Revenge has Come (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 19)

by Morgan Kelley

  Heading into the station, they ignored the people and instead focused on the building. It was neat, clean, and Ty was doing a damn good job of keeping the place running.

  She was proud of him.

  More importantly, Charlie LaRue would be proud, and that said it all.

  “Ready for a flashback?” she asked, opening the door to step inside.

  Yeah, Ethan was definitely ready for what waited for them.

  Martha.

  Once inside, they saw her behind the desk.

  “Elizabeth LaRue, you are back! Girl, you keep coming home and looking better than ever!”

  Martha headed her way and gave her a big hug.

  “You know it’s Whitefox-Blackhawk,” Elizabeth corrected, as the woman wouldn’t let her go.

  “If I pretend, I can also pretend they can be mine.”

  Callen laughed and gave her a hug. “Martha, you’re something.”

  She went after Ethan.

  He warned her, “If you grab my ass like last time, Elizabeth will hurt you.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  He hugged her and she was well-behaved. Apparently, his wife was still notorious in Salem.

  “Where’s Ty?” she asked, looking around.

  “He’s in with Tony. The man is beyond twitterpated, so watch yourself. Ty kicked in his bedroom door and his man bits were flappin’ in the breeze.”

  Elizabeth snorted.

  The men stared at her.

  They gave her the look that said, ‘you aren’t talking about an ex’s junk’.

  It was amusing.

  “What? I miss Martha. I have to actually watch the news now. It’s exhausting.”

  The older woman winked at the two men. “I can be handy.”

  “Handsy,” Ethan corrected.

  “You know me too well,” Martha admitted, as she handed all four of them a coffee before their meeting. “You’re going to need this.”

  “Thank you,” Chris said, taking the paper cup.

  “Wait!”

  He stopped moving.

  “You’re her ME, right?” she asked.

  Chris nodded. “Why?”

  “You get a hug too.”

  He took it, and when she groped him, his mouth dropped open.

  “She can’t hurt me. You’re not her husband.”

  Elizabeth laughed the entire way to into the conference room. When she walked in, everyone looked over.

  Tyrell stood, and smiled. “Elizabeth! We’ve missed you and are happy to see you!”

  She crossed to him and accepted his hug. Tyrell’s big smile, and kind eyes, always made her feel at home in Salem. He was perfect for the job of sheriff.

  “I missed you, too, Ty. I wish it were a social visit.”

  And she did wish that. Now that she’d spent weeks sulking, she couldn’t get that time back.

  It sucked.

  “I wish it were too,” he admitted.

  Before she could turn, Tony Morel was right there, and on her.

  “Well, Tony, I missed you too,” she said as he crushed her in one hell of a bear hug.

  “I missed you!” he said, breathing in her scent. “You’ve been away too long.”

  She was going to wiggle out of his arms, but the moment struck her. Elizabeth realized that Tony could have been killed, and that wounded a part of her. She hugged him back. “I’m back now. That’s what counts.”

  “Is there really a killer here?” he asked. “Are you safe?”

  Was she ever?

  Elizabeth only wished.

  She was set free by the man, and he immediately went to Ethan, Callen, and Chris, trying to play nice. Since their last visit, when he came clean about what really happened, they were trying not to kill the man.

  The distance helped.

  He hugged them both and then shook Chris’s hand in greeting. “Welcome back to Salem.”

  Ethan wasn’t sure it was good to be back. Every time they came here, someone died.

  Charlie.

  Doctor Trudeaux.

  He was worried about his wife and who was next. At least with Tony in lockdown, she wouldn’t stress it.

  “Yeah, we do have a couple of killers here. Before you ask, Ty, I have intel and I’m not pulling anything half assed,” she stated.

  He laughed. “You are your daddy’s daughter, Elizabeth.”

  She was well aware.

  “This has the potential of being a hot mess. I want to keep it low key, so not to freak people out.”

  “You mean like the great chili cookoff freak-out?” he asked. “No one in this town will even eat at the fair anymore.”

  Well, for that, she couldn’t blame them. She’d personally given up chili too.

  It was too damn creepy.

  “Yeah, like that. So, to be ready, I have two US Marshals en route, and they’ll be here later tonight. They are in DC working on interviews, and our head tech, Amir, will be coming too, once his shit is handled.”

  Ty made mental notes.

  One of the deputies raised his hand. “Amir, is that some Arabic name?”

  She glanced over and read his name tag. There was no way she was going to let this get all redneck and backwoods while she was there.

  The good ol’ boy thing wasn’t pretty.

  “Arabic is a language, Deputy Willis. Arabs are people, and he’s not fresh off the boat, so put your prejudice away. No one wants to see it.”

  The man shut up, and fast.

  It was clear that Ty had warned all of them that she wasn’t to be messed around with.

  “Who else is coming?” Ty asked.

  “We have the bare minimum when it comes to techs. Chris is going to need the keys to the morgue. He’s going to prep.”

  Deputy Willis took that moment to keep flapping his gums.

  “We don’t have any bodies. Why the worry?”

  Ethan took over. He knew his wife, and she was not one to be screwed with. Clearly, this man had a death wish.

