“Oh, yes, I am. Good luck with the lecture, and knock them dead.”
With that, Gabe walked away.
He’d given his agent as many helping hands as he could, and he was done doing it.
It was time to back off and let it go. From here on out, Blackhawk was on his own.
Ethan watched him walk away. Then he took the microphone sitting on the counter, and he headed into the auditorium.
For now, he had other priorities.
Like his job.
They had to come first.
* * * E l i z a b e t h L a R u e * * *
Boston
Late Morning
Detective Max Bronson was lucky to be alive. He was well aware that if Elizabeth LaRue hadn’t taken him down, he would have been wearing a few holes in his body.
And that would have sucked.
He had just found out about his kid not that long ago, and he’d like to see him graduate from school, get married, and have kids of his own.
He had to stay alive.
Whoever was shooting at them was playing a dirty game, and he knew it. Only, they didn’t have much to go on the suspect. He’d called it in, and now it was time to move on.
“How’s your arm?” he asked.
“Scraped, but I’ve been hurt worse. Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, thanks. I owe you one. Let me buy you a beer after work.”
She knew that Chris wanted to have dinner, and she was already pushing it on time.
“Some other time. I have something planned for this evening.”
“Oh, you have a date, don’t you?” he teased.
“Are you twelve?”
“Maybe.”
She snorted.
“Yes, I have a date.”
Fortunately, Max dropped it there. Elizabeth didn’t plan on saying too much about her relationship.
“I’ll hold you to that, especially if it doesn’t work with the ME. I’ll be available,” Max said, pointing at the house.
“Then you’ll be waiting a long time,” she stated.
He let it go.
Since she’d been more than helpful by saving his life, he was going to keep it light.
“Arthur Morton was the only neighbor who popped for me. Something about him rubbed me the wrong freaking way, but I want your impression of him.”
“What do we know?” she asked, willing to give him her impression as soon as she had one. These interviews were taking forever.
Maybe it was the not-so-random drive-by shooting…
“He’s been known to fall on the wrong side of the law, and I will say that I hear that the vice unit has been watching him for some drug running.”
“And?”
“Mob-related drug running.”
“Well, they seem to be all over this case. I don’t know if that’s going to help us or make this a real bitch,” she stated.
Oh, he already knew the answer to that.
That’s why they had to call in the FBI.
“How much do you know about the mob here?” Elizabeth asked, hoping to get some insight into it.
It was time to give her a heads-up. He wasn’t handed this case for shits and giggles. He had experience with them and Michael O’Banion.
“You should know something.”
She stared at him.
“You’re not going to tell me you’re working for the mob, are you? I’d hate to shoot you.”
He found her funny and charming in that viper kind of way.
“No, but I’ve been asked to head a mob task force. I’m going to be starting it up in a week. I normally handle a lot of mob cases, so I know what I’m up against.”
She got it.
When in Boston…
“And you think this Arthur Morton is connected?”
He nodded.
“I know he is. We are watching him in connection to O’Banion. The man has his fingers in everything, all the way back to the commissioner’s office. The whole house is dirty.”
He trusted her.
Max hoped that didn’t bite him in the ass.
“That’s not good.”
“Yeah, I figured you saved me, so you can’t be on the take,” he said to her.
“I’m not. I protect and serve. I don’t protect and serve my interests. I’m here to find the killer, and if I can make O’Banion squirm, or take him down—if he’s involved—I’m all in.”
He was good with that.
“Let’s go talk to Arthur,” she said. He was ready for them. Elizabeth could see him smoking on his front porch as he watched them. She didn’t doubt that he was enjoying the show.
Well, the drive-by shooting.
His amusement was about to change. She was going to make sure of that.
Together, they crossed the street, and they headed toward the man’s porch.
“You can stop right there. I have rights, and you aren’t welcome on my property.”
Slizabeth wasn’t going to make this easy.
She pulled her badge.
“Aren’t you cute?”
No, she was a bitch. Clearly, this man couldn’t tell when he was provoking the wrong person. She’d just dodged a bullet.
Literally.
This pansy ass criminal was the least of her issues.
“Listen, Arthur, just answer the questions, and we’ll leave,” she stated.
He laughed.
“Make me.”
Two could play that game.
“Okay. I’ll ask the FBI to sit on your house twenty-four-seven to see what crawls out of the woodwork.”
He stopped laughing.
Yeah, she figured he wouldn’t like that at all.
“You need cause in order to do that.”
It was time to play the game. She was getting good at it over the last few weeks.
“Ever hear of J. Edgar Hoover? He didn’t have cause for anything, and yet there were thousands of secret files. I hope you don’t make the FBI mad. Your boss, O’Banion, might get angry if you bring the shit storm to Boston because you wouldn’t answer a few questions about your neighbor.”
