Johanna ran a reverse search, going with the address in the DMV. When a picture popped, she showed it to Brody.
“There’s our tenant.”
“Deputy Lina Dotson?” Brody asked. “So, he was paying her rent? She isn't related, so that means…”
“It means he had some action on the side, and the fact that he was dropping that much money each month on her, it was a piece of tail he liked to visit a lot.”
He agreed.
A man didn't pay your rent unless you were someone very special to him. A mistress was a powerful thing, and as a politician, he likely didn't want to get caught.
“We should tell the boss lady. She’ll want to know all of this.”
She agreed.
Picking up the phone, Johanna Madden made the call.
The plot was getting thicker.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Friday Morning
Inside the mayor’s home, they had one freaked out woman. While they didn't come right out and tell Veronica that her husband’s head was in the box, she put two and two together all on her own.
Then after her agents called, Elizabeth’s suspicions were indeed valid. Despite what the sheriff initially believed, his deputy was that kind of girl.
She was playing well-kept mistress.
There was no doubt to any of them why Bonnie and Clyde picked them. They had a married man getting his sauce on the side.
It was never a good thing for a marriage, but it was even more dangerous if you were living where serial killers hunted.
As she strolled through the house, she noticed it wasn’t anything spectacular. Yes, it was nice, but for someone in politics, he could have gone grander.
Then again, he was paying for his mistress to have a secret pad where he could stop for some nookie. That might have made the bankroll a little tighter.
From the walk through, she could see that there was no blood, no sign of rape, and no destruction in the home. That meant that the killers didn't do the deed at this love nest.
She had the address for the deputy in her phone, and later, they’d be heading there.
It was likely ground zero for the action.
As Merry swept the kitchen with a black and UV light, she, too, came up empty.
The shake of her head told the tale.
Yeah, it was official.
They were wasting their time there.
Elizabeth gave the order for the techs to get ready to leave. The address wasn’t too far away. Apparently, Salvatore liked to keep his mistress close by.
What a jackwagon.
It was hard to sympathize with a fornicator when a serial killer hunted you for that reason.
As she stood there, her husband approached.
“You look perplexed.”
“I am. Since they’re watchers, why didn't they use this place?” she asked. “They would have had time.”
He thought about it. “Bonnie and Clyde might have found it easier to head to the other place.”
Elizabeth didn't like any of this case. It was making her head spin.
“We need to get over there.”
“I think we should leave Dakota and his partner here.”
She stared at him. “Did he say something to piss you off? I’ll whip his ass back to the East coast.”
Blackhawk laughed. “No, he didn't. I just think that we need to really interview Veronica Boone, and he’s built a rapport with her.”
They both glanced over to see the woman weeping as she leaned heavily against the US Marshal.
“We’ll leave them,” Elizabeth stated.
Ethan watched her for any sign of emotional attachment. Was it wrong? Yes, but he needed to see that she was over the man. There was this tiny piece in him that feared she wasn’t.
When there wasn’t even a spark in her eyes as she watched her old boyfriend, Ethan was able to relax.
“Good idea. Maybe he’ll pick something up that we didn't get.”
“One can always hope.”
With that, they headed out.
“Know what I hate?” she asked, as Ethan sent the US Marshal a text, letting him know where they were going.
“What?” Ethan asked.
“Body part scavenger hunts. This is one sick, twisted game. Christmas should be about eggnog, cookies, and copious amounts of kinky sex under the tree.”
Blackhawk laughed.
With that, he had to agree.
Dakota Rakin got the text from the Feds. He read it, and was more than happy to play interviewer.
Finally!
The FBI was letting him and his partner do more than research. There was no way he was going to turn this one down. It was like an early Christmas gift.
“Mrs. Boone, can you tell us where you were the last couple of days?”
She sniffled, taking the tissue that Delaney handed her. “I was at the spa. I needed a break. We’d just come off the re-election, and Salvatore promised me a few days away before he jumped back into work in January.”
They made notes. “You went by yourself?” he asked.
“No. My sister went with me. It was supposed to be a couple’s getaway, but at the last moment, Salvatore told me to head out without him. Something came up with the budget, and he had to work on it before the inauguration next month.”
“Was it odd of him to cancel on you?”
She thought about it. “No.”
Then she burst into tears.
It caught the two Marshals off guard. “He did it all the time because of work. Who’s the other head in the box?” she asked. “I saw the news. I know what the FBI agent told the reporters. He said that the killer was taking couples. Salvatore was my husband, and he wouldn’t be someone else’s couple.”
“Ma’am, we can’t release her name yet.”
“So it was a woman.”
Crap!
He’d let that cat out of the bag.
“So, he was with another woman,” she said angrily. “Well, it’s probably a good thing he’s dead because I’d cut his dick off and feed it to him.”