  “Bonnie and Lizzie have tagged three more victims, and we believe this is where she’s bringing the fight. In DC, Elizabeth isn’t accessible. Here…”

  Ty got it.

  “Missy, you make sure you keep yourself out of danger. Your father would shit a ton of bricks if he saw you stirring the crazy up.”

  She was well aware.

  “Chris and the techs will handle the morgue and anyone who dies, and I’ll keep the mayhem and chaos to a minimum.”

  Both of her husbands laughed.

  “Seriously?” she asked. “You two both want to get your asses kicked?”

  Callen closed his mouth, but Ethan just winked at her.

  It wasn’t the time or the place.

  And she knew it.

  “Want to start?” she asked, pointing at the screen on the wall.

  “Yeah, but we don’t have a lot of tech here,” stated Tyrell. “I have enough in the budget for oil changes and that’s all. Oh, and we buy the oil and do the changes ourselves.”

  She got it.

  She’d been in charge here.

  “I think I can help with that,” Elizabeth offered. “Cal?”

  He headed toward the man’s laptop sitting on the table. “May I?” he asked.

  “Help yourself, Callen.”

  He sat down, pulled his smart phone from his pocket, took a cable out, and connected them.

  Callen typed in a command, and the laptop was sent the information.

  “I hope there’s some pretty pictures of naked ladies on there,” the Deputy Willis teased.

  “Cal, start with the pictures.”

  He got it. This was a lesson for the redneck cop whose daddy likely got him the job.

  He began flipping through them as she narrated.

  “Here’s the lawyer who was killed in Damascus. He was beheaded and sodomized with an ax.”

  She wrote lawyer on the board.

  Everyone checked out the crime scene photos, and they looked appalled.
>
  Well, they hadn’t seen anything yet.

  “Here’s the teacher she took apart,” she said, putting up pictures of the nun.

  A few of them crossed themselves.

  “Finally, here’s the doctor.”

  That’s when the smart ass got sick. He grabbed a wastepaper can and tossed his breakfast.

  They waited.

  When he was finished, she stared at him. “Are you done being a dick and making comments?” she asked. “This is no laughing matter. What’s living, preying, and soon to be killing in this town is like nothing you’ve ever seen, Deputy.”

  Ty shook his head, signaling that the man needed to slow his roll.

  Fortunately, he didn’t speak again.

  “Who is next, Elizabeth, and how can we help?” Tyrell asked, trying to bridge the gap between his deputies and the FBI.

  “We’re going to give you guys pictures of the two women who are behind this. We want you to drive around, and start asking people if they saw them.”

  “And if they did?” the female deputy asked, playing with a strand of her brown hair.

  “And you are?” Elizabeth asked. She was surprised the woman could think. She’d been drooling over Ethan since the second they walked into the room. Fortunately, for her sake, Ethan didn’t even notice her.

  Heads would roll.

  “I’m Deputy Harmony Baker, ma’am.”

  “Well, Deputy Harmony Baker, If you see them, or someone else in town has, then you call me,” she stated, handing out her business cards. “Don’t approach them, don’t screw with them, and certainly don’t yell ‘sheriff’s office’. That’s asking to get yourself slaughtered,” she said, pointing at the pictures on the screen.

  They all took the cards and said nothing.

  “The FBI is handling the killers, and all I really need from you, Ty, and your deputies, is to be my eyes and ears in town. While I’m from here, people are more interested at gawking at me than sharing dirt.”

  He got it.

  She was a celebrity there.

  Her life was a curiosity that no one could ignore. She was pretty, her father had been a kick ass sheriff, and she had two Native husbands.

  It was the latter that garnered the most attention.

  “We got it,” Tyrell stated. “To make this as easy for you as possible, you can work out of here, Elizabeth, or you can have your old office back.”

  That intrigued the one deputy. He couldn’t have been a day over twenty—if that.

  “It was your office?” asked a freckly faced cop by the name of Deputy Billing.

  Elizabeth took a seat on the corner of the one desk, her booted foot swinging back and forth. She was at home here, and with good reason.

  “Yeah, I used to run this nut farm. Now I work back in DC.”

  “I don’t remember a Whitefox-Blackhawk,” the guy stated, reading her name off the card.

  “Remember a Charlie LaRue?” she asked Deputy Billing.

  He grinned. “He was one hell of a badass. When I was a kid, he jumped off Perkins bridge to save some boy who was screwing around.”

  She recalled.

  “He made a huge ass splash when he hit the water, but he didn’t lose the kid. He pulled him to shore, tossed him over his shoulder, and carried him up the hill. He was like freaking Paul Bunyan.”

  She laughed.

  “He would have loved that reference,” Elizabeth stated—possibly because it was true. Her father had been a brick shithouse with more love for Salem than anyone else.

  He’d died for this town.

  “Well, son,” Ty stated, “That is her daddy,” Ty admitted, “so show her some respect. You treat her like you’d treat Charlie LaRue. He raised a good girl.”

  Callen snorted.

  She smacked him in the back of the head without even flinching.

  “Don’t do it,” she warned.

  He zipped it.

