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

by Kelley, Morgan

  “Please, call me Lyzee. As I told Callen, the family gets access to my nickname.”

  He leaned over and patted her cheek, it was very fatherly. “I hear, Lyzee, that you ran into my son today.”

  Both men at the table stopped moving. Apparently the old man had eyes everywhere.

  “I did, Granddad.”

  “I hope he was respectful to you. Wyler has been known in his past to do more damage than good,” he said, truthfully.

  “He was very respectful, but I’ll be completely honest with you, Granddad. I have him on my short list of suspects for now.”

  Both men looked at her like she was crazy, and she swore there was an audible gasp from one of them.

  “What?” she looked over at her husband and her brother-in-law. “I’m not going to lie to him. He’s eighty-eight and he’s not stupid. He didn’t just ask me because he wanted my opinion on his home furnishings or the paint color on the walls in Wyler’s house.”

  Timothy’s rich laugh filled the room. “If you were a couple years older I would have chased you myself, young lady.”

  “I would have tossed the man I’m married over in a heartbeat. I like older men,” she answered back, kissing his cheek and winking at Blackhawk.

  Her husband grinned at the display. “Not happening Granddad. Over my dead body is she tossing me over for anyone.”

  Timothy winked at his grandson. “Tell me who else is on your short list,” he said, holding her hand with his gnarled one.

  Elizabeth sat back in her chair. “Well, Granddad anyone you just handed him on that list of would be shaman replacements are now on it too, until I eliminate them. The local veterinarian, dentist, and medical doctor on the reservation are also on the list. Again until I eliminate them, because they had access to Chloral Hydrate. I’ll start working on that tomorrow.”

  “If I can help you, all you need to do is ask.”

  Elizabeth looked at her husband. “Also on the list is the officer who found the medicine wheel in the campground.”

  Now it was Whitefox’s turn to look surprised. “I get the rest, but Chester Briggs? Why?”

  It was Blackhawk that replied. “He found the scene initially until we can eliminate him, he’s a suspect.”

  “He’s innocent. I know my men.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Here’s a little story, take it for what it’s worth. My own brother and step-mother turned out to be homicidal. By overlooking them I almost got us killed. I don’t discount anyone anymore. If someone on my team found it they’d be on the list too. Tomorrow I start breaking it down. We also should have the one victim’s ID by morning. That’s on my ‘to do list’ and I’ll be digging there also. The first rule in FBI work, Callen, is you can’t eliminate anyone based on them being part of your friends or family.”

  “I see.”

  Elizabeth placed her hand on his arm. “I hope you don’t take it personal, Callen. It’s our job.”

  Blackhawk watched his wife, and knew she was hell on details. At some point, the killer will slip up and leave something that would tip her off. Now he just needed to help her get all the information, and together they would go through them one by one.

  “Am I on your list too?” Whitefox asked, looking from Elizabeth to his brother.

  “No,” they both answered at the same time.

  “Well that’s good to hear,” he said. Frankly, they had him worried for a few minutes there.

  “It couldn’t have been you leaving the note on our porch. Ethan let you in, and he set the code before bed, so there was no way you could have exited the house. All the doors and windows on the main floor have alarms. If you tried to sneak out they would have gone off. The only room that has access to the yard below, by tree, is our bedroom window. Where you could have jumped out to lay the card down; you wouldn’t have been able to climb back into the house without setting off an alarm. We’re your alibi,” she stated nonchalantly.

  “What if I had an accomplice?”

  Blackhawk picked up where his wife had left off. “I sat in that grave with you and my wife, and the look on your face at the horror said it all. I can read people pretty well. This is my specialty with the FBI. You didn’t kill those women. You were incredibly bothered by it. Couple that with the statement that you made in our own kitchen about the dreams. If you were the killer, why would you give us that much insight into how you were killing them?”

  “It’s great to know that you both suspected me at some point,” he snapped. He was angry, not so much at them, but at the entire situation.

