“Are we discussing you making coffee, or you being here over night?”
When he woke up, it occurred to him that maybe she wouldn’t be comfortable with him being in her home. After all, she had a right to be wary of her husband’s family even though she welcomed him the night before. Part of him wanted to escape early, but with the alarm on the door he was trapped.
“Both.”
Elizabeth took a sip of coffee and scrutinized the man in front of her. He had some deep wounds too, just like her husband. They were evident and proof that both men had a rough childhood where they were abandoned and felt unlovable. Elizabeth felt the overwhelming need to protect him too, and fix his heart. “I enjoy that I didn’t have to make the coffee, and as for you being here it’s going to depend on the answer to one question.”
“Okay Lyzee.” He tried out her nickname again to test the water, and if she really cared if he used it.
“Are you going to hurt him again?”
“Never.”
“Then I don’t mind if you stay here, come here, sleep here, or eat here. He deserves a decent relationship with his family, and I’m not going to hinder that, ever. But if you hurt him, they won’t be able to find enough of you to put you back together. Clear?”
Whitefox watched her eyes. She was dead serious, and he was glad she was part of their family. Elizabeth Blackhawk would keep his brother safe. That kind of loyalty was a valuable thing.
“Crystal clear, ma’am,” he said, grinning at her.
“Now, do you want some breakfast?”
“Wow, you're going to make me breakfast too?” Shit, how was he supposed to get over her, if she cooked for him too?
“Yes I am and your brother too, if he ever wakes up. Besides, we can get to know each other while we cook.”
We cook?” he laughed. “You want to die, or is this some sick test to see how tough I am?”
Elizabeth laughed and tossed him an apron. “Suit up, Mr. Whitefox.”
“An apron?” Now he was laughing at the entire situation, but oddly he couldn’t refuse. Whitefox was pretty sure most people didn’t say no to Elizabeth Blackhawk. He watched her pull out a waffle iron. “We get waffles?”
“Don’t like them?” she inquired, pausing.
“I love them. I just don’t think I’ve had real waffles since I was living at home with my mom. One day she felt maternal.” There was so much pain in those words, he only hoped he managed to make it sound blasé and not pathetic.
Elizabeth looked over at him. “It had to be tough on both you and Ethan, losing your moms.” Sadly, she knew how it felt and there was no feeling quite like it.
Whitefox shrugged, trying to not let more emotion free. “She was young when she had me. Wyler liked them young.” It was said with definite animosity. The anger helped push down the pain. “Being a kid herself, after a while the responsibility got to her. Granddad stepped in and took over when he noticed there was neglect. When she died, he kept me even though he didn’t have to do it. I wasn’t his obligation.”
“When you lose a parent it leaves a void.”
“Are your parents alive?” he asked, wondering if she really understood.
Elizabeth measured out the ingredients for the waffles. “No, my mom and I were in a car accident when I was ten. We were headed to my soccer game, and a truck crossed the median and hit us head on. I don’t remember much of the accident; I guess that’s probably a good thing.”
“I’m sorry.” Whitefox wished he didn’t bring it up.
“Then my dad became both my parents. He packed us up and moved us to Salem, and he became the sheriff of the town. I went off to the FBI and to start my life, and then he was murdered.”
“Lyzee, I’m so sorry.” He found himself placing his hand on her shoulder in support. When she placed her hand over his, he felt his heart skip.
“Wounds heal, Callen. I found him justice and that’s what matters in my heart. I came back and took over his job as sheriff. It brought Ethan into my life. Fate is funny. If bad doesn’t happen, then good can’t either. I firmly believe that.”
“Ethan told me you both nearly died on that assignment.”
Elizabeth faced him. “Yeah, it was pretty ugly, especially for my step-mother and half-brother.”
“Were they the ones that killed your dad?”
She stirred the batter. “Yeah.”
“Are they in jail?” Right then he would have tracked them down for her if they weren’t.
