Consumed by Wrath: An FBI/Romance Thriller (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 8)

Home > Other > Consumed by Wrath: An FBI/Romance Thriller (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 8) > Page 42
Consumed by Wrath: An FBI/Romance Thriller (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 8) Page 42

by Kelley, Morgan


  “Well shit, I think we just figured out where the killer has been dumping the heads of the victims,” he said.

  Tony Magnus appeared beside them. “I can tell that’s Duke Williams. His flesh is remarkably preserved.”

  Elizabeth released her hold on Callen, as soon as the wave of nausea had passed. As she stared at the head, she was just grateful that his eyes were closed.

  “I’ll take that,” Chris Leonard said, taking the bag from their boss’s hands to examine it through the plastic. “Yeah, I concur.”

  Elizabeth scanned the area. “Everyone get ready to retrieve. It looks like I won’t be the only one going for a little swim, but stay the hell away from the damn sinkhole!”

  This time, no one bitched or moaned. They simply got ready for retrieval. It was likely going to be one that no one would forget.

  Harper Stanton shrieked a very un-FBI-like squeal. “Look at the water!”

  They all focused on the shoreline. The clearest parts of water by shore were now tinged red.

  A blood red hue.

  “We have more than heads here,” stated Blackhawk.

  Elizabeth looked over at Tyrell. “Get your divers here ASAP. We’ve found something that can’t stay down there any longer.”

  “This gives me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, Lyzee,” Tyrell said, pulling out his phone and doing what she asked of him.

  She patted him on his back. “If it didn't, Ty, I would be worried,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s going to be ugly, isn’t it?”

  She laughed sardonically. “If you had plans for the Spring Fling with your wife and kids, you may need to cancel them.”

  It said it all.

  They were going to be working on a bunch of meat puzzles.

  Who knew what else they were going to be dredging up.

  Two hours later

  They laid out tarps on the ground and began reconstructing the victims. Doctor Magnus sat there inspecting the pile of remains that were being collected from the river. Some had flesh and some had been stripped clean.

  Chris Leonard sat beside him, gathering samples from the victims to be tested. Normally, he would do it in the morgue, but the water and time it was taking to put the bones in order was making him nervous. The samples were cold from the water, and that would slow down their decomposition.

  Elizabeth had stayed as far away from the remains as possible, and there was a good reason. The tech chatter had alerted her earlier, and she didn't want to look into the face of the man she loved growing up as a child. Elizabeth knew there ultimately was no choice, but until the last possible moment, she was avoiding it.

  Yes, it was cowardly.

  It was so unlike her.

  Yet, she couldn’t help it.

  Once she saw his face, Elizabeth didn't know how she was going to react. Just staring at Duke William’s face was horrifying enough. There was nothing more disturbing than holding a severed head and staring into what once was someone’s face.

  It was damn creepy.

  Severed skulls ranked up there with her big ick. While dead eyes could make her bolt, like Jefferson Harris’s had, this wasn’t that far behind either. Where Hollywood had made it seem scary enough, it was about a million times worse. She wasn’t sure where the soul resided in a human, but the head was the part that kept everyone alive.

  Her stomach rolled.

  There were days where she questioned why she was in the FBI, and this was definitely one of them.

  Wandering over to Chris, she decided to bite the bullet.

  “Okay, Doc, tell me what we have.”

  “The heads show definite signs that they were frozen. I won’t open them here because I don’t want to lose any possible trace evidence. When I get them back to the morgue, we’ll get them ready for autopsy.”

  “Okay, so they were ice cubes. Why did they float to the surface?”

  He pointed at the one empty plastic bag. “I’m guessing the killer put them in the water when they were frozen solid. As they defrosted, the gasses then released, filling up the bag and creating buoyancy. I don’t know if they were contained in anything underwater or if they just began floating up.”

  She thought about it. “Our killer isn’t a pro. If he was, then the heads would have just been tossed in without the bags. The fish would have had some snacks, and all we would have found were skulls.”

  “I agree.”

  Well, maybe something good would come out of this, and they would get some evidence.

  She moved out of the way as Tony placed a pelvis that had a considerable amount of flesh remaining, on a tarp.

  “Where’s the head for this one?” she asked.

  “This is a female. We don’t have her head.”

  She thought back to her list of missing women. “So this is Marjorie Willard?”

  Tony hated to give her the bad news, but someone had to do it. “Unfortunately, Lyzee, we found her head in the river.” He got down beside the tarp. “Look at her pelvis.”

  She did what he asked. “Okay, and?”

  “Marjorie Willard’s missing person report said that her husband was at home with their baby, correct?”

  “Yes, that’s what he told us.”

  “This pelvic bone is heart shaped, like that of a woman, but this victim never gave birth. So, either Marjorie Willard wasn’t really a mother, or…”

  “We have another woman, but this one doesn’t have a head,” she finished for him.

  Well shit!

  “Tyrell!” she shouted, getting the sheriff’s attention.

  He hustled over to her and stared down at the body parts lying on the tarp. “What can I do for you?”

  “Did anyone call in any other missing person reports?” she asked, hoping that there was just an oversight on the department from being grossly understaffed.

