True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3))

by Kelley, Morgan

  Sheila put out her cigarette and threw herself at the sexy FBI agent. It was the perfect opportunity, and hopefully the woman would see him consoling her. His stupid wife deserved to feel the jealousy after she got Bobby Lee killed. Her and that wannabe Morticia Addams both deserved to hurt.

  Blackhawk patted her back. Then he saw his way out. “You,” he pointed at his tech, getting ready to light up on his cigarette break. “Please take Ms. Court inside.” Ethan passed her off on him. “Thank you,” he watched the tech walk away with the woman, and Sheila was completely confused as to what just happened. Quickly he pulled on his glove, picked up the discarded butt, and dropped it in the evidence bag. His mission was done, and he was going to drop it in his wife’s lap and tell her he was finished playing DNA collector. His brother was going to have to handle the last two.

  Elizabeth was waiting for him when he closed the conference room.

  “I know you enjoyed every second of that,” he said laughing, as he handed her the evidence bag. Once he began taking his coat off, she stopped him.

  “Know why I love and hate your coat, Ethan?” she asked, snapping on a pair of gloves and walking towards him with tweezers.

  “No.” It was official. She lost her mind. The baby hormones finally won and drove his beautiful wife to madness.

  “I love it because you look absolutely sexy in it, but hate it because it catches all my hair whenever you hug me.” Elizabeth moved incredibly close and checked the front of his coat. “Hello there long blonde hair. Come to the very tricky Director Special Agent Blackhawk!” Elizabeth pulled the hair from the wool.

  “Is that…?” He was getting excited.

  “That my love was her thinking she could piss me off by throwing herself at my husband, and because I am an infinitely calm woman and knew it was coming, I get the payoff and the DNA evidence.”

  “That’s why you insisted I wear the wool and not the parka? Unbelievable.”

  “Next time Cowboy, trust your partner,” she winked. “This hair has a root, and we now can compare it directly to the hair that was on the victims.”

  “I’ve decided that you are definitely an evil genius.” Then he thought about it. “What am I then? Do I get to be your sidekick?” he asked, rubbing his hands manically.

  Elizabeth patted him on the ass, laughing. “You get to be woman bait.”

  Blackhawk laughed. “I feel so cheap.”

  Elizabeth wandered around the photo and gift shop owned by Courtney Brewer, taking in the setup. It was eclectically arranged and looked like she took a great deal of pride in her business. As she picked up the items she had on display, she wasn’t really focused on it. All that she was seeking were Ethylene Glycol related items. So far she’d spotted a printer, a coffee pot that could have been used, and then a large machine she was guessing was used to develop pictures.

  Ethan was across the room, wandering the same way she was, as they both examined the scene and tried to get their bearings before they pulled the woman aside. Courtney Brewster was definitely a blond, and of the four women they suspected, the only true blond. Her eyes were a pale blue and she had the freckles splattered across her nose. She suddenly wondered if they checked to see if the killer’s hair had been color treated, and she pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Christina to set her on that trail. She also sent it to her husband, so he would be keyed in to what she was thinking.

  Then she knew how she was going to get some evidence.

  “Can I help you find something?” asked Courtney Brewer. She was watching the two FBI agents walking around her shop.

  “No just looking, and waiting for you to free up yourself from your customers. Do you have a few moments to talk to me?” she asked.

  “I guess I can get a few moments free.”

  “Do you have a room we can talk privately?” Elizabeth inquired. “This pregnancy is killing me and I would love to get off my feet for two minutes.”

  “Oh sure! Would you like some coffee? I just made a pot,” she offered.

  “That would be terrific. I’ll have it however you’re having yours,” she stated, and looked over at her husband. He was hiding a grin; she could see the curl at the corners of his mouth. The telltale give away that he was about to laugh.

  “Great, I could use a break anyway,” she answered, pouring two cups of coffee in paper cups, mixing in sugar and creamer for both of them. Handing the agent a cup, she spoke, “Follow me.”