Both Delaney and Dakota looked at each other.
That was odd.
She’d nailed that one on the head. Was it a coincidence that she knew the men were being ‘fixed’?
This might need a little more digging. When he was done with the interview, he was going to do a little research on this woman. Maybe it was said out of anger, but the killer was doing something very similar.
“Ma’am, we don’t know that he was cheating on you,” he offered, lying his ass off. “This killer is erratic, and they worked nearby. They might have crossed paths and the killer saw them talking.”
The anger ebbed away.
“Do you think so? I don’t want to be angry at my husband. I love him.”
He didn't know what was worse. Mourning for a cheating spouse and not knowing the truth, or hating a man you did discover was cheating. They both seemed pretty brutal to him.
Anger or misery?
It was a tough pill to swallow.
She sniffled again, drawing his attention back to her. “I still need to ask you some more questions, Mrs. Boone, but before I do, is there someone you’d like for my partner to call?”
The woman nodded, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
“Please call my sister Marsha. She lives in the next town over, and she’ll come. I can’t stay here alone,” she admitted.
He didn't blame her.
Dead heads and cheating spouse would make him want to move out too.
“Can we talk about your trip?”
She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. “We can, but I don’t see why it’s important.”
He patted her hand. “At this point, everything is important. We need to trace your steps, and your husbands, over the last couple of days.”
It then occurred to her.
“Oh my God! If I didn't go away, could that have been my head in the box?
” she asked, pointing toward the door.
He knew it wasn’t likely, especially since Bonnie and Clyde liked targeting immoral people.
Instead of telling her that, he tried to get as much out of her.
“It could have been, and that’s why it’s important you answer everything we ask. You need to be forthright about it.”
She nodded, squeezing his hand tightly. It was apparent that she wasn’t letting go until her sister was here.
Hey, whatever worked.
He needed answers.
“When did you plan this trip?” he asked.
She thought about it, chewing on her bottom lip as she pondered his question.
“It was a while ago.”
“Can you give us a timeframe?” he asked. “Just aim for a general date if you can’t be specific.”
“It was right before Thanksgiving. He won the re-election on the tenth, and then I think I asked around the twentieth.”
He made notes.
“And it was your idea?”
She nodded. “It was. I really wanted some alone time with him. When you’re running for public office, you whole life is under the magnifying glass. You can’t say or do anything wrong.”
Wow.
She was in for a surprise, as was his constituency. The man was chock full of secrets—none of them good.
“Did you go online and plan it? You know…to one of those travel sites?”
She shook her head. “Oh, I didn't plan it. My husband did. As for online, there was no way. He doesn’t trust computers. He’s a stickler for making sure his GPS is off, and he doesn’t like that Big Brother is always watching. I guess he’s a little paranoid.”
Yeah, well, he should have been.
Someone was definitely watching him.
“So, he went through a travel agent?”
She nodded. “We use Sunshine Travel in town. It’s the only agency around.”
“Was there someone specific you worked with?”
She nodded. “Yes! Juliet Singer is a gem. She can find you a great deal. It’s like she’s casting a vacation spell from her office. This spa was top of the line, and she got it for a song and a dance.”
He wanted to roll his eyes.
You get what you pay for, and this trip may have cost Salvatore Boone his life.
“Did she know who was going with you and when you’d be back?” he asked.
“Yes. When my husband didn't want to go because of work I called her and changed the reservation. We had a king sized bed reserved, and I wanted two doubles instead. My sister is a restless sleeper.”
He made notes.
It was curious that Juliet Singer had popped up now three times with all the victims. Something didn't feel right. For now, he’d make notes and get ready to pass this off. While he could do an interview, he didn't think the Feds would like him running off on his own to investigate. Why piss them off?
Patting her hand, he stared into her eyes. “Thank you for talking it out with me,” he offered.
She nodded. “I am so confused.”
He got that. Then again, in her situation, he would be too.
“It’ll be okay,” Dakota reassured.
“Really?”
He smiled but said nothing.
On the inside, he knew the truth. Her marriage was built on lies. In time, she’d be privy to it all.
Then her heart would break even more.
Chapter Twelve
Outside the mayor’s house, the Feds were met by the sheriff and a couple of his men. They were blocking access to their vehicle and had taken a defensive position.
Great.
More drama.
What the hell was wrong with this town? Honestly, this was the last thing they needed.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” she asked, standing her ground.
“We want to go with you. If Lina’s place is a crime scene, we want to help you work it.”
She shook her head. “That’s not happening.”
“Why?”
“Sheriff, you threw up when you saw her head. Do you have any idea what it’s going to look like inside her place? If they were killed there, it’s going to be a freaking bloodbath. You don’t want in on that. I know you’re thinking you do, but trust me…I don’t want in on it, and I didn't personally know the woman.”