“No, Ethan killed my step-mother after she shot us both, and I beat the hell out of my half-brother to keep him from killing Ethan. He has brain damage and is pretty much dead to the world. He just sits around staring now.”
Whitefox didn’t know what to say. “You literally beat the hell out of him?”
Elizabeth laughed at the look of horror on his face. “Yeah, he was going to hang a man and kill Ethan. He’s lucky I was shot and only had use of one arm, or I would have probably killed him.” She wasn’t ashamed to say it. It was truth. “But his mother shot me in the shoulder,” she turned and pulled her sleeve up to show him the scars. “One was from a drive by shooting when I was in the FBI, and the other my step-mother.”
“Ethan was shot too?”
“We have matching gunshot wounds,” he answered from the doorway of the kitchen. He’d come down earlier and heard them talking. It touched his heart that this woman of his had so easily accepted his brother, and she was making him feel welcome in their home. He had planned on being awake first, so he could warn her that his brother was there, but exhaustion won out.
“Hey Cowboy,” Elizabeth crossed to her husband, and gave him a kiss. “Sorry I didn’t wake you, but you looked really peaceful. I figured today was going to be a long one, and you deserved some sleep.”
He kissed his wife and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Morning Callen, you sleep okay?”
“I’ll survive.”
“Dreams?”
Whitefox nodded. “Yeah the same ones and it’s getting old.”
Elizabeth went back to making the waffles, pouring batter into the waffle iron, and waiting for them to cook. When her husband came over and pulled the apron off her waist she didn’t know what was happening.
“I promised I’d make breakfast for you when you were having our kids, so go sit,” he ordered, and patted her on the ass.
She smirked and pointed at him before continuing, “I’ll suck up that condescending ass pat only because your child and I are hungry. Don’t forget it,” she stuck out her tongue.
Both men laughed at her.
“Callen, what kind of dreams?” she took her coffee and went to sit on a stool to watch the men in aprons making her breakfast. It occurred to her that having family was a nice thing.
“It’s the same one; I’m in this forest, standing in a circle, and all around me are these women tied to the trees. Arrows are sticking out of their bodies. One in each woman, and they’re begging me to help them and I just stand there watching.”
“Is there anything different in the dreams?”
Whitefox pulled dishes out of the cabinet as instructed. “No, not that I can tell.”
Elizabeth stood to go get the paper. “If they change, maybe you should write down as many details as possible. I don’t discount the power of dreams and the mind.”
Elizabeth turned off the code to the alarm and opened the door to get the paper. As she bent down she froze, seeing something that disturbed her. “Ethan, come quick.” She reached into her bag sitting by the door for a tissue.
He practically ran at the tone of her voice.
“Look,” she pointed at the feathers on the porch and the laminated note she held in the tissue. “We had company last night.”
Blackhawk stared down at the feathers the rage filling him. The killer had found their house. “We had to be followed, because you can’t just Google us online to find us. That bastard was outside our home!” His body shook, and he was overwh
elmed with the need to beat something into oblivion. A dark haze covered his vision and almost erupted from him in a wave, as he now comprehended the likelihood that the killer could now reach his family. This had been his greatest fear when he became an FBI agent. If he had a life outside work would it be at risk due to his career choice?
Elizabeth walked the laminated card to the kitchen counter. “Callen, in that drawer are the bags can you pull one out?” Elizabeth waited and then dropped the card into the bag. She sealed it and then took the time to read the back. On the front, much like Whitefox’s, was a picture. This time a black raven was inked on one side and on the other, printed meticulously was:
Prodigal first son and his beautiful wife
“This is very personal,” she said, looking up at both men. Her husband dropped the black and white feathers into another bag. The look of anger on his face said it all, and it had her worried. Her husband was notoriously calm, but now he looked to be close to the edge.
“First the second son, and then the first son, it looks like someone is trying to tell us something about you both,” she added.