She saw the look.
Yeah, he was working for the mob.
“Fine. Ask.”
“The night that Naomi Emery was killed, what did you see?” she asked.
“Nothing. Honestly, I wasn’t home all night. Like I told the detective when he was being a pain in my ass the first time. I had business elsewhere. I didn’t roll in until the police were already here.”
She didn’t believe him.
“Where was that business?”
Yeah, no.
He wasn’t going there.
“In hell. Move on.”
She knew there was nothing she could do to make him spill it. There were rules, and unfortunately, even for a snake like him, she had to follow them.
It sucked, but that was why she had a badge and he didn’t. She would bend the rules, but she wouldn't break them ever again. Lesson learned.
“Thank you for your help. Send your boss my regards. After that drive-by shooting, I’m sure he’ll know exactly who you’re talking about.”
He kept his mouth shut.
Good.
She didn’t want to hear it.
They walked away.
“See? The mob,” Max said. “Oh, and way to poke the hive. Do you have a death wish?”
No, but she wasn’t afraid of O’Banion. He’d have his day. If anything happened to her, she knew Gabe would have the whole town inundated.
“I like to live on the edge. Sue me.”
He could see that.
“Do you buy that he didn’t have anything to do with her murder?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I couldn’t connect him to the other two victims. That’s the issue. Nothing connects. I don’t know if it’s because he didn’t do it or if the mob is erasing the trail to keep us off their tails. If one of O’Banion’s minions gets busted, that’s bad for him.”
Yeah, that was a problem.
“The only thing I do know to be fact is that right now, he’s calling his boss to tell him we were digging. We’ll be lucky if no one shoots at us the rest of the day.”
Great.
That didn’t make her happy.
At all.
“Next?” he asked.
“I feel like heading to Harvard.”
“Great. I like to be shot at and feel inadequate almost all day. It builds character.”
He made her laugh.
“And you have a kid?” she asked.
“Yeah, Max Junior. I knocked his mother up, and then we broke up. I found out about him two years ago, and I’m trying to do the right thing.”
Well, at least he wasn’t a total asshole.
The guy was doing right by his child.
“Want to come back to my place and see where I do all my best work?” Max asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
There went that impression out the freaking window.
He was a total asshole.
“Yeah, pass. I like my men a little less skeezy and a whole lot less family orientated—as in having children with other women.”
He laughed.
“Story of my damn life.”
She had news for him. It was going to be that way for a lot of women. He was batting a big fat zero on the female attraction chart.
Smart, sexy doctor or a sperm-depositing cop?
That, for her, was a no-brainer.
That was for damn sure.
* * * E l i z a b e t h L a R u e * * *
Washington D.C.
As Callen sat at her desk, he was greatly amused. He’d found more notes, and they ranged from funny to downright sweet. The woman who owned this desk was one hell of a mystery.
The most recent note he found was taped to the inside of her lamp.
It made him laugh the second he’d found it. She was either trying to cheer someone up who was sitting in her domain, or distract them so they got no work done whatsoever.
Callen was beginning to believe it was the latter.
The file went out the window as soon as he began his scavenger hunt.
‘Don’t be a dim wit. Keep your hands off my bulb.’
Honestly, Callen had come into the office feeling lost and ready to give up, and here, he’d found someone who didn’t even know him had lightened his mood.
God!
He’d needed this.
As he found each message, he wrote about her in his little journal.
“Are you doodling?” Gabe asked, standing behind him as he watched the man.
Callen actually jumped.
“What?”
“You’re over here smiling and laughing. Are you in need of medical help? I have to say that’s a little alarming to people not in on the joke.”
He shook his head.
“The woman who owns this desk is funny. She’s amused me the whole time.”
Gabe lifted a brow.
There was nothing funny about LaRue playing cowboy with her life.
It was terrifying.
“She’s something all right. Mostly, she’s a pain in my ass all day long.”
“What’s she like?”
He thought about it.
“She’s very smart, a good agent, and reckless with her own life.”
“Is she married?”
That made him laugh even more.
“That would be like fucking a porcupine, son. Trust me. She’s prickly on a good day. On a bad one…yeah, no.”
He still found her…charming.
“Well, the most difficult people are the best ones to know. They have depth.”
“What are you writing?” Gabe asked.
Callen touched the journal with his rough fingers. It was valuable to him. It was a gift from Timothy, and now it contained his salvation.
His story to write.
“I like to write, and this desk has given me inspiration. Thank you.”
“The profiling lecture is over. Ethan has left the building for the day. You don’t have to hide here.”
“Then I think I’ll head to my hotel.”