  “No, not as of this morning. I stopped into the office to make sure Martha had it under control. It’s her day off, but she came in to help out.”

  Yeah, well this just sucked.

  “We have an unknown victim.” She motioned at the tarps. “Over there is Duke Williams, Herman Peterson, Jefferson Harris, Marjorie Willard, and I’m assuming under that sheet is Doctor Trudeaux,” she stated, grateful that her team was trying to not hurt her heart. She loved each one of them for their compassion. It’s what made them one of the best forensic teams around.

  “It is,” stated Chris.

  “We have a woman without a head. In fact, she really only has a pelvis at this point.”

  Tyrell thought about it. “Okay, how about I head back to the office and see if we have any calls? I’ll see what I can dig up and get you anything as fast as I can.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Hell, I’ll shine shoes to get away from all this. I don’t know how the hell you do it, Lyzee. You had a cushy sheriff job that didn't entail all this death. I’m wondering why you ever left.”

  Yeah, there were days where she sat around wondering too, and then she saw her wedding ring and remembered.

  She left for love.

  “Let’s keep victim six under wraps until we get her back to the morgue. I don’t want to start working up the town,” she said.

  Tyrell nodded. “That works for me. I’ll call you if I find anything out.”

  With that, he hightailed it out of there.

  Chris stood beside her. “Do you want to see him?” he asked softly, when they were alone.

  He didn't have to say his name. Elizabeth was well aware who he was referring to. “I do, but I don’t know if I can,” she said honestly. Since it was only her and Chris, she knew better than to assume that she could pull off tough at that moment.

  Here was a friend, and another one was under the sheet.

  Or part of him anyway.

  “If you can’t do it, I understand, Lyzee.”

  She swallowed. “Okay, I’m going to do it, because this is my damn job, and I need to face down the vict
ims.”

  He knew she had balls of steel and would want to do it. Elizabeth Blackhawk didn't run from much, and she wouldn’t escape from duty.

  “Okay, let’s do it.”

  He walked with her over to the sheet and knelt. “His is the only bag that I opened. I didn't want you to have to look at him like that.”

  “Before you do it, I need to know, Chris. Did he suffer?”

  There was no way he could know, since they only had his head, but he would do anything for his friend, even lie. “He didn't. He was probably already dead before he was decapitated.”

  “Thank you for that lie.” She was beyond grateful. Kneeling down beside him, she gave him the signal.

  When he pulled back the sheet, it was as if all the air was sucked from her lungs. She struggled to breathe, as she looked down into the face of a man she cherished as a child, and lost track of as an adult.

  That guilt would follow her wherever she went. How she wished, when she called to have him open their house up, she had taken the time to tell him that he was loved.

  One last time.

  His head sat there on the tarp, and her ME had tried to give it as much dignity as possible. He rested it on a foam block, so it wouldn’t roll around.

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” she said, her voice filling with emotion.

  Immediately, Chris took her hand in his and offered her some warmth. Death wasn’t easy for the living, and sometimes it was even hard for those who were calloused by watching and wading through it every day.

  “I’m going to find the bastard who took your life. I’m going to put him behind bars and make his life a living hell. I promise,” she said, staring at the man’s face. His gray skin was clammy looking, and the blue hue only made it look like a movie prop. “I hope you didn't suffer.”

  Chris reached for the sheet to cover him up, and she stopped him. “I’ll do it.”

  “I hope you’re with Charlie, right now, and the two of you are smoking your cigars and at peace. I got him justice, and I’ll find it for you too.” Covering his head and the few bones that they retrieved, she stood. “Thank you, Chris.”

  With that, she walked away. Now, she needed a few minutes alone. Pulling the keys from her pocket, she headed to the Navigator.

  Was it wrong to leave the scene?

  Yes, but she knew Ethan and Callen had it under control without her. For now, she needed to get her bearings and think it all out. She hoped that they would forgive her later for being a coward.

  She also prayed that she could cut herself the same break.

  Pulling away, she allowed the emotion to overwhelm her. Elizabeth Blackhawk allowed herself to mourn.

  Only then could she move on and do what she did best.

  Chase death to hell and back.

  * * *

  It didn't take long for the men in her life to notice that she was no longer on the scene. At first, there was this overwhelming sense of panic that filled them. They were much like crazed wolves, sniffing the air for their mate.

  The frantic search for her drew Doctor Leonard’s attention. “Are you both okay?” he asked, dropping his voice to barely above a whisper.

  “Did you see where Elizabeth went?” Ethan asked, his voice filled with a little worry.

  “She viewed Doctor Trudeaux, and I think she just needed a few minutes to clear her head and find a little peace.”

  They both understood what that meant. Elizabeth was fairly tough, unless someone took a shot at her family or loved ones. Then, she could crumble under the weight of the grief.

  “She headed towards the trees and I’m assuming she was leaving the scene.”

  It made Blackhawk really nervous that she was wandering around alone, but as of yet, there was no reason to really worry. The serial killer wasn’t tracking any of them.

  Not that he was aware of.

