Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2))

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Were they Natives?” he asked, angrily.

  “Some,” he answered. “They weren’t the only ones killed, Chet, and we have to work both sides of this, the Rez and then the outside world.”

  Elizabeth hung up the phone. The sheriff wasn’t available today. It was funny, she didn’t think he was that busy of a man. She did get to speak to a Deputy Mason, and she asked him if he could run the reports for them for pick up tomorrow. He seemed more than pleasant, and she couldn’t help but be grateful that someone wasn’t in a snit today and willing to help out. Getting the sheriff’s department to help would cut down on some man hours that they were burning on the simple searches.

  When she hung up the phone, she just patiently sat and watched the interaction between Whitefox and the man. Sometimes it was best she didn’t say anything, she just let her brother-in-law handle it. After all, Elizabeth knew when she was out of her element. The reservation, or Rez, as he called it was a whole new world. Just because her husband was part Native, people there weren’t going to play nice with her. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t play nice either. It was best to just sit and observe.

  “I’m looking for Wyler have you seen him?”

  “No, he may be out on one of his hunting trips. I’d check out at his house or the bar. After that who knows, and your guess is as good as anyone else’s.”

  “Thanks Chet. Call me if anything happens. I’m escorting the FBI all day today until Ethan is free.”

  The man nodded and ignored the woman.

  Elizabeth Blackhawk could tell there was no love lost there.

  As they pulled away, he looked over at her. “Far be it for me to tell you what to do, but I need you to abide by a big rule while you're here on the reservation.”

  Elizabeth almost laughed until she realized he was dead serious. “Okay, what Callen?”

  “Don’t go anywhere alone. Right now, the Natives, so to speak, are restless and sometimes mob mentality prevails. I don’t want to see you get hurt or anyone else in a stupid incident.”

  “Okay,” she said waiting.

  “That’s it? You're not going to protest?” he asked, pulling up to his father’s house.

  “Nope, this place is foreign to me and if you think it’s best that I don’t wander on it alone, I’ll listen.”

  Whitefox smiled. “That was easy.”

  Just then her cell phone rang. “It’s Ethan,” she said, deciding to not punish him and answer it.

  “Director Blackhawk,” she said calmly, nothing showing in her voice.

  “Elizabeth, where are you?” Blackhawk was sure he sounded hysterical, or damn near close to it at that point.

  “Ethan, I told you that we had things to do today. I’m sitting outside your father’s house about to get his prints. I was planning on heading to Black Falls, but the sheriff isn’t available to see me. One of his deputies is running the missing persons reports for us. We can pick them up tomorrow at our convenience.”

  The silence was deafening.

  “Are you alone?” he questioned, as he held his fear in check. Blackhawk knew he had to stop treating her like she was a wounded child and trust her ability as an agent. Elizabeth had after all, fought her brother hand to hand, wounded and still won. Elizabeth could take care of herself- he hoped.

  “No, I’m with Callen.”

  Whitefox lifted a brow, wondering how that sentence alone was going to work with Ethan and his anger. He hoped it wasn’t a catalyst to the colossal explosion of anger now directed at him.

  “Please stick with him okay? What’s your game plan after you visit Wyler?”

  Elizabeth was expecting an explosion and realized the rational man had returned and was back in control for the moment. Or at least he was trying to be in control on the phone.

  “I’ll head back to base. I want to push the techs a little harder and see what they can dig up.”

  “Can I talk to my brother for a minute?” He wanted to make sure his wife was safe and protected. There were only two people on the reservation that he trusted- his grandfather or brother.

  “Sure,” she replied and handed Whitefox the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, Ethan?” He didn’t know what to expect.

  “Please keep her safe and don’t leave her side. I’ll wait here for you both. Don’t let Wyler get too close to her. I don’t want him near my family.”

  “She’s safe, Ethan. I won’t let anything happen to her. Don’t forget that she’s my family now too, I’ll protect her and the baby.”

  “Thank you,” he said, then ended the call.

  Elizabeth opened the truck door, sliding the phone into her pocket. “He didn’t yell did he?”

  “No, he’s meeting you back at your office.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Well, this is your show, Callen. I’m just here for the prints and to make sure we keep chain of evidence completely clean. I’ll follow and you lead.”

  Callen nodded, and started down the drive to his father’s tiny cabin. It had been quite a few months since he’d been here. The last time wasn’t a social call, he had brought his drunken father home after a bar brawl. Come to think of it, all his visits here involved violence, drunken behavior, and general mayhem. He couldn’t think of one single happy visit. It just was another disappointment in a long line of wasted moments with the man he just couldn’t call dad. Knocking on the door, he stepped back fully expecting a drunken Wyler to stumble to the door. When it opened he had to admit, it was surprising.

  “What can I do for you Callen?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the woman beside his son.

  “Wyler, we’re here because the FBI needs your finger prints. You touched that card on my porch and it’s part of the investigation, and now we need to exclude you for the record.”

  The man stepped back into his house, holding the door open. “Okay, both of you please come on in and make yourselves comfortable.”