  “We suspect everyone. It’s what Ethan and I do. Then we work backwards to figure out who it isn’t and who it is, all by eliminating suspects. Right now, your father is at the top of my list, but he has a few reasons why I don’t believe it’s him completely.”

  “Care to share?” Whitefox asked.

  “Serial killers keep trophies, and that’s what I’m thinking this one is doing,” she answered, taking a sip of the tea Timothy put in front of her. “I didn’t see anything trophy-like at Wyler’s home.”

  “What were you looking for?” asked Timothy.

  “As of yet I’m not sure, but I’ll know it when I see it. Right now we’re missing all the fetus skulls and the arrows. Possibly one of those can be the trophy. Until we get into the mind of the killer, and I get more information I haven’t a definite answer.”

  “I’ll get you more directionality on the killer,” Blackhawk added, caressing his wife’s cheek.

  “You both seem to work very well together,” commented Timothy Blackhawk.

  “We both have our strengths and bring that to the team,” answered Elizabeth. “I can’t profile as well as Ethan, so I rely on his assessment of the killer. It makes it easier to pinpoint a direction to focus on during an assignment when you trust your partner’s judgment completely.”

  “Lyzee is hell on details where I’m not, Granddad. I see the big picture, and she sees the tiny parts that make it up.”

  “Is your marriage the same?” he asked, after all he had been married to his wife for nearly fifty years. It takes a lot to make a marriage work.

  “She’s the boss,” he said, grinning.

  Elizabeth laughed and punched him in the shoulder. “I wish, Cowboy.”

  “Cowboy?” asked his grandfather, curiously.

  She took this one for him. “Our Ethan tends to be reckless in the field, playing with the rules and bending them to the breaking point. Our boss gave him the nickname.”

  “The irony is Granddad, that she’s the one more likely to cause havoc. I was the cowboy until I married her. Now I spend most of my time hoping she doesn’t get hurt.” The worry was back on his face, and he couldn’t help it. He was scared for her.

  Elizabeth saw the fear and caressed his cheek. “I’m safe,” she whispered, leaning over and kissing him gently on the lips. “I promise.”

  Ethan Blackhawk stood. He was done discussing this for the night, and he had planned on an after dinner walk with his wife. “If you gentlemen don’t mind, I‘m planning on taking my wife for a stroll around the yard to show her where I grew up,” he said, putting out his hand. “Join me, Lyzee?”

  Elizabeth took his hand without hesitation. “I think I’d love that.” She smiled at him warmly.

  “You better take a throw, Ethan. It gets chilly out, and your wife will be cold,” added Timothy. “She’s only in a dress.”

  “Granddad, that’s a great idea,” he said, winking at his brother, as he grabbed the throw from the couch and led her to the door. “Don’t wait up for us,” he said over his shoulder as he left the cabin.

  Callen Whitefox sat back in the chair and grinned. He knew just where his brother was taking his wife, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised.

  Elizabeth was about to see the Blackhawk/Whitefox den of iniquity first hand, and he honestly wished he was her escort.

  * * *

  She was cold, scared, and didn’t know why she was in
the woods, dressed in a silly Pocahontas costume. Last thing she remembered was getting dizzy and falling into the darkness. Now she sat on a rock in the woods all alone. The confusion was fogging her brain, and she couldn’t seem to focus on anything. Most importantly she didn’t know how to find her way back home. When the figure emerged from the trees, he was wearing war paint, carrying a bow and quiver of arrows over his shoulder, and wearing some stupid braided wig. The recognition was immediate, and so was the fear that flooded her, as she didn’t know what game he was playing. None of this felt right to her and more than panic flooded her. There was cold terror brewing in her body.

  “What are you doing dressed like that?” she asked, terrified by the cold look in his eyes. It was the steely glare of death. She had never seen so much hate in anyone’s eyes in all her life, and it scared the voice from her body. Nothing more would escape her throat to ask him why he was playing this nonsensical game. There was no reason the man she was sleeping with would have her out in the chilly woods after dark playing Indian. Just a few months ago, he was talking about having children with her, and now he stared at her in sheer animosity.