  “Are there any questions to anyone’s role?” she asked, needing to wrap this up. There was no doubt in her mind that Bonnie was lurking.

  They needed to get moving.

  No one spoke up.

  Elizabeth held out her hand. “Like I mentioned earlier, Ty, we need to borrow the morgue,” she said.

  He pulled his keys out of his pocket and pulled one off the ring. “Don’t drive it like you stole it, Elizabeth,” he teased.

  She held the key in her hand and thought about HIM.

  God!

  Coming in there was hard.

  Going into the morgue?

  That was going to be a bitch.

  “I’ll vouch for Chris. He’s going to treat her like he would a lady. No one respects the dead more,” she stated, passing the key off to her best friend.

  Ty smiled. “I trust you. For the record, no one’s been in there since Doc Trudeaux. We just don’t have the heart to hire anyone.”

  She got it.

  He’d been killed and eaten.

  That was a tough thing to swallow.

  Literally.

  Chris saw the look on her face.

  He knew what he needed to do.

  “Honey, I have to get my gear. Maybe you can go open it up and take a minute?” he asked. “When you’re done, I’ll check it out.”

  He knew how hard this was going to be.

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Callen, can you help me get my gear ready?” Chris asked, giving him the look.

  He got it.

  “Can do, Doctor,” he said. “Let me make these copies and avoid Martha’s pat down at the copier.”

  She appreciated her team.

  Elizabeth knew what they were doing.

  Still...

  She didn’t want to be alone.

  “Ethan?” she asked, hopefully. He was watching her with his blue-black gaze, as if studying her. It was damn hard to pull anything over on him.

  This place had rattled her.

  The morgue would really shake her.

  “I’ll come with you,” Ethan offered, holding out his hand. “We’ll clear out the cobwebs together.”

  That worked for her.

  Ethan took her hand in his, and they strolled past Martha at the front desk.

  “I’m dusting Callen for prints. If I find any from you on him…”

  Martha laughed and raised her hands in surrender. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

  She took her word for it.

  Outside, they headed through the parking lot and to the building beside the sheriff’s station. Ethan guided her past the memorial for the man who was like a father to her growing up.

  There were sunny red flowers on his stone, and the urn was brassy and shiny.

  “Hey, Doc,” she said, taking a moment.

  For the next few minutes, there was silence. She said nothing as she stared at the plaque.

  Then, she was done.

  “I’m ready,” Elizabeth stated.

  Ethan was good with that.

  At the morgue doors, he took the key from her and unlocked it.

  “After you,” he offered.

  Elizabeth hit the lights and headed in. Once there, she was assaulted by the memories.

  There was that familiar old smell.

  “It’s his cologne,” she stated.

  When she’d left last time, it was a totally different part of her life going on. Ethan was back from abduction, but barely, and she was burying someone she loved.

  “Oh, Doc,” she said, once she entered the small workspace.

  On the metal desk was his bag.

  That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  It made her cry.

  Ethan held her in his arms. His wife had yet to really mourn Samuel Trudeaux’s death. He’d been killed, and she’d chased a killer. Then she’d had to burn the man’s vacation home down to save Oracle. This was a long time coming.

  Ethan held her through the storm.

  He knew a part of the breakdown was her fear she wouldn’t
catch the two killers before they hit closer to home. They were all worried about it.

  He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t scaring the shit out of him.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, stroking her back. When she looked up, his mouth found hers, offering her anything she needed.

  Elizabeth fell into kiss.

  It was wonderful and so warm. She never wanted to surface. His mouth was beating back the fear, anger, and worry better than anything ever would.

  Ethan knew her.

  Here was the proof.

  When he finally did set her lips free, she was breathless. “Ethan.”

  He ran his fingers over her lower lip. “I love you so much that I’m actually thinking about sex in a morgue. You have definitely cast a spell over me.”

  She laughed.

  “You just blamed me for your perverted behavior. It’s good to see Callen definitely gets it from the Blackhawk gene pool.”

  He lecherously wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Well? What’s the verdict?”

  When she ran her hand down his chest and straight to his belt, Ethan held his breath.

  While sex in a morgue was creepy, he knew she needed that connection.

  What wouldn’t he do for her?

  “I think I’d like to make some memories with you,” she admitted.

  That was all he had to hear.

  Ethan set her free to go lock the main door—just in case. Once it was closed, he headed right for her.

  She saw the intent in his eyes, and it turned her on. Racing toward him, she jumped into his arms.

  Ethan caught her, even as her legs went around his hips. Their mouths fused together, and they became one.

  It was a beautiful thing.

  In that moment, they were the same old Ethan and Elizabeth. They were the beginning, and they’d be the end.

  They raged through the kiss.

  That heat threatened to swamp them. When she pulled away, they were both heated up.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” he said, dropping her onto one of the metal tables.

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  Well, if the lady wanted him to, who was he to complain? Yeah, he never would. After almost seven weeks without her, he’d have sex on a park bench during a parade.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered, as her mouth slid from his and moved across his throat. When she teased his earlobe, he swore he became even harder.

  His wife had that effect on him.

  And Callen.

  It made him think.