Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12)

by Morgan Kelley

  He spoke from experience, and anyone in the room who worked that case with Elizabeth knew how hard it had been. Ethan was still scarred over it.

  Again, she had to ask, “And we have nothing on these two samples? Really?”

  Chris felt for her. “Merry ran it, I ran it, and Tony did too. There’s nothing in CODIS for their samples, or NDIS. I’m sorry. Our killers are newbies.”

  “Yeah, and damn good ones right out of the gate.”

  Well, they couldn’t always get lucky.

  “Sometimes, those who appear to be good and stay out of trouble can go bad too. We have it now, and it’s just a matter of time before we catch them,” Chris reassured.

  She was aware.

  Turning, she faced down her agents. “Since you two look all smiley and happy, I’m sure you have something for me.”

  That was an understatement.

  Both Agents Seaton and Madden were beaming.

  Yeah, they may love their jobs, but no one was that happy when it came to a murder investigation.

  They looked downright giddy.

  Elizabeth didn't doubt that something was up.

  She could feel it.

  The way Ethan was watching them too, he was thinking the same thing.

  “We did dig up some dirt on your suspects,” Johanna offered. “Christian Bourdain was married six times. None of them ended well. The station manager has a stack of death threats as tall as a toddler. So, it’s safe to say that the man wasn’t up for any popularity contests.”

  Great.

  That made their jobs harder.

  “And?” she replied, urging them on.

  Brody picked up where Johanna left off. “He liked the ladies, and I’m not talking about his wives. Christian was a douchebag who liked cocaine and hookers.”

  “Well, a fine upstanding human being,” she added sarcastically. “It does my heart good when we work cases like this. In fact, I just asked my sexy Santas for a shitty case with a serial fornicator for my present.”

  Callen and Ethan grinned.

  “Ask and you shall receive,” Blackhawk stated.

  “What about the fiancée?” Elizabeth asked.

  Johanna continued, “And I quote, ‘She’s a bitch times three’,” she stated. “It seems that Ann Kong wasn’t really liked. As we started asking questions, none of the answers were nice.”

  “If you google her, there are some interesting stories in the tabloids,” Brody stated.

  Terrific.

  The rag papers were part of their investigation tools. Where had they gone so wrong?

  “As soon as we get an ID on those second victims, I want you two all over this like white on rice. I’m going to need details, and fast. You’re going to be pulling an all-nighter, and at this rate—an all-dayer.”

  Brody tried to fake being bummed by that, but it looked like Elizabeth, Ethan, and Callen weren’t buying it. They were staring at him.

  “I’m sure you can handle the situation, right, Agents?”

  “Oh, I have everything under control.”

  Johanna kicked him under the table.

  Elizabeth didn't miss it.

  She smiled.

  Cupid hadn’t been wrong.

  “Let’s get our game plan in place, and then start our day,” Elizabeth stated. “We’re all going to be damn busy on this one. If our killers are taking people in twos, that doubles our amount of investigating. We can’t let this get too far ahead of us, or it will be a mess. Got it?”

  They all nodded.

  “I read yesterday’s reports on the suspects, so Ethan, Callen, and I are going to head to Jacob Heller’s book store to interview him. He had a beef with Christian, so that’s our primary suspect right now.”

  They waited for her to give out the rest of the assignments.

  “Broderick, I want you and Johanna to head out to interview Rena Woods. Dig around in the gossip and find out what made Ann Kong tick.”

  They grabbed their gear and headed out. When the boss lady said move, you didn't drag ass.

  When they were gone, she pointed at the tech team. “Keep doing what you do best. I’m going to assume that since the skulls are naked, the bones aren’t far behind.”

  Tony grinned. “They’re in the cooker now.”

  “Great. That’s my sign to get the hell out of here. I don’t want to smell that. We’re also going to hit up Alessandra Savage. She was working for the dead man, so we’ll cover our bases.”

  As they grabbed their things, getting ready to head out, Dakota cleared his throat, reminding them that they were still standing there.

  “If it’s okay with you, we’ll tag along.”

  She started laughing.

  “Yeah, that’s not happening, my friend. You are definitely not getting down and dirty in this investigation.”

  “But you said...”

  “I said you could help, and interviews are reserved for the FBI. You’re a wild card, and if or when this goes to court, I don’t want to get caught with my pants down. We do this the good old official way.”

  The Marshals weren’t happy.

  That was crystal clear.

  “Then what are we supposed to do? Take a nap on one of the tables and wait until you get something?”

  “I would pick a different room if I were you. I’ve seen the ME get forgetful and do a Y-incision randomly.”

  Chris grinned, holding up his scalpel.

  “Your husband sucker punched me and the crime scene was our hazing. While I know the FBI thinks it’s for the best, we can keep up and be an asset.”

  Elizabeth glanced over at her husband. “Well, it’s your choice. You’re the boss.”

  Dakota’s hopes sank.

  Blackhawk grinned. “Yeah, I bet you didn't see that one coming, Mr. Marshal.”

  “Anything? We can run shit if that’s what it takes. Use us, so we can get justice for the twenty eight victims.”