  The killer said nothing, but simply removed the bow and one arrow from his back; he placed it on the bow, drew the string back, and let it fly. It barely missed her throat. The sound of it striking the tree behind her pierced the night, and it was followed by her frightened cry. Only then did he speak as he shouted three words before he gave chase.

  “RUN or DIE!”

  * * *

  Elizabeth waited by the car, watching as her husband went to the trunk and pulled out a bottle of sparkling apple cider. She knew it wasn’t in there earlier, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you trying to get lucky, Cowboy? First you spring flowers on me, and now sparkling cider. This screams of husbandly seduction.”

  “Hell yeah I am, and I hope it does. I don’t often get to seduce my beautiful wife.”

  “Well then, at least I know what you're aiming for tonight,” she laughed and let him wrap the throw around her shoulders just in case she got chilly. When he kissed her slowly, she enjoyed as the warmth build up through her body. On instinct she moved closer into his arms for more warmth. “Keep kissing me like that, Ethan, and I’ll be the one mauling you in the yard,” she whispered, when he broke the kiss.

  “I can’t say I mind my wife taking advantage of me out under the stars, in the car, our house, the office…”

  Elizabeth nearly snorted. “I get the picture, Cowboy. You’re easy.”

  “Hell yeah I am, but only when it comes to you.” Blackhawk snickered, as he led her to the back yard. “Can you climb a ladder in those shoes?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Up there is the tree house, and I’m thinking I’d like you to see it with me.”

  “THE tree house?” she asked, smiling.

  “Oh yeah baby,” he grinned, salaciously. “This is the famous Blackhawk tree house.”

  She was pretty sure why it was famous or was that infamous? “After you,” she answered, daring him to go first. Besides, it would be a superior view.

  Blackhawk tucked the sparkling apple cider under his arm and started up the ladder. When he got to the top, he climbed in the window and unlatched the door. “Toss me the throw,” he called down to her, laughing.

  Elizabeth rarely got to see her husband behave like this. He was childlike, free of worry, and allowing himself to have a good time. It made her heart skip a beat to see him smile freely for a change.

  Elizabeth tossed it up to him and then began climbing the ladder up to meet him. When she got to the top, she walked into the tree house and couldn’t help but grin. He had lit some candles and laid the blanket in the center or the room. “Oh, Mr. Blackhawk, I’m getting the sneaking suspicion this isn’t your first time doing this,” she said, closing the door and walking over to him.

  “I plead the fifth,” he grinned, wickedly. Just the idea of a little interlude with his wife in his old tree house had his heart pounding, and the blood flowing fast through his body.

  “Oh, I just bet you do.”

  Blackhawk pulled her down to the blanket and across his lap, so she was cradled against him. “Guilty as charged,” he admitted, as he kissed her on the lips and enjoyed being close to his wife.

  “Mmmmm…” Elizabeth let him control the kiss, since he planned this little rendezvous. She was going to just let him take her where ever he needed to go.

  “I used to sneak up here to smoke, drink, and pretty much everything else teenage boys liked to do,” he admitted, laughing at her lifted eyebrow. “Trust me, baby. There were more porn magazines than girls up here. It took me years to hone my craft just to be ready for my wife.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Porn, huh?”

  “In fact, there may still be some if we look around. I know where Callen used to stash them,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Shut up, Mr. Blackhawk and just kiss me. I’m a sure thing,” she whispered, just before he hungrily kissed her. All the breath was torn from her body, as he plundered, took, and controlled it all. When he broke away, she just stared up at him with no thoughts or words.