“We’re going.”
Ethan and Callen waited for her to fight them on it. Instead, they were shocked when she backed down.
It was a Christmas miracle.
This didn't happen all that often.
“So be it, but we warned you. Don’t puke on the scene. It’s extra work for my team, and they’re already overloaded with this case.”
She hopped into their vehicle, and the men followed. When they didn't speak, she glanced over at Ethan behind the wheel. “What?”
“Wow! Who are you?”
Callen snickered from the backseat as they pulled out. “You’ve gone soft.”
“When you’re not getting laid until this baby is forty, you won’t be laughing or calling me names—now will you?”
He closed his mouth.
Now it was her turn to smile.
“If he wants to see what was done to his employee, whatever. I’m too damn tired to be fighting stupid people who don’t get it. When he sees what we walk into every day, he’s not going to be so quick to volunteer to do it again. He might even cut the FBI some slack.”
“Good point.”
“I’m going to start stressing the important things, and not the small details that I can’t control. This is one of those situations.”
“That’s probably healthy,” Callen stated. “It’s also terrifying, since it’s like pod people took over your body and are controlling you.”
She laughed. “I’m well aware, but someone has to keep the sexy Natives on their toes.”
As they pulled up to the address that her agents had forwarded her, she mentally prepared for what would be waiting.
No one liked crime scenes.
If you did, you were bat shit insane. Elizabeth wasn’t that far gone…yet.
This was their job, and they had no choice but to face the horrors of it all.
“We’re all going to suit up. I feel off.”
They stared at her. It was odd for her voluntarily to offer to wear Kevlar. She hated the stuff—especially when she was pregnant. Add it to a heavy winter jacket, and it was like being wrapped in ceramic reinforced bubble wrap.
“Okay,” Callen offered, afraid to look away.
Who was this woman?
It gave him hope that they’d have an easy pregnancy. A calm Elizabeth was always a welcome thing.
Ethan pulled their vests out of the back and passed them around. Quickly, so not to freeze to death, they all slipped out of their heavy jackets. It was bitching cold out, but they were going to need protection. Velcroing into their gear, Elizabeth was ready to roll.
“I want you both to watch your backs.”
“You do the same, baby,” Ethan stated.
Callen simply moved closer, protectively flanking her body with his much larger one.
As the sheriff approached, he caught them in mid-ritual. Each man gave her a soft kiss. In their line of work, you never knew when it would be your last.
“So I see the tabloid was right.”
She didn't even glance over at him. “I’m not a hussy, Sheriff. What I am is a pissed off Fed, insulted by a killer, who is stealing lives long before their time is up. I’d focus on that and not who I let into my britches.”
He didn't say anything.
Elizabeth didn't know if it was because of her lecture or the way both men were watching them. They could be incredibly motivating.
“Let’s head in. We need to clear the scene.”
The men followed her to the door. When she knocked, they got ready for what they were sure would be waiting for them behind the locked door.
They waited.
&n
bsp; No one answered.
Elizabeth gave the order.
“Break it in.”
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Bonnie and Clyde watched them.
From across the street, hidden in a vacant home, they took it all in. The Feds were there, and they were moving fast.
“They found it too soon,” she stated. “We didn't think they’d locate the place for a few more hours. They’re better at their jobs than the Marshals.”
He was well aware, but he wasn’t going to worry about it. He knew how to slow them down.
There was always a plan B.
“Don’t stress it,” he offered. “They’re moving in circles. They’ll never find us. You need to trust me.”
She didn't.
He was coming apart at the seams, and she knew it. With each kill, his lust for blood grew. While she was good with it at the beginning, she liked to be in charge of her own fate. This wasn’t what she planned.
Clyde was risking them, and she couldn’t let that happen.
“Okay.”
“Really, Bonnie, it’s going to work out. If you have faith, it will end the way we planned.”
She didn't have a choice.
Her DNA, fingerprints, and hair were all over that crime scene. All she could hope for now was playing Stockholm survivor if they were caught.
Yes, she’d turn on him.
He didn't realize it, but she’d already thought this out. It didn't take a genius to know Darwinism prevailed. Survival of the fittest would come into play, and she wasn’t ashamed of it either.
His well-being would be traded in a heartbeat if it meant saving her life. She wasn’t above it. She wasn’t raised a fool.
“Look at them pulling on their protective bullet proof vests. It makes me want to hurt them even more. They’re a bunch of fools.”
As long as his focus was on them, it meant she was safe. He wouldn’t take his anger out on her.
Yeah, she was good with that.
“I understand.”
He glanced over. “Let’s watch them. I bet they’ll tell the tale. There’s Elizabeth Blackhawk. She’s our target.”
Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) Page 32