  Elizabeth winked at her husband, and waited for the perfect opportunity to get the evidence they needed. When he mouthed ‘behave’, she nearly laughed and had to work really hard to cover it.

  “Is the break room okay?” she asked, leading her to a tiny room.

  “It’s great, thank you.” Elizabeth took a seat close to the woman and pretended to sip her coffee. If Courtney was a killer, she wasn’t drinking coffee that she prepared, unless she absolutely had to do it. Until then, she was going to fake it.

  “What can I do for you, Agent? I’m sure this has to do with the murders, and since I don’t know what’s going on, I’m really curious.”

  “I’m just here to ask all the shop owners if they’ve seen any of these men before,” Elizabeth said simply, pulling out the pictures. She noticed Courtney was drinking her coffee, and not wary about it, and she knew how she was going to get her DNA.

  Courtney Brewer flipped through all the pictures. “No, I haven’t seen any of these men in town. If I had I’d tell you.” Courtney drank more coffee.

  “Do you by any chance use Ethylene Glycol in your picture development?” she asked, cutting to the chase.

  Courtney looked confused. “I honestly don’t know. I just order the solution off the internet. I can give you the name of my distributer and they may be able to give you that answer,” she answered, grabbing a flyer off the table and borrowed Elizabeth’s pen. Writing the name of the website down and passing it and the pen to her.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth rubbed her temples.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, touching her arm.

  “I have a wicked headache today, and I left my purse back at the sheriff’s office,” Elizabeth said, trying to look like she was in pain. “They don’t tell you this pregnancy thing is going to be brutal.”

  Courtney offered the woman a sympathetic look. “I have Tylenol in my office. Can you have that while pregnant?”

  “Oh God, I would love some. Thank you so much,” she overzealously answered, smiling sweetly. “I’d appreciate it.”

  “Be right back,” she stood and left the room.

  Elizabeth moved fast, she took a large sip of her coffee to make the cups look even, and she prayed it wasn’t poisoned. Then she switched cups. Courtney’s DNA would be on the rim of the cup. Was it sketchy legally? Yeah, well it would save a life if she was the killer. Next she pulled out an evidence bag and slid the pen and paper into it, her fingerprints would be all over them, and maybe they could match them if the killer ever left a print. Standing up, Elizabeth packed up the pictures and was waiting when Courtney came back in.

  “Thank you!” She willingly accepted the packet of Tylenol. “I just got a text, there’s an emergency. I have to go. Thank you for the coffee,” Elizabeth said, picking up the cup and shaking the woman’s hand. “If I have any questions I’ll stop back in.”

  “Oh, okay. Feel better, Agent,” she said, watching the woman walk away. That had to be her oddest interaction she’d ever had with anyone in her life.

  Elizabeth met her husband outside the shop.

  “A coffee break, Elizabeth?” he paused. “I hope you didn’t drink any of that!” Ethan was alarmed now as he noticed there was only half a cup of coffee.

  “I had to take a sip, and then I switched cups when I got her to leave the room. This cup has Courtney Brewers DNA on it.” Elizabeth told him all about it, as she sat in the Denali.

  Blackhawk wasn’t sure how he felt about his wife having to drink the coffee in her little game
of switcheroo.

  “Then,” and she pulled out the bag with the pen and paper. “Here are her fingerprints, just in case my holding this cup has ruined any of hers.”

  Now he was impressed and leaned over to kiss his wife. “You’re pretty devious, Mrs. Blackhawk.”

  “Hey, all in a day’s work,” she grinned, carefully holding the cup. “Come on Cowboy, let’s head back in and deposit the three samples. Then get something to eat. Baby Blackhawk is starving.”

  Now he laughed. “When isn't he? He takes after his mother.”

  * * *

  Christina packed up the tech van, and prepped the evidence log for shipment. Inside the van they opted to stack the six victims and all the evidence they gathered. Shipping it back to FBI West would just ensure its security. Plus the make shift cooler in the morgue was backed up, and they were lacking space.

  As she signed off on the inventory, Derek Williams wandered in smiling. “Hey Christina! Good morning!”