“I don’t see how any dead pregnant women could possibly relate to us,” added Whitefox. “Then toss in the feathers.”
Elizabeth sat on the stool and looked at both men. “Well, you both were accused of getting a woman pregnant.”
Blackhawk tensed at the idea that this was tied to his past.
“You’re the raven,” she said, pointing at her husband, “and you’re the fox,” she pointed at her brother- in-law.
“Don’t forget, you’re the beautiful wife. You’re now part of this too,” added Blackhawk angrily.
“I don’t get it; these were just nicknames as kids, and they mean nothing now.”
Elizabeth nodded in agreement. “To you both, yes, but to the killer he’s got his undies in a bunch over it. Something about you, your nicknames, your birth order, and your tattoos has him all stirred up. I’m not saying he started killing because of you both, but he’s looking for an audience, and it appears we’re it. All three of us are now his focus.”
“We can’t let your pregnancy get out,” Blackhawk snapped abruptly. “Callen, call grandfather, and tell him that I need him to call me later today, and to keep his dream about Elizabeth being pregnant quiet. Tell him I think it’s going to risk her life.”
Elizabeth put her hand over her husband’s tattoo, and rubbed it reassuringly. “We’ll figure this out, and I’ll be fine.”
The rage was still there. “I’m not hungry. I’ll get ready for work,” Blackhawk walked from his family, forgetting his promise to make her breakfast.
“Come on Callen. Let’s have something to eat and call your grandfather. It’s going to be a long day for all three of us. We better fuel up before we head into FBI West.” Elizabeth ignored the hurt she felt over him forgetting his promise.
Whitefox couldn’t help but wonder if their stupidity in their youth had somehow started all of this killing. He knew they needed to do something to take care of it and fast. Before someone they loved paid with their life.
Like Elizabeth Blackhawk and her unborn child.
Ethan Blackhawk instructed his brother to meet him at FBI West as soon as his own work load was handled. The drive into work with his wife was done in complete silence. Being so close to the edge with his temper, it worried him that he may slip, and take it out on her. Deciding to say nothing at all to her just seemed a better option at the time. Apparently, that was fine with Elizabeth.
She sat beside him, working on her smartphone and tablet, and she didn’t try to initiate conversation at all. Essentially, she was ignoring him, and Blackhawk found that annoyed him too. Granted, she was probably aware that he was over the edge and angry. Any conversation would be detrimental to their relationship, but he really could have used her calm reassurance at that moment. Part of him was feeling incredibly guilty that he was letting the anger build between them, he just couldn’t get it under control. Fear was in charge now, and it had him by the throat, squeezing him tight.
Parking in the garage, Blackhawk retrieved his bag and his papers from the back seat of her jeep and continued into the elevator. More silence enveloped them. Blackhawk didn’t know how to stop the wall from building between them. All he wanted was for her to stay off this assignment. It was her stubbornness that was keeping her from seeing she was in danger. Ethan Blackhawk wanted to keep his wife and child safe from the killer, and she was making it harder than it had to be. Why didn’t she see that?
Once inside their lobby, Ginny was waiting for them.
“Mr. B, you have calls from the ME, the anthropologist, and then Christina in the lab. They need your attention ASAP. I also dropped the approved personnel files on your desk, and they need your signature. Mrs. B already signed off on them yesterday. If you want the personnel transferred you need to take care of it immediately, so I can submit the paperwork.”
She turned towards Elizabeth.
“Mrs. B, you had two calls from Gabe Rothschild. I tagged them as urgent and you need to get back to him immediately. You have three psych evaluations on your desk waiting for your signature on the three new agents. Mr. B already approved them. You had a call from a Timothy Blackhawk, and I’m assuming he’s a relative; his message is on your desk, along with a number to return his call.”
At his grandfather’s name he turned and anger flashed in his eyes. There was no reason his grandfather should be contacting her and not him.
