They both laughed, thinking she was yanking their chains.
“I’m serious.”
They laughed even more.
That was the funniest thing they’d ever heard in their lives. There was no way that was happening.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“If you roll up on him, they’ll scatter, Elizabeth,” stated Glen. “You’re smart, and you know you can’t even go there.”
“Do you have a vice team embedded with the hookers?” she asked.
They both clammed up, and that told her everything she needed to know.
“Spill it.”
“Elizabeth,” Glen stated.
“I need in, and you two are my way onto the street. Do you, or do you not, have girls undercover in his presence?”
“Yeah, we have a couple of girls that are doing the stroll. We give them cash at the end of the night, and he thinks they’re out trolling.”
“Can you get me in for one night? That’s all I need. I just need to ask about the three dead women. Maybe the pimp hurt them, or maybe there was a John who scared them.”
“Elizabeth,” Kaleb stated, “we’ve worked a year to get our girls in. If we let you in and you blow it, our boss is going to make our heads roll. We’ll both be looking for new gigs after that. This is one hell of a huge favor.”
“I’ll pay you back, guys. You know me. Even if it’s twenty years from now and in a different city, I’ll keep my word. I’ll owe you one, and all you have to do is call it in and I’m there.”
They knew how big it was to get a favor from a Fed. They could cash that ticket in any time, and she’d own them a huge one.
Still, they hesitated.
“Do you want me to get Gabriel Rothschild to make the call?” she asked. “You know he’ll get me in, and then your bosses will be pissed. All I’m asking is that you slip me in without making a big stink over it. Have her say I’m a newbie who runs her own shop, and I’m looking for a daddy.”
Kaleb leaned back. “Can you play hooker?”
She snorted. “Well, I did have sex with you, so…”
Glen laughed over that one.
“Keep it up, chuckles. We rolled around, too, and I should have charged you for that performance. You were smiling for a week.”
He gave her a fist bump. “Truth. You are a dirty girl in the sack. Marry me?”
She laughed again. “Uh, no way.” Elizabeth got serious. “Come on, boys. Help a girl out. I have to get the DL on the dead women. I’m working this one alone. I need backup.”
Both men looked at each other.
Kaleb shrugged. This was going to be up to Glen. He’d been working on getting his team in place for a long time. It had been three months to get a cop on the inside of Clayton Frost’s circle.
“If you find anything, you’ll tell us, right? I need to be kept in the loop. I have to answer to my boss,” Glen stated.
“Deal.” She offered him her hand.
They shook.
“What do I have to do?” she asked.
“Be at Vine and Westminster by nine, and look like a freaking hooker. I hope you clean up better than this,” Kaleb teased.
She looked down at her boots, jeans, and blazer.
“Can I borrow your momma’s Sunday clothes?” she asked, giving him the drawl. “That should help me out.”
He gave her a fist bump. “LaRue, you’re a total bitch, and the world needs more like you.”
Oh, she was aware.
In her life, that was the only way to roll.
Chapter Four
Thursday Morning
Damascus
The Rez
H e was nervous as hell.
Ethan Blackhawk didn’t want to do this. In fact, coming back was a mistake. His gut was churning, his head was pounding, and his heart…it was thumping in his chest.
He could face down a room full of killers, but a bunch of Natives who would know his name?
It scared him.
He was a Blackhawk, and in this neck of the woods, people knew your name. He’d been sired on this Rez, and he’d left his mark.
None of it was good.
He’d stolen cars.
He’d snuck into the bedrooms of many Native women to score.
He’d gotten into a hell of a fistfight more times than he could count.
Blackhawk had done time.
When his grandfather hadn’t been able to handle him anymore, Child Protective Services took him away. They put him in a shitty foster home where he was miserable.
Okay.
It wasn’t shitty.
It was actually a nice family who was looking to adopt a kid at some point. When they got an Indian, they took care of him, but didn’t want to keep him long term.
That was fine with him.
He was nearly eighteen, and he had to go back for his brother and grandfather. At that time, he loved them.
Well, he still loved Timothy.
His half-brother?
Fuck him.
They weren’t on speaking terms, and that was never going to change—not as long as he was still breathing.
Now that he was coming back, all the old demons would be there, and he’d be helpless to stop them. Once in that room, he knew what everyone would be thinking about him and his past.
The prodigal son had returned, and he’d made nothing of himself. He was simply the drone of the white man, and he’d sold out. FBI and Natives were not something that ever mixed well.
Pine Ridge.
Wounded Knee.
Yeah, this was going to suck.
Well, at least he wouldn’t have to come face to face with his family. He hated his father, loathed his brother, and his grandfather made him feel horrible. He’d left the sweet old man behind, and he’d always carry that shame.
Ethan wanted to get this over with, and fast.
Opening the door, he stepped into the reservation police station. He remembered it well. He’d done time in that small space until his grandfather had picked him up.
Hell!
He’d called the cops on him.