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she expected, but the house was sparse and orderly. She knew the men had issues with their father. Ethan and Callen had been abandoned early in their lives, and the resentment was still fresh like a new wound. Some damage just never healed, unless there was time.

  The minute she saw Wyler Blackhawk, it squeezed her heart. He was an older version of her husband. It was the same black hair and the dark eyes. Ethan’s were dark blue, like a raven’s wings and his father’s eyes were pure black. Same skin tone and same build. Deep down, she wished her husband could have a better relationship with the man that stood before her. Even when she wanted to say something, she kept her mouth shut, just silently observing the man that had created her husband.

  So, this is what Ethan Blackhawk would look like in twenty years. Her husband was destined to always be handsome.

  “Are you my son’s wife?” he asked, as he led them to his little kitchen table. He probably shouldn’t have asked, but he was curious. The woman that stood in his kitchen was taller than all of the women on the reservation, and she wore scuffed up cowboy boots, a gun on her hip and no emotion on her face. The rumors were right, Mrs. Ethan Blackhawk was gorgeous, and she had an underlying sense of toughness. He wasn’t surprised that this was the woman his son had chosen as a wife. His boy was a handsome man, and she suited him, or what he remembered of his boy. Then again it’d been a long time.

  “Yes, I’m Ethan’s wife. I’m Elizabeth.” She held out her hand to shake his out of courtesy for the man, and the job she had to take care of while there. “I need to take your prints now, Mr. Blackhawk.”

  He nodded and sat. “Would you both like a drink?” he offered hospitably.

  “We’re working, we can’t be drinking,” added Whitefox bitterly.

  “I meant coffee or tea, Callen. Nothing more,” he answered, simply.

  Elizabeth noticed the older man flinch at the implication and harshness. “No thank you, sir, but thank you for the offer.” Whitefox had warned her not to stir up the Natives, but he seeme
d to be doing just that himself. There was no doubt her role was going to be peace keeper.

  “I gave up alcohol, Callen. I’ve been sober for eight days now.”

  Elizabeth dropped the kit on the table and pulled out the little electronic reader that would scan his finger prints, and the ink blotter for the backup copy.

  Whitefox just nodded and remembered seeing his father go ‘sober’ before, and it never ended well. It always ended with a big binge where someone got into a fight, and almost beat the hell out of him. Something in him didn’t want to admit he feared the next time and the idea the old man might get himself killed. It would break his grandfather’s heart.

  Wyler turned his hand, taking Elizabeth’s in his as he touched the ring on her finger. “That’s my wife’s wedding ring.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “The night Ethan proposed he gave it to me,” she confirmed.

  “I’m glad he kept it. I figured it had been lost all these years. She loved that ring when I gave it to her.”

  “I bet she did. It’s the only ring I wear, and I promise I’ll cherish it.” Elizabeth knew the history, but she couldn’t help feeling for the man. He’d lost everything, and the pain had to be excruciating. She tried to cheer him up. “I saw the totem at Timothy’s home. Ethan told me you made it, and it’s beautiful,” she said, trying to relax the man and change the subject. She hated to see anyone judged on their past. She remembered what it was like to be there and live it.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth. I made it for my father a long time ago when the boys were both young, right after they found their spirit guides. Ethan is the black raven, Callen is the fox and my father is the bear, who watches over them.”

  Elizabeth watched the man’s face, much like her husband there was no emotion there. She was sure that underneath he was being overwhelmed. “It’s beautiful, and you do amazing work.” She continued to do his prints. “I see you like to hunt,” she said, noticing all the furs and animal skulls.

  “Yes, I go out often. There’s nothing like fresh venison.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had it,” she said, finishing one hand and switching to the other.

  Wyler could feel the kindness in this one woman, despite what she must have heard from his sons. There was no hate and, she wasn’t treating him like he probably deserved. “Can you get Ethan to visit me? I’ll make you some venison,” he inquired, hopefully.

  Whitefox tensed at the request. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the man using Elizabeth to get to Ethan, and if his brother found out he was going to be angry. There was no gray area with Wyler Blackhawk. That line had been drawn years ago, and both brothers were firm believers in not crossing it for any reason. The man made his choice when he abandoned each one of them.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Blackhawk, but I can’t do that. I can mention to him that you asked, but I’m not going to use my relationship with Ethan to get him to see you. What’s between you three has to be worked out between you. I won’t step in where it’s not my business, and anything that happened before I married your son isn’t my place to interfere. I hope you understand.”

  Whitefox let out the breath he was holding, and he was profoundly grateful for her answer.

  “I understand, Elizabeth.” His voice was filled with sadness.

  Elizabeth looked around as she did the last print. “What do you use to hunt?” she asked out of sheer curiosity.

  “My rifle or bow depending on the season and prey.”

  Elizabeth closed up her kit and thanked the man, patting him gently on the shoulder.

  “Wyler, thank you for your cooperation and not making this a miserable job,” Whitefox moved towards the door. He held it open for Elizabeth, and put his hand protectively on her back, his eyes meeting his father’s. It was a silent message that she was off limits, and both brothers meant it and would enforce it.