  He contemplated it.

  “We don’t have time to ride the sheriff,” Elizabeth offered. “We can have our buddies all over him.”

  Ethan agreed, throwing the man a bone. “There you go.”

  Elizabeth was glad he’d let them in. More investigators just made it easier.

  These killers were dropping victims like flies.

  “Head to his office, interview the deputies, and see what you can find out. If Christian was a douchebag, like my agents say, you might get some dirt. At this point, being a small town, anything might help. We can’t skip any of the steps. It’ll bite us in the ass.”

  He was glad to get in and help.

  Offering the olive branch, Dakota held out his hand to Ethan. “Thank you.”

  Then he waited.

  Ethan knew all eyes were on him. He’d rather eat a rattlesnake, but he had to be diplomatic. He had to be the bigger man.

  He shook it.

  “You’re welcome. If you need us, Marshal Rakin, don’t hesitate to call.”

  He could do that.

  “Can I get your number?”

  Elizabeth went to reach for her business card behind her ID when Callen started laughing.

  “Yeah, that’s not happening. Hell hasn’t quite frozen over for that to occur.”

  Ethan pulled his own card out and handed it to the man. He was thinking the same thing. There was no way their wife was giving the Marshal direct access.

  That was a damn bad idea for all parties involved.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the two men. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  It was crystal clear they were cutting that off at the pass. While it irritated her, she didn't say anything else.

  Ethan had a rough night.

  She’d cut the men in her life a break.

  On their way out the door, both men protectively flanked her.

  “You two better be careful. If you cross that line, I may get bitchy and hurt you.”

  Neither man replied.

  They didn't
give a shit. Their woman was their woman, and that’s what mattered.

  Their silence must have spoken volumes.

  “What am I going to do with you two?” she asked, as they hovered over her.

  Ethan and Callen didn't care, as long as their wife stayed safe, she could be pissed off…

  An angry Elizabeth was still an alive one.

  Chapter Eight

  Books Aplenty

  Thursday Mid-Morning

  When they arrived at the corner book shop, it was relatively busy. Only, it wasn’t the books that people were interested in, but the computers housed next door in the side by side storefront.

  It appeared that Jacob Heller had found a way to blend the old with the new. There was no doubt it was what was keeping his business alive.

  Inside, they found the man behind the counter. The second he saw them coming, it was clear he knew who they were. There was that look of recognition on his face.

  It wasn’t as if she was shocked. Anyone who owned a television could pick her out of a crowd—unfortunately.

  “Mr. Heller?” Elizabeth asked, holding out her badge for him to get a good look.

  Immediately, Callen broke off to look around. It was going to be divide and conquer.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re…” She didn't get to finish.

  “I know who you are. You’re Elizabeth Blackhawk, and you’re Ethan Blackhawk. You’re Feds. I watch the news,” he said, pointing to the flat screen over the bookshelves. It was set to BNN, and Elizabeth actually cringed. That one news station drove her bat shit insane. They just loved to harass the shit out of their family.

  “Great. Then we can cut to the chase. Why did you kill Christian Bourdain?”

  The coffee cup in his hand actually shook.

  “What? I didn't even know he was dead, let alone kill anyone! I swear! Yes, he was an asshole, and we fought, but I’d never hurt him. I’m a lover of books, not murder.”

  She stared at him. “Why did you hate him? You see, we’ve gotten the official story, and now we want to know your side of it. Frankly, it’s not looking too good for you. The sheriff says you had a big issue with him, and it came to blows. If that’s accurate, it’s going to put you at the top of the suspect list unless you can explain yourself.”

  He looked panicked. “I didn't hurt him. Yes, I flipped out, but that’s normal. He was burning books and calling them propaganda! I love books, and they should be respected. I had to do something. It’s a free country, and I had a right to get angry.”

  “You’re absolutely correct. You do have a right to get pissed off, and we have the duty to investigate his murder. Now, are you sure you didn't kill him?”

  He shook his head. “YES! I’m not killing material! I can’t even read scary books. I like the classics.”

  Elizabeth looked around. On the walls behind him were some old journals. A few were labeled medical. That gave her more ammunition against him.

  “That’s funny, especially since our victim was cut apart, and you have countless medical journals behind you. Are you yanking my chain?” she asked. “Right now, I’m thinking you might have had a hand in this.”

  He began babbling and stammering. “NO!”

  Pulling out her tablet, she scrolled to the one specific picture she had in mind. Chris had just sent it to her, and it was of the severed heads and the limbs all lying on a silver exam table.

  It was morbid.

  Gross.

  And scary.

  To help them out, she needed to see how he’d react to the picture. Elizabeth needed to rattle some cages, and unfortunately for him, he was up to bat.

  “Here. Take a look at this. Can you identify him?”

  She flipped the tablet around.

  It only took a second.

  His reaction was pretty much spot on. Jacob Heller went ash gray and began gagging.

  Ethan had seen his wife use this interview tactic before, so he was ready. Quickly, he grabbed the wastepaper can and held it out. The man hugged it before he began puking.