The irony wasn’t lost on Ethan. This was funny as hell that he was back to solve their issues.
“I’m here to see the chief of police and the council,” he said to the Native woman behind the desk.
She stared openmouthed at him.
Yeah, she recognized him.
Ethan flipped out his badge. “I’m with the FBI now. They sent me.”
Clearly, the news of his return would spread like wildfire, and he didn’t give a shit. At least he’d escaped that madness.
He’d made it out alive.
Ethan had a nice home, a great job, a sleek car, and he’d gotten away from the Rez.
The joke was on them.
“They’re in the room over there, Agent Blackhawk.”
“Thanks.”
Ethan knew when she picked up the phone it had nothing to do with answering a call. She was going to send out the word at what she’d just seen.
A ghost.
He was nothing more than someone who once haunted the Rez, left in a hurry, and was now back.
Son of a bitch!
He swore he’d never do that too.
Ethan wished he’d made Jay come with him. If he did, he’d at least have backup to this. Suddenly, he felt alone.
Very alone.
At the door, he knocked.
“Come in.”
Entering the room, he saw the chief of police not far from where he stood. “I’m Special Agent Ethan Blackhawk. The FBI sent me to help you…”
As he scanned the room, he saw him.
Jesus.
This was the worst thing ever.
While Ethan assumed his grandfather might be there, he wasn’t. It was worse.
It was his brother.
Callen Whitefox.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
He turned on his heel, despite the surprised looks, an
d headed out in the hall. Pulling out his cell, he called his partner. “You have to get here and handle this. I have a conflict of interest. I have to leave.”
Jay didn’t argue.
Ethan was grateful.
As he was walking out to his rental, he could hear the footsteps behind him. The telltale gait of cowboy boots hitting concrete reminded him of the times they’d run for their lives—but together.
Callen had always been at his side. He’d always been his partner in crime, and now he was just a bad memory, the betrayal in his past, and blood he wanted nothing more to do with in his life.
That part was done.
Still, he knew what was coming.
It looked like he’d actually have to talk to his half-brother. The day was getting worse and worse.
“Ethan!”
He couldn’t turn around. His stomach rolled with the sickness of what he was about to face. Here was his past.
Here was the man who made his life hell and made him leave his home. Before that day, he’d been happy. He’d been content.
Ethan had his family.
Now, because of his brother, he had no one. He was all alone in a world of people, and this man was the reason. Ethan knew Timothy wouldn’t boot the man out, so he had to go.
Callen had always been Timothy’s favorite, and Ethan couldn’t let that go either. Why?
He didn’t have a clue. In fact, he didn’t want to know. Screw it. He didn’t want to know anything about this man.
“Please!”
He went to get into the car, but his brother grabbed his arm. It took everything he had not to punch him in the face. Only, if he did, he’d lose his job. Gabe would fire him in a heartbeat.
“We need to talk.”
Ethan spun around and stared at him. Callen had changed so much. He’d gotten bulkier. He’d started growing his hair out. It hung long down his shoulders in silky brown strands.
His brown eyes were filled with such sorrow. There was pain there—pain that he deserved to have.
It pissed him off even more.
He had no right to be sad. He’d caused this. He’d made this mess with one treacherous act against his blood.
“Ethan. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to look this man in the face and see his past.
“You destroyed us, Callen. You chose a woman over your own blood. When you had no one, I was there. I fought for you. I went to jail to keep you safe. I was taken away and I came back, and you betrayed me.”
“I made a mistake, Ethan. I made a horrible mistake, and I regret it. I miss you. Timothy misses you. I need you to forgive me.”
“I’ll never forgive you. You betrayed me. I was your brother, and you betrayed me.”
“You’re still my brother,” Callen said, standing there in his deputy uniform. “You can’t change that. We share something important.”
He laughed. “We did. We were once as thick as thieves, Callen. Now, you’re dead to me. You are nothing to me, like I was nothing to you when you chose sex over my heart.”
Callen wanted to be sick. “Ethan. Please. I can’t do this without my brother. I need you. There’s so much you don’t know about what I face every day. I need you in my life. You were always my strength.”
He stared at him. “Never. You’re dead to me. Go back to granddad and tell him I’ll never be back. I’ll never come back to this shithole. Tell him to forget about me. You forget too, Callen. It’s better that way.”
“I can’t do that. I love you, Ethan. You’re all I have left other than Timothy.”
“You should have thought about that before you stuck your dick in my woman. She was mine, Callen. You’re just like your mother. She started this mess. That’s the only reason you’re here.”
Callen ran his fingers up and down his scarred arm. He could feel the bump of each and every burn mark, and he could recall each time her boyfriend abused him after the rape. The memories came back and they made him sick.
He’d made a mistake, and now he was paying for it for the rest of his life. He missed his brother. Callen wanted him back more than he wanted his life.