  In his head, he thought about all that they knew about the assignment, and a little calm befell him. Yeah, he could take a breath.

  Callen and Ethan moved away from everyone working near the river, so they could talk. Once far enough away, the men tried to come up with a plan.

  “She shouldn’t be alone,” Callen said, softly. “Go find her. I’ll take care of the scene for you.”

  Ethan loved his brother, and the strong man he was growing into. It was obvious to him, that when he was weak, he could lean on Callen for strength. The man was proving what Elizabeth and Ethan knew deep in their hearts.

  Callen Whitefox was coming into his own as their partner in the field, and every day in life.

  “No, you go, Cal. I’m okay. What she needs now is someone to smooth it all over and give her peace. You give her that, and have the last four months. Go take care of our wife and heal her.”

  It wasn’t what he had expected at all. Before the abduction, whenever Elizabeth hurt, Ethan was always front and center.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ve earned it,” he replied, honestly. “You’ve worked long hours, toiled over the bills and finances, and even grocery shopped at three in the morning.” When his brother looked surprised, he continued, “I saw it all, and I’m grateful. This one is yours.”

  Whitefox hugged his brother. “I’ll text you when I find her,” he answered, heading off towards the vehicles.

  “She’s either with her whiteboard or at home.”

  Callen jogged off down the hill into the trees. When he found her, he would offer her anything he could to heal her heart. After all, Elizabeth had done it for them so many times before.

  Blackhawk watched his brother head out, and he turned to face his team. “Okay, let’s get this scene wrapped up. I want it swept, and I want every single fragment of bone found,” he ordered,

  They all saluted, and he started to laugh. He was beginning to think that they didn't care which Blackhawk they busted. Apparently, he and Elizabeth were interchangeable.

  And Ethan was more than okay with that.

  It didn't take him long to locate the big, black, rented Navigator. At first, he planned on heading into the town, but then he thought about the woman he loved.

  When Elizabeth was wounded, she didn't like to be seen by anyone being weak. Instead, she would run and hide to lick her wounds.

  This wasn’t going to be any different.

  Pulling into the driveway, he parked the Denali and hopped out. Crossing the gravel, he bolted up the stairs and unlocked the front door. If she was hiding behind an alarm and deadbolt, he already knew what was coming.

  Inside, he found that she had changed out of her wet, river soaked clothes, and was now wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Sitting on the couch, her chin was resting on her knees as her arms wrapped protectively around her legs. It reminded him of a position that a small child might sit in, to offer them self some protection.

  It broke his heart.

  “Angel?” he said, softly.

  At his voice, she stared up at him.

  When her icy blue eyes focused on him, Callen could see the pain that was building behind them. Elizabeth was suffering in silence, and it broke his heart.

  In that moment, there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do to heal her and make the pain go away.

  “Just tell me what I can do for you, sweetheart,” he said, moving to stand beside her. Gently, he ran the palm of his hand over her short hair. When he touched her, Elizabeth placed her hand on his and stared up into his eyes.

  “Please hold me.”

  It was all that she needed to say. Quickly, he picked her up in his arms and cradled her lovingly against his torso as he took her place on the couch.

  Immediately, Elizabeth curled into him, like she had many times before over the last few months. This wasn’t the first time that he had offered her comfort while she was hurting. Only this time, it was grief over someone who never had any chance of coming back, that was tearing her apart.

  “I’m here for you, angel.”

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his nec
k and clung to him. There were only two people on the face of this earth who she truly trusted to see her stripped emotionally bare and bleeding.

  One was Ethan.

  The other was Callen.

  They knew her inside and out and held all the scary things back from her as best they could. When something got through, both men helped her stay afloat in the pain.

  “I feel horrible,” she admitted, as she breathed in the calming scent of his cologne. It was woodsy and made her feel safe. “I got wrapped up in life, and the people here fell away. The ones who mattered, I let them fall.”

  Callen caressed her back with his hand, as he left delicate little kisses along her cheek and curl of her ear. “You didn’t forget them, Lyzee. You simply had to focus on the other parts of your life. You’re carrying a lot. You’re a mother, a wife, and you’re running FBI West. It’s okay to slip now and then. There’s no one going to blame you and think that this was your fault. Doctor Trudeaux didn't die believing that you were to blame.”

  “I feel like I am responsible. I hate knowing that he died not knowing that I loved him. My last call to him was fast and for him to just open up our home. I never took the time to talk to him, or ask him what was up. I was in such a damn hurry that I didn't even care to ask.”

  He ran his hand up her bare leg. “He was absolutely thinking about you as he died.”

  She stared into his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Since you called him, he knew that you were coming here, right?” he asked, trying to help her navigate through the grief.

  “Yes.”

  “Then as he was dying, I’m sure that he was thinking about you. Doctor Trudeaux knew how ferocious you were when a challenge landed in your lap. There was no doubt that he knew you would get him justice, because that’s what you do. You fight valiantly for the people who no longer have a voice. Doctor Trudeaux knew that the little girl, who he and Charlie had raised, was a warrior. You will beat this killer, you will return the victims to their families, and you will win, because your heart is dedicated to the dead.”

 

‹ Prev