  “Well, get it all out, sir. We’ll finish this when you’re done.”

  Honestly, breaking people in an interview was her favorite part.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Callen loved books.

  They were his obsession in life. If he could own a book store, he’d probably never even open it. He’d just sit in the back and read all day long. They were his one luxury in life. There was nothing like the smell of a book or the feel of it in your hands.

  Okay, that wasn’t true. Elizabeth smelled better, and if he could sit on a couch, her in his lap, as they both read books…

  That was as good as it could ever get.

  Now that he had kids and a wife, he didn't have time to get lost in fantasyland. It was all about reality for him.

  Daydreaming had been placed on the back burner.

  One day, he hoped to fill his time with it again. When they retired from the FBI, he was going to make sure that copious amounts of books were on his bucket list.

  Well, that and sex.

  That was his dream.

  As he rounded a stack of books, there stood a petite woman studying the spines of all the novels. She was also placing books on a shelf from a box.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Do you work here?”

  She nodded. “I’m Tiny.”

  He didn't argue that. The woman was the size of a small teenager. “Yes, I guess you are.”

  The employee giggled. “I get that a lot—just like I’m sure you get called a giant,” she offered, staring up at him. “Are there any books I can help you find? Is there something specific you’re searching for?”

  Callen could recognize a pickup line anywhere. God knew he used to hand them out like Tic Tacs to anything with breasts.

  “I’m actually here to ask some questions about this business and the owner.”

  “I’m available.”

  Callen didn't even bat an eyelash. “That wasn’t the question I was going to ask.”

  “Are you sure?” she teased, flipping her blonde hair back.

  “Yeah, I am. Maybe we can focus on official business?”

  “Sexy men are my business.”

  Callen let it go. She was harmless.

  “That’s great.” He pulled his badge and showed her, hoping it would cut back on some of the innuendos. It didn't offend him, but his pregnant wife just might lose it. When she was awash in hormones, you never knew which way she’d go.

  Why risk it?

  All that bloodshed would ruin the books.

  “I’m with the FBI, and I was wondering if you’ve ever seen Christian Bourdain or his fiancée, Ann Kong, in here?”

  She let her gaze run up and down his body. Apparently, from the look on her face, she was an aficionado of Native men wearing cowboy boots and jeans.

  When her eyes met his, and he had her focus, Callen did the humane thing. He held up his left hand, letting her see the ring on his finger.

  “Well, shit! You’re married.”

  Now he laughed. “I’m happily married, so let me guarantee that anything you’re thinking won’t fly.”

  It was like the switch was flipped. She stopped leering and focused on his questions.

  “I didn't see him in here, but Ann Kong liked to stop in and buy fashion magazines all the time. She’d come in, throw money down and leave. She wasn’t really sociable. Frankly, she bordered on bitch.”

  “They’re both dead.”

  She gasped, her eyes going big. “You’re shitting me, right?”

  “No, Tiny, I’m not. When did you see her last come in here, and did your boss pay any attention to her?”

  “It had to be about two weeks ago. She usually comes in the first week of the month to get the latest magazines.”

  “And your boss? We already know he had an altercation with them, but how did he really feel?”

  She shook her head. “He was just pi
ssed about the books being burned. That’s sacrilege to people like us.”

  On that, he happened to agree.

  “Thank you for your time, Tiny.”

  She checked out his ass as he walked away. She even whistled.

  Callen shook his head in amusement. Now he knew how his wife felt when they treated her like some sexy piece of ass. Honestly, he didn't get why women didn't like it.

  He didn't really mind.

  “If you need to question me again, just come back in and find me. I’ll make myself available.”

  Callen didn't even reply.

  He was too busy focusing on something appealing in the store.

  His wife.

  When he was done tossing his cookies, they were still waiting to ask the tough questions. The Christmas music, which was playing some cheery tune, had drowned out some of the heaving.

  “Done?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “When did you last see him?”

  The man thought about it. “It wasn’t that long ago. He was petitioning the city council to buy the building right next door. He wanted to open his own private radio station there.”

  “That had to piss you off,” she admitted. “Here, the man who burns books wanted to be your neighbor.”

  “Oh, yeah. It did. He was only doing it to get a rise out of me. That’s how Christian liked to play. If he could piss you off, and you reacted, he’d use it to his advantage. It was his one weapon against everyone. He liked to play right wing fruitcake.”

  “You realize you’re making yourself look worse, right?”

  “Hey! You want the truth, there it is. I won’t miss him, but I didn't kill him. He was a class A douchebag, and honestly, no one liked him. You have your work cut out for you.”

  She was well aware.

  To make it harder, they couldn’t ask for an alibi, only because the bodies had been compromised, and they didn't have an exact time. Anything he gave them wouldn’t help or hurt him.

  “We’ll probably be back, Mr. Heller. Stick around town and stay out of trouble,” she stated.

  “Where am I going to go? It’s Christmas, and I have a business to run.”

  Elizabeth didn't answer. Instead, she motioned toward Callen, and they headed out. On their way out the door, Elizabeth saw the sprite of a woman checking out Callen’s jean-clad ass.