Maybe Ethan was right. He destroyed them just like Charlene had all those years ago. Maybe he should have died. It would have been so much better had he simply pulled that trigger as a child and ended his life. Ethan was right. He was the reason all of their lives sucked.
He was their sin.
“Don’t call me brother ever again.”
It hurt, but Callen had to try.
“You don’t know anything about her, Ethan. I’m nothing like her.”
“You’re a cheater who ruined a relationship. You destroyed us.”
Callen stood there. “I’m sorry. I love you, Ethan. I miss my brother. Please stay so we can fix this.”
Blackhawk got into his vehicle, locked the doors, turned on the engine, and blasted the radio to block out the words.
This part of his life was dead to him.
As he backed out and drove away, he glanced up at the man in the dust behind him.
He never wanted to see him again.
And he never would.
Callen Whitefox would never be part of his life, or his heart. He was nothing to him but a betrayer.
Ethan didn’t have time for that in his life.
He was getting out of Damascus. He never should have come back. Screw Gabe.
He knew. Ethan wished he’d sent that other agent to deal with this mess. Maybe she would have had a better time dealing with Callen Whitefox.
He couldn’t.
Worse?
Ethan had been set up, and he’d never trust Gabriel Rothschild again. When he got back to DC, he was taking a vacation. He was taking a week to regroup, hide, and lick his wounds.
He couldn’t play profiler or agent now.
He needed to forget.
And he would.
With time.
* * * E l i z a b e t h L a R u e * * *
Gabe’s Office
Hoover Building
When she strolled in, he was busy in a meeting, so she sat in his waiting area and worked. Maggie, his secretary, gave her some coffee and a few cookies.
Sometimes, it was good being in with the boss. Any other agent would be sitting there scared shitless. No one liked going to ‘The Dragon Slayer’s’ office—except her.
She loved it.
Truthfully, she’d gotten lucky.
Gabe was easy going as long as you played it right, and that was her plan. She was going to stir it up, and risk her life for her job.
She knew this wasn’t going to go over well. If she was lucky, he wouldn’t freak out too much.
That was funny.
She couldn’t wait to watch him lose it.
If there was one thing consistent about Gabriel Rothschild, it was that he didn’t like chaos. In his world, everything was plan, plan, implement, plan, and nothing more. Winging it was taboo, but that was how she ran her shop.
Since this was her case, that was her way of doing things. Yeah, Gabe was going to lose it.
This should be fun.
When the agent, who was talking to Gabe left, he appeared in his doorway. He was in a suit and tie, and it made her grin. She recalled all the cases they worked together, before he’d moved up the ladder.
He’d been worried and a nervous wreck. Now he was anything but that. Gabe was damn good at what he did, and she was proud of how far he’d come. In his late thirties, he was the youngest deputy director the FBI had ever had, and he ran it with an iron fist. There was no doubt he’d be taking over one day, and then he’d be running this cuckoo’s nest.
She was proud of him even if he had hurt her heart.
“LaRue, it’s your turn,” he said, escorting her into his inner sanctum.
After she closed the door behind him, Elizabeth took a seat on his leather couch.
Why not be comfortable for the upcoming show?
“W
hat did you do?” he asked as he sat behind his desk.
She stared at him. “What do you mean? I’m here to update you. Didn’t you ask me to do just that? I haven’t even been on this case a full day yet.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. Elizabeth. I have a shit mess out West. One of my agents, one of the best ones I have, flaked on a tribe. I’m just waiting for the second shoe to drop, and with Natives, it always does. Someone’s losing ass skin over this one. I just don’t know who it is yet.”
“Is that the other case you were going to give me?” she asked, opening her water.
“Yeah. Maybe I should have sent you. Apparently, he saw someone from his past, his brother, and flipped his shit. His partner is handling it, but at least I know you wouldn’t run from a mess. You might not play nice with the Indians, but you’re stable.”
She grinned. “It’s Native Americans. They don’t like to be called Indians. You’d better not handle any tribal relations, Gabe.”
Yeah, he was aware he wasn’t the man for the job. Add that to his list of growing issues on his shoulders.
“See? I should have sent you. At least you’re reliable.”
Oh, she absolutely was. Elizabeth used that as the foundation of her career. If you made a promise, you kept it. That’s how she rolled.
“I’m going to kick his ass when he gets back. It’s sad that some Native man freaked him out this much. I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.”
She let him vent.
With Gabe, he needed to blow off steam just like the rest of them. Besides, she didn’t want to kill him. She really just liked watching him get worked up. He was already there. Her idea might put him way over the edge.
That wouldn’t end well.
“Sorry for dumping this on you, Lyzee. I’m sure you’re busy with your case. Why don’t you tell me about your assignment?”
She did.
She gave him everything.
Then she dropped the bomb.
“I’m going undercover as a hooker. I have a few friends on Metro Vice who can get me into the flock of floozies.”
He stared at her. “I know I just heard you wrong. There is no way you told me you’re going to play hooker, and alone. That’s surely even out of your scope of crazy.”
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