?”
The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Marjorie had a meeting last night at the civic center by the high school. She left the house around six and told me not to wait up. Of course I did, because what man doesn’t?” he asked.
Elizabeth knew her men would.
“When she didn't return by midnight, I loaded the baby into the car and headed there. I was pissed off and ready to tell her off. I know that she loves being in the women’s auxiliary, but she has a child, husband, and family. We should come first.”
Elizabeth was big on having a career and everything else in her life, but her children did take priority over most everything, sometimes even the men.
“When I got there,” he paused, his hand going to his mouth in horror as he relived it all. “Her car was there. I knew she would never just leave it, so I opened the door and found her purse.”
Elizabeth patted his arm. “Do you still have it?”
He nodded and went to the passenger side of the vehicle. “I brought it with me, so her stuff would be safe for when she gets back,” he said, softly.
“Can I bag this up for my team to run fingerprints on it, sir?” she asked, being as gentle as possible. The man was obviously distraught. His eyes were red, his face was tear streaked, and his hands shook as he blew his nose.
“Yes. Take it.”
“What happened next?” Ethan pushed, as Callen retrieved the bag and sealed it up.
“I called nine-one-one. I told them what happened, and they sent out a deputy. It was some young girl who didn't have a clue.”
“That would be Deputy Silverman,” Tony added. “She’s new to the force.”
“Yeah, and looks twelve,” he snapped, angrily. “She didn't even take any information. All she kept telling me was that policy was to wait forty eight hours. THEN, she gave me a ticket for my wife’s vehicle sitting there.”
Elizabeth stared at Tony. “Yeah, it’s quite the staff that the sheriff has there. I suggest sensitivity training for everyone.”
Tony’s face went serious and his eyes narrowed.
“When she left, I didn't move the car. I’ve seen enough TV shows to know that someone might have touched it.”
Oddly, the man knew who but the sheriff’s dimwitted deputy didn't.
There was a shocker.
“You did the right thing, Mr. Willard. I’m proud of you. I’m going to have my team head over to the civic center and check it out, okay?”
The man nodded, and then burst into tears. Elizabeth hugged him and soothingly rubbed his back. “Shhhhhhh, it’s okay, sir. We’re going to start working on it immediately.”
He sniffled and released her to blow his nose.
“Would anyone want to hurt, Marjorie?” Ethan asked, still taking
notes, as Callen stepped away to call in the tech team to head out to the car.
“No, she was as sweet as pie. Her momma was on the committee, and so was her grandmother. This was her way of keeping the tradition alive.”
“What was the meeting about?”
He looked at Ethan like he was crazy for even having to ask that question. “It was about the Spring Fling, of course.”
“Of course it was,” he replied. Here was more proof that he didn't miss anything growing up on a reservation. Small towns were a bit crazy, case in point.
“What am I supposed to do?” he wailed. “We have a baby! I don’t know how to take care of a small child. Do you?” he asked, staring at the four of them.
Three of them nodded, since they were well aware of the work involved in parenthood. “You just need to love that little baby now even more, until you get your wife back,” Elizabeth said, reassuringly. If this had anything to do with the other disappearances, she doubted the man was going to be able to hold up under what was coming.
It was bad enough that your wife was gone, but eaten?
Yeah, that was a tough one to swallow.
“Thank you for coming here,” he said, hugging Elizabeth again. “I’m glad someone is on my side. You’re just like your daddy, and he would be proud,” the man added.
“Thank you, sir,” she replied.
He spun and faced the sheriff. “If anything happens to my wife, I’ll never forgive you,” he spat, directing that at Tony.
The smug was gone, and in its place was a completely different look. It was anger that Elizabeth was now the one smiling.
If Tony wanted to play a game, she was willing to serve it up. She had more years doing the job, and saw the twists and turns a mile away.
“I’ll keep you updated, sir,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you at the station, Tony,” she stated, leaving nothing out of her voice on that one.
There was going to be a showdown, and certainly there would be hell to pay. It was a matter of time.
Heading towards the Navigator, none of them looked back. They were all thinking the same thing.
They had a nutjob on their hands.
* * *
At the morgue, Chris was pacing nervously. He wasn’t listening to anything anyone was saying, since he was locked in some nightmare.
A part of him knew that he shouldn’t be upset that someone had pulled a gun on Cyra, but the rest of him was out of control and irate. This was his fiancée, and she needed to be safe.
If anything happened to her, what would he do?
As he angrily walked back and forth, his friend just watched him, unsure if he should interrupt the silent torment he was inflicting on himself.
“Are you going to be okay, Chris?” Tony Magnus asked, taking a chance.
The man shook his head.
It had been a long time since he saw his work buddy get this frazzled. Wait, he never saw him this angry, so that meant this had everything to do with Cyra and their relationship.
“Babe drama?” he asked.
Chris stopped mid pace and exploded in rage. “Someone held her at gun point!”
Tony stared at him incredulously. “Is she okay? Did she get hurt?” he asked.
“No, she didn't.” Then, the anger started back up again, and nearly pushed him over the edge.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be this mad.”
Chris looked over again and stared at the man like he didn't have a freaking clue in the world. “Did you hear what I just said? Someone held her at gunpoint. She could have died, or been wounded. How am I supposed to not be mad?”