  “Kissing you is amazing,” he said finally, as she came to her knees before him. His hands were buried in her hair and his mouth was again back for more. Blackhawk ran his hand down the back of her dress, finding the zipper and slowly pulling it down. It was like foreplay, promising what was to come. When he had it all the way down, he dropped the sleeves from her shoulders and laid kisses across them in the pale light from the candles. Pulling her to her feet, he dropped the dress from her body, and ran his hands across her flesh. “I love how your skin looks so pale and delicious,” he whispered, as he ran more kisses across her throat and then back to her mouth.

  Elizabeth let him continue, feeling like he needed this moment to be his. Ethan Blackhawk wanted to make love to her in his tree house, he built as a boy. Who was she to complain?

  Blackhawk laid her back onto the blanket and kissed down across the valley of her breasts, leaving little nips along the way, because he loved how she made tiny breathy noises to show her pleasure. He stopped over her navel and left more kisses, pausing over where his tiny baby lay hidden and protected.

  “It’s hard to believe isn’t it?” she asked, as she felt him pause.

  “It’s nothing short of a miracle, Lyzee,” he answered. “For me to come back to where I started and find out that we created a child. It’s amazing. The wonder of it all trips me up.”

  Elizabeth touched his cheek and looked into his eyes. “You're going to be an amazing father. I picked the perfect man to have children with, and there’s no doubt in my mind,” she said, with complete honesty. It was as if something charged the very air around them as everything came to a stop. Blackhawk blinked once and then twice before his carefully planned seduction came crashing down around them.

  Blackhawk wanted slow and romantic, but he felt anything but that just now. Her words fueled him and here she was, lying in the moonlight as it came through the tree house window. Now he just wanted to devour her completely and take what was his. It was like he was starving as he took her mouth again, and this time she responded, feeling the urgency and the need in his body. Her hands went to the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room. Suddenly the room felt hot and heated as his wife pulled his clothing from his body. Part of him wanted to beg her to move faster, to free him so he could find some relief.

  Elizabeth reached down and unbuckled his pants, and dropped the zipper, to set him free. Once he was in her hand she swore his whole body shook with need. As he stood to allow her to help him break free of his clothes, she went with him. They stayed locked in a deep hard kiss that showed no sign of stopping any time soon. Hands went to his hair, freeing it, so she could run her fingers through the silkiness of it all. Elizabeth gasped when he lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the small table in the corner. When he placed her on the edge and continued his feast
ing she thought she’d explode.

  “There will never be enough of you, Lyzee,” he muttered, ripping away the tiny pair of panties she had worn. They made a tearing noise, and she gasped at the feel and sound of rendering fabric. “I find I want my wife more and more. You’re my drug.” Ethan Blackhawk stepped between her legs and prepared to invade, take, and own what was only his.

  “Ethan,” she started, but he silenced her with his mouth, a brutal kiss that heated everything in her from her toes to her ears, as she felt the flush of intense heat. When she felt the tip of him waiting at her opening she braced herself, knowing he would strike when she least expected it and with full force. Tonight he wasn’t holding back, she felt the urgency in his mouth and hands.

  Ethan Blackhawk was out of control, but that was nothing new. Since finding his wife, he’d seemed to forget the definition of the word. She had this effect on him, and he loved every second of it. Professional Ethan fell away weeks ago, and personal Ethan was completely out of control and here to stay. He drove forward, sliding into her roughly and swallowing her gasp of invasion. Only then did he break the kiss to utter one word as he held her head in his hands to force her to look into his eyes.

  “Mine.”

  Elizabeth felt helpless, but in an amazing way. Here was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on, and he wanted her so much. Staring into his inky blue-black eyes, she did the only thing she could. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she allowed him all the control of the moment, and just went along for the ride. As he slid in and out of her body, as she perched on the edge of the table, she couldn’t help but feel the thrill rush overwhelm her. Elizabeth could feel his fingers burying themselves into her hips, holding her prisoner as he moved deeper into her body, taking all he wanted from her.

  “I won’t ever let you go, Elizabeth,” he whispered in the silence of the room, and it sounded so loud. The only other noises were the crickets outside and their labored breathing. Harder and deeper he moved, as he continued taking his wife with abandon.