  She laughed. “Derek, it’s six at night.”

  “Well, it’s morning for me,” he grinned. “What’s on the night shift agenda?” He couldn’t help but notice that she was taking an inventory. “Are we heading home?” he asked, hopefully. He missed sleeping in his own bed with his girlfriend. The long distance assignments were hell on a relationship.

  “No, we’re shipping back the bodies and the evidence. Doctor Adare wouldn’t want us leaving this here.”

  “I’m taking a road trip?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Yep. Blackhawk wants me in house in case there’s another body. Do you mind doing the transport?”

  “Heck no, when do I have to be back?” he asked. Maybe he could sneak home and surprise his girlfriend.

  Christina laughed. “By six a.m. I’m back on shift then.”

  “When will transport be ready?” In his mind he was already calculating the time he had to fool around with before returning.

  “I can have it ready to go in the next hour or so, and then you have roughly ten hours in your shift to get back here.” There was no missing what the man was thinking of doing. “When you drop everything off at FBI West, I need you to check in and have the tech on duty send me an email confirming sign off on evidence.”

  “Got it.”

  “Until then, the bosses brought in some DNA samples we have to prep. They won’t be on the truck. I need to get them logged and started for the lab back home. Why don’t you start there?”

  “I love my job.”

  Christina laughed. “Get moving, or you won’t have your conjugal visit with the girlfriend when you get home,” she teased and laughed even harder when he saluted her.

  Yeah, she loved her job too.

  * * *

  It was time. She stood in front of her mirror looking at herself and inspecting her outfit. It just wouldn’t do for the evening’s plans. She hated getting her pretty things ruined. It was hard to find things that fit her just right, since she wasn’t the typical size. Those items of clothing must be kept in pristine shape, or her true love might be angry. When he got angry, bad things happened and that was never a good thing.

  As she began stripping she went to his side of the closet to borrow some of his things, after all he wouldn’t mind. They shared everything and it was all for him. She pulled down a shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans, and they fit, almost as if they were made for her.

  Maybe it was time to head back to the gym. Oh well, she’d think about it later. Her lover wasn’t complaining, and she looked the same. Or at least she thought she did. Confusion filled her mind, and she shook her head, hoping to shake it away. Pulling on a pair of boots, she was ready to begin her night.

  Time to go see who she could find to help her rebuild the love of her life.

  * * *

  Friday evening

  Blackhawk sat on the couch in the living room, eating pizza with his wife, as they went over tech reports that kept coming in on his phone. Christina was sending out Derek Williams with the bodies of the victims back to FBI West. As he looked at his watch, he calculated the time it would take for him to reach headquarters. Fortunately it wouldn’t be too late.

  “I hear a car,” Elizabeth said, taking a bite of her pizza. “Thank God they’re back.” She’d recently just gotten off the phone with Timothy and he’d voiced his concerns regarding Desdemona’s choice in spirit guides and Callen’s full commitment to the woman. He wasn’t the only one concerned, but they decided to let Callen live his life as he wanted.

  As the front door open, and her brother-in-law carrying in a giant suitcase that had to be packed with women’s things, she relaxed marginally.

  Blackhawk laughed.

  “What’s in the bag Doc?” she asked, grinning.

  “From the way it feels, a body,” Whitefox answered and dropped it in the living room. “Please tell me there’s more pizza. I had to eat vegetable stew for lunch.”

  Blackhawk laughed. “That’s sheer torture.”

  “There’s plenty of pizza, and it’s your favorite too.” Elizabeth pointed to the kitchen.

  “Crap,” he muttered. “I lost a bet. I can’t eat meat for a week.”

  Elizabeth began choking on her pizza and she thought her husband was going to try to administer the Heimlich. “What?” she barely got the word out. “Seriously? That had to be one hell of a bet,” she said, appalled. “Or this vegetarianism thing is contagious. If that’s the case, stay the hell away from me!”

  Callen grinned wickedly and went over and kissed his Elizabeth all over her face and then on the lips softly and tenderly. “Oops, looks like you're next.”