“Yeah, I get that, but she wasn’t hurt. You and I both know the cold facts. Most people in that situation have a very different outcome, and it’s never good. Think about all the bodies that we see on a daily basis. Most of them are riddled with bullet holes.”
“Your point, Tony?”
“I’m just thinking about their families, husbands, and fiancé’s. I bet that if someone gave them the opportunity to have their woman escape unscathed, they wouldn’t be storming around like some lunatic on a bender. They would probably be grateful and hugging their loved ones like crazy. I mean after all, we don’t all get a second chance, but today wasn’t her day.”
His friend had a point.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be mad, but glad.”
Now, the anger was seeping away at his words.
The man had a very valid point.
“I’m not in a relationship, but from the outside it looks like you’re over reacting a bit.”
The good thing about friends is that they would point out when you were being an asshole, and then help you work through the anger.
“Thank you, Tony. I appreciate it.”
“Hey, what’s a friend for?
Chris calmed down, and now he needed to find a way to apologize for his outburst. Before he could call Cyra or run over, he was interrupted by Veronica. She was standing there with a report in her hands.
“We got nothing on the rock, Doctor Trudeaux’s car or keys. Prints only matched him and the sheriff.”
Well, that was good news.
She continued, “DNA also came in. The last set of remains was definitely Doctor Trudeaux.”
“Damn it,” muttered Chris.
“Want me to tell Elizabeth?” she asked.
Chris stared at her in irritation. “It’s Director Blackhawk, and I’ll tell her myself.”
The woman rolled her eyes as she handed him the file. Yeah, someone was a tad bit touchy and moody today.
Apparently, it was going around.
~ Chapter Eleven ~
Sheriff’s Station
Late Afternoon
Elizabeth, Ethan, and Callen were just walking into the sheriff’s station, when a phone began ringing. They each reached for theirs, to see who won the call lotto.
Blackhawk grinned and answered it.
As they waited, Callen leaned against one of the trees and stared at her.
“What?” she asked, beginning to get paranoid. “Is there something in my teeth?”
“I was just thinking that I love you more than anything in this entire world. Whenever I look at you, I fall more and more hopelessly in love. The day we met, I was reborn.”
That made her heart melt. “Callen, that was so sweet, and I feel that same about you and Ethan. I’m complete.”
He glanced over at his brother. “I’m proud of him.”
She immediately knew what he was referring to. “I am too. He’s pulling himself up. Already, he’s closer to being back to Director Blackhawk and our Ethan.”
“I was worried when we took this assignment.”
She laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“I’m glad we did it now. Other than you hurting about Doc Trudeaux, I think this is healing us. After all, isn’t this what brought us all together? What better way to heal our relationship than with us doing what brought us together? Ethan found you on a case, and I found you both on one too. Fate is funny.”
How true was that?
Death started them on this ride, and now death in Salem had come at the exact moment it was needed to help them refocus.
Ethan strolled back over. “That was the tech team. They swept the car and got a big fat nada. The only DNA or prints were from Doc and Tony, and his were isolated to the keys. They did confirm what we suspected, the bones were his, Lyzee.”
She didn't expect anything else. The rock was porous, and she knew it was a gamble. If they had gotten a print, she would have been shocked out of her mind. Like she told them earlier, she had seen the fracture and knew.
Taking deep breaths, both men waited for her response.
When she didn't move, they both circled her in an embrace. Sometimes, you just needed to hug it out.
Elizabeth let them offer her comfort. When she was in their arms, she always felt safe and a little better. Maybe it was the simple connection of their bodies, or the
scent of their mingling cologne.
Either way, they made the scary more bearable.
“That’s okay, Cowboy. Onto contingency plan two,” she stated, pulling away. “I’m okay now,” Elizabeth reassured as she headed for the door.
When she got inside, she was going to track down her team and find out what they had dug up on the Harris family. Her gut was telling her something big was going on, and she needed to rattle the tree and see what fell out. For now, she had to let go of mourning Doc, and focus on justice for all.
Strolling into the bullpen, she found her agents hard at work. “Tell me something that I didn't know before I rolled up in here,” she stated, sitting on a desk opposite theirs.
“Well,” Cyra said, looking around to make sure they had privacy. “When I cornered, Martha, she pulled me into the coffee room and told me to hush up. It seems that after being called to the Harris homestead, two days later, the sheriff buried that report.”
That piqued her interest.
It wasn’t odd for cops to bend the rules according to what they saw at the scene, but in this case, if two people were beating on each other, they needed that on record. If not, when something went down, there would be hell to pay.
Oh, like now for instance.
Tony could have filed it as a mutual dispute and no harm done, but at least then it was going to be on record.
“It seems,” Cyra said, just above a whisper. “The following day, Mrs. Harris showed up and requested a meeting with the sheriff. They were behind closed doors for an hour, before she came out.”
Ethan shook his head. “Okay, so they had a meeting. Did Martha put a glass against the door and listen in?”
Her husband had a point. “It’s speculation. We don’t know if Jefferson Harris was on the phone or if Mrs. Harris just needed a shoulder to cry on.”
Cyra grinned. “Martha is as quick as a whip, right?”
Elizabeth had always found her to be. “Yeah, why?” Now, she wasn’t getting why her agents were grinning like they swallowed a cage full of canaries.
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