“You also have a meeting with six more techs for tomorrow. Do you want me to confirm or cancel?”
“Call down to the lab and have Christina come up to my office immediately. Please specify that she is to meet with me, not him.” She jerked her thumb at her husband. “Then confirm them please.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I’ll be in my office, Ginny. When Mr. Whitefox arrives buzz me, and until then I don’t wish to be disturbed.” With that she turned, leaving her husband to stand there seething from his anger. Elizabeth wanted to slam her door, but she didn’t want to prove that husbands and wives couldn’t work together. Being petty almost won out for that brief second, but the satisfaction wouldn’t be worth it in the long run. They were the bosses, and they didn’t need their emotional baggage being left in the workplace. She loved her husband, but there were days…
Christina didn’t think of herself as timid or nervous around people, but whenever she had to face Elizabeth Blackhawk in a meeting, she was scared shitless. Maybe it was because the woman knew she was checking out her husband. One way or another, being summoned up to her office was very intimidating.
As she knocked on Elizabeth Blackhawks door, her heart was pounding in her chest, and she hoped the woman couldn’t smell her fear. Ethan Blackhawk was usually her point of contact, not her, and that was exactly how she liked it. Yeah, she had a crush on her boss, but she’d never try anything stupid. He was just really great to look at and a good guy to work for as a tech. She tried not to stare and drool, but come on. Ethan Blackhawk was definitely a distraction in the workplace.
“Come in,” was the reply.
“Director Blackhawk, you wanted to see me?” she asked, praying the nervousness didn’t sound in her voice.
Elizabeth could sense the fear a mile away. If she wasn’t so pissed and riled up this morning she would have been entertained by the entire situation. “Yeah, I have some things I need to discuss with you.”
“Okay, what do you need to discuss?”
Elizabeth opened her desk, pulling out the two feathers and the bag with the laminated card. “I need these analyzed. They showed up on my front porch this morning. Find me something on them and do it fast.”
Christina was relieved that it had nothing to do with her husband. “Absolutely, Director Blackhawk and I’ll work on it immediately,” she took the bag from her boss and was ready to escape.
“You can call me Elizabeth in the office. I don’t generally bite, and I don
’t beat the hell out of women that check out my husband, unless they make a move on him.” She let it hang between them, as she watched her with icy blue eyes.
She swallowed and apparently it was blatantly obvious. “Ma’am, I’m…”
“Christina, you’re good at your job, and I appreciate the male form as much as the next girl. As long as it doesn’t interfere with work I’m not going to get pissy. The minute it starts to reflect in your work, or you think you can take a shot at him, then we’re going to have a huge problem. Let’s consider this little chat off the record and between two girls- Ethan’s wife and his favorite lab tech.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she squeaked, believing the woman would do it. She heard about the fight in Salem and how she nearly killed her own brother. Elizabeth Blackhawk wasn’t to be screwed with, ever.
“I have one last thing for you to handle.” Elizabeth almost laughed. She’d played boss long enough to know how to deal with people. By pointing out that she was aware of the woman’s obsession, it would nip it in the bud. “I have six techs coming tomorrow for interviews for the lab. They can hand me their resumes written in Greek, and I’m not going to know if they’re good or not. I need you to meet with them and pick four of the six. I want the cream of the crop, if you will.”
Christina was genuinely surprised that she was giving her a job with that kind of responsibility. “You want me to interview them?”
Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “Is that something you feel you aren’t interested in doing? I can always ask Doctor Leonard to take care of it for me instead.”
“No! I just didn’t expect you to trust me to staff the lab.”
“You know the kind of personnel that need to be down there and I don’t. We didn’t hire you, Christina. But someone found us a real gem, and we value you. When you moved here with us to work here we were thrilled. We don’t trust anyone’s judgment but yours on the staff to run our lab.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll hire me four techs, and I don’t have to think about it until I sign off on the paperwork Monday.”
Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) Page 17