  “If I start craving veggies, I’m going to kick your ass back to granddad and her too.” Now she was laughing and wiping the wet kisses from her face with her sleeve.

  Ethan Blackhawk laughed at the two of them.

  “You could always pick the meat off,” suggested Desdemona sweetly. She didn’t miss the final kiss he gave her, and it pulled more jealousy from her and she fought it down. “Or order a plain pizza with soy cheese if possible.”

  Whitefox took the menu his brother just held up for him and stared incredulously at the woman. “Hell no! We didn’t say I couldn’t eat cheese either. You do realize I’m a man, right? I’m already emasculated enough over this. I’d rather starve.”

  Desdemona snickered and hung up her coat and his.

  Taking the menu he left the room to order a plain pizza for them with REAL cheese. When he came back, he carried the suitcase up the stairs for Desdemona. “No meat and I have to work as a pack mule. Inhumane,” he muttered to her.

  “I’m going to take a shower and get changed,” she smiled sweetly. “Don’t eat the pizza with the meat. You promised,” she laughed walking up the stairs.

  When she was gone, Ethan couldn’t help but ask. “What the hell kind of contest would have you giving up meat?”

  “I’m not saying. It’s too embarrassing.”

  Elizabeth began laughing. “Spill it, Callen, or I’ll go up and ask her. She’ll tell me too because of girlfriend code.”

  “Shooting my damn rifle.”

  Both Blackhawks laughed. “You’re saying the ME who doesn’t eat meat out shot you with a gun we’ve used since we were kids?” Ethan found that super funny. He walked to the kitchen for more pizza and a beer. His brother looked like he needed one too.

  Elizabeth wanted to bust his ass so bad, but she could see he was actually embarrassed about it.

  “Do I need to send you back in to re-qualify?” yelled his brother from the kitchen, and then followed it up with amused laughter.

  “Shut up, Ethan. How was I supposed to know she handles a rifle like Wyler? I didn’t know her bayou hobby was shooting gators between the eyes. Plus she was trying to distract me with sex.”

  Now Elizabeth was laughing. “Well that explains it then. Sex is very distracting.”

  Ethan was still laughing.

  “Hey, let’s go outside and you shoot cans
off a log while Elizabeth is running her hands all over your body,” and mine, but he kept the last part about Elizabeth distracting him to himself out of self-preservation. The idea made his heart skip in his chest.

  Ethan thought about it, and he would have missed too.

  “Well she did tell us that she was good with a shotgun. You should have challenged her with the Glock,” she grinned. “Callen, I beat Ethan on our yearly handgun qualify. Don’t feel bad,” she winked.

  Ethan was grinning like an idiot. He loved the idea a woman handed his brother his ass in something. “Welcome to my world of being grotesquely inadequate in something against the fairer sex.”

  “Only one thing sweetheart?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

  Blackhawk snorted. “Tell me about it.”

  Whitefox laughed and watched Elizabeth head into the kitchen to ditch her plate. “Uh, I have to do something and I hope you forgive me after the fact,” he warned his brother. When Blackhawk’s eyebrow lifted he grinned. “I’ll explain after I make out with your wife, but I swear I won’t enjoy a second of it.”

  “Oh well I’ll just calmly sit here while you do that then.” It was funny that his brother was asking permission to kiss her, since he’d just planted ten kisses all over her face and finally on her lips.

  “Just don’t shoot me.”

  “I’ll try, but that’s going to depend on how much you both enjoy it,” he answered, laughing.

  “Hey Lyzee,” he yelled and waited for her to wander back into the room with a bottle of water.

  “Yes?”

  Callen crossed to his brother’s wife, grabbed her by the waist, careful to not jostle her or the baby, dipped her low and looked into her eyes. “You saved my ass with granddad. He gave me his blessing, and I owe you this.” And then he kissed her, slow and gently. His heart ached in his chest at the tenderness of the entire action. It was filled with everything in him.

  Blackhawk laughed from the couch. “I decided that you’re dead when you’re finished because you’re obviously enjoying it.”