“Are you sticking around a few days?”
He looked at the desk as he thought about it. “You know what? I think I might. I’ll let you know.”
Gabe had an idea.
“If you stick around long enough, she’ll be back. I can introduce you. You might like her. Maybe you two can get a drink.”
Callen thought about it.
“Is she Native?” he asked, getting his hopes up. If the FBI had hired Ethan, then maybe...
“No, she’s not, but she is trouble.”
Well, that sucked. For some reason, he felt a connection to this woman. He was drawn to her compassion and sense of humor. Her intelligence was also sexy.
“Well, I’ll have to pass.”
Gabe shrugged.
Callen knew that unless she was full-blooded Native, Timothy would shit a ton of bricks if he even tried. He’d never let Callen marry or even date anyone who would dilute the bloodline.
The Blackhawks had been there and done that.
“See you tomorrow then.”
Callen watched him leave, and then, he tucked a few of the notes into his journal. When he finally began writing his first novel, he’d use them.
As inspiration.
“Mystery woman, you may have just saved my life. No, you definitely did. I wanted to die. Now I really think I might be okay after all. I need to define me, and a book will do it.”
Callen Whitefox got down to work on the files on the desk. She’d helped him.
Now he’d return the favor.
He’d give her a hand.
Even though his mind was somewhere else.
* * * E l i z a b e t h L a R u e * * *
Boston Morgue
Afternoon
Chris was more than happy to help his team out. The techs were processing information, and he was by their sides doing just that. After a few hours, Doctor Julliard was there, and she was being a pain in his ass.
She was standing too close to him, invading his personal space. She was asking too many questions, trying to pry into his personal life, and making him uncomfortable.
Chris wasn’t sure if she was doing it intentionally or she was just normally like that.
It was up in the air.
Either way, he was praying for an intervention like she went home for the day.
Only one thing saved him.
Thank God Tony was there. When he left, Chris was leaving too. The prospect of being there alone with Doctor Julliard was stressful.
“Doctor, what can I help you with?” she asked. “Do you need me to help you clean your tools?” she asked.
Chris looked around.
He wasn’t using any tools.
Was he missing something?
“Uh, no, thank you.”
“Are you sure? I’m readily available to assist you in any way,” she offered.
Tony snickered from his spot not far away. Clearly, Chris was missing something.
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s FBI paperwork. I’ve got it under control.”
She was relentless.
Doctor Julliard moved closer to him.
“How about happy hour? It’s Friday, and we can go to this place I know to get a drink.”
Yeah, that was NOT happening now or ever. He had a longstanding happy hour date. The only other person he’d be taking up that offer with was Tony.
Chris knew better.
“Sorry, Doctor Julliard, but I have a date this evening. I’m sorry but I’m not available.”
Tony even looked up.
“You do?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Doctor Julliard didn’t seem to get the hint.
The woman was practically breathing down his neck. Her breast was squished against his arm, and he was really uncomfortable.
He didn’t like aggressive women.
Well, okay, he liked aggressive Elizabeth, but that was about it. This woman was pushing too hard, and it was making him really uncomfortable.
Chris was beginning to believe that was the point.
“Well, that’s too bad. I think we’d work well together,” she said, tripping and falling into Chris.
He caught her.
“You have excellent reflexes,” she said, touching his arm and giving it a squeeze. “You must work out.”
Okay, he was beyond uncomfortable.
He felt like prey.
That was NEVER a good feeling.
Chris quickly set her free as she got a little too handsy for his liking.
“Uh, thank you.”
Tony was hovering, and he’d never been happier about that in his life. Chris was pretty sure that the woman felt him up—through his scrubs. There was a full-frontal grope to parts of him now reserved for his girlfriend.
Maybe he was overreacting.
She did just fall.
When the phone across the room rang, she left to answer it, and Tony was practically on top of him. Chris knew what was coming. Had the woman not been crowding him, he never would have mentioned it.
“Spill it,” Tony stated.
Chris tried to sound confused.
“About?”
Tony gave him the look. It was between disbelief and rampant curiosity.
“You have a date?”
“Yes.”
“With who?”
He didn’t say her name.
And because he didn’t, Tony immediately knew what he was trying to do—and who he was trying to protect.
“Elizabeth? Are you taking her on a date? Is it finally official?”
Chris shrugged.
It was killing him.
He wanted to tell someone.
It was like finding something so amazing, and not being able to tell anyone you worked with.
For Christ’s sake!
They all spent more time together than apart. It wasn’t like he’d come to his house, see her sitting in his lap, and not put two and two together.
“Come on! I won’t say a word. I swear to God. I’m living vicariously through you,” Tony begged.
Dawn of Evil_FBI Flashback Page 16