  Wyler nodded and felt bereft as the woman left. He couldn’t help but think how lucky his son was to have her in his life. If he could turn back time, and go back to the days before he betrayed his wife he would. Once, he had that kind of love too, and lost it because he didn’t think with his brain. All he could hope was his son was smarter than his old man. Over by the fireplace he took his spot, grabbing a log and his knife; he suddenly was inspired to carve something for the woman he just met. Maybe his father would let him add it to the totem in front of his house. Somehow it felt right.

  Back in the truck, Whitefox spoke. “Thank you for not telling him you’d help him get to Ethan.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I understand you both have tense relationships with him, and Ethan refuses to see him. I’m not getting involved and forcing him to see a man he doesn’t want to have a relationship with because, like I said, it isn’t my business.”

  “Ready to head back in?” he asked, dropping his sunglasses into place and tucking his hair behind his ear.

  “I’m ready. I want the techs to get the prints,” she answered. “You know you both are a lot alike,” she said finally. “I would even say that you're more alike than different. The more time I spend with you the more it becomes obvious.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?” he asked, grinning.

  Elizabeth recognized the grin that made her fall in love with her husband. “I married him, didn’t I?” she said laughing.

  Whitefox really had it bad.

  She was everything he wanted in his own choice of women, and she was also married to his brother. Being inches from her was sheer hell. Never had he felt this way before about any one else.

  Terrific.

  “We spent a lot of time together growing up, until he went to the foster homes,” he said, trying to refocus on his brother and not the woman sitting beside him.

  Elizabeth heard the pain in his voice. “So, you have a tattoo of a fox?” she asked, curiosity finally got to her. It probably wasn’t any of her business but she just wanted to see it.

  “Yeah, across my stomach,” he lifted his shirt to show her. “We got drunk and got them one night when we snuck off the reservation. That was the angriest we’ve ever seen granddad.”

  Elizabeth admired the tattoo and it was hard to not notice the well-defined abs too. The fox was brown and white, and it looked like it was ready to attack. “Definitely bad ass,” she said laughing.

  “Ethan has more than I do. He wins the award for tough. I only have five or six, but he liked the ink when we were young. Every other week, he was getting a tattoo. As soon as he got paid, off he’d go.”

  “I only have one, and that’s it,” she added nonchalantly.

  “Really? What did you have? Wait, let me guess. A flower or a butterfly like every other woman on the planet,” he snickered, teasing her.

  “Nope, I have Ethan’s full name across my whole back.”

  Whitefox snorted. “You know the first rule is to never get anyone’s name or initials on your body. Only crazy people go there and do that.”

  Elizabeth laughed at that. “Yeah, so I’ve been told, and that should tell you everything you need to know about me.”

  Elizabeth Blackhawk was right, it spoke volumes.

  Friday afternoon

  Elizabeth was hungry and decided to take her time getting back to the office, grabbing some food for herself and Baby Blackhawk. Breakfast had been rushed, as she forced food in just to eat. Lunch was going to be a different story, and it was going to be enjoyable. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew her husband would be pacing and waiting for her to return, but she was going to take her one hour regardless. If Whitefox didn’t want to join her, she would have done it alone. For right now she wanted food and to stop for a few minutes.

  When she suggested lunch, her brother-in-law smiled and was more than willing to grab something to eat with her. They stopped not far from FBI West and got burgers. After eating hers and enjoying pleasant conversation with Whitefox, she was in a far better mood. Callen was easy going and made her laugh.

  Despite his p
issy behavior earlier, Elizabeth ordered her husband lunch. She knew he wouldn’t eat until she returned and that made her worry about him. He’d skipped breakfast in anger and now lunch. Even though she was upset with him she still felt protective, needing to take care of him.

  After leaving from lunch, Callen Whitefox dropped his sister-in-law at the office, watching her enter FBI West to assure her safe arrival. After a quick text to his brother, to let him know she was now back, he pulled away.

  Elizabeth was now his brother’s responsibility.

  He needed to get back to his own office and work on some other things that needed his attention. There was payroll and reports he had to sign off on before the end of the day. Somewhere inside him, he felt regret at leaving the big building. As he glanced up in his rearview mirror, and replayed the afternoon’s events in his mind. Spending time with his sister-in-law was way too enjoyable.

  Now his truck smelled like her perfume.

  God, being in love was a total bitch.

  As Blackhawk met her in the lobby, he was pretty sure that his face revealed everything he was feeling. The tension was there and around his mouth, a clear indicator of how much stress was crushing him. Once he saw his wife his heart unclenched, and he felt more at ease. At least she was back and safe.

  “Hello Ethan,” she said, walking past him to her own office. All she wanted was his apology, and then they could move on to work related issues. They needed to swing down to the lab and discuss the evidence they passed off to Christina today.

  Blackhawk followed her and closed her door, locking it behind them. “Elizabeth,” he said softly, as he walked over to her and touched her cheek. He was unsure how to begin to apologize for how he behaved and made her feel. As he revisited the horrible things he said, he wouldn’t blame her for hating him.

  “Yes, Ethan?” She looked up into his face and she couldn’t let him hurt anymore. She placed her hand on his cheek and ran the pad of her thumb over his lower lip, knowing it gave him comfort.