“Mr. B, are you okay? You don’t look well.”
“Elizabeth has been abducted by the killer. I have to get home.” His voice was dead and empty, and he was trying to get his body and mind to work together again.
She’d never seen her boss like this. Ethan Blackhawk looked hollow and out of sorts. There was no way he could drive himself home, she called over to an agent sitting at his desk. “Tom, the boss needs to get home fast, can you drive him? Something happened to Mrs. B.” Ginny scribbled their address down from the files on her desktop and held it out to the agent.
“Can do, Ginny!” said the agent, grabbing his gun and keys and rushing to his boss’s side. “Come on, Director! Let me get you home fast!” He steered the man to the elevator, holding the paper in his hand.
Blackhawk just followed where he was led. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this, and now he knew nothing ever could. How was he to go to his house, and know that she’d been stolen away from there? If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself, and he certainly couldn’t go on without her and their child. It felt like half his life was gone, and his heart was dead and ripped in two.
The agent beside him led him by the arm, and was speaking to him. He tried to focus, and then just gave up as he opened the car door for him. Then his mind went completely dead. It had to go silent, because if he allowed it the freedom to think, it would drive him mad.
The killer had his wife at that very moment.
His Elizabeth was in the hands of a homicidal killer and whether he survived depended on her survival.
Blackhawk prayed.
He started praying to any and every God, Goddess, saint, idol, and deity he could think of, hoping someone would hear his words. When he closed his eyes, he remembered the night they shared and the morning. The fear made him want to howl in pain. His wife was at the mercy of a mad man.
His phone rang and he looked down at the display. It was Gabe. Surely he would know what to do, and he’d help him through this.
“What happened Ethan? You bailed on that call. The bosses are all worked up.”
“Gabe, the killer took Elizabeth.” The words almost didn’t come out, and they certainly sounded foreign to his ears. He wondered if he even was able to make a complete sentence.
Gabriel Rothschild felt everything in him go cold. Dear God, this was all his fault, and he had to do something. “Ethan, listen to me. You have to snap out of this, she’s going to need you. I’ll mobilize everyone that we have in the area. I can be on the next flight out of Quantico to help you, but you have to run this until I get there. You’re her last chance. Ethan, she needs you right now.”
Blackhawk heard the words.
“Ethan she’s going to be okay, you have to do your job. Do it for Elizabeth.”
He hung up his phone on his friend and boss. The anger and the pain were too much for him to swallow right now. Something like hate started growing deep inside of him. If she didn’t make it, he would just be inconsolable.
When he looked in the mirror, the tech van was right behind them. In fact, there were four vans as they pulled along the street to his house. Part of him wanted to drop to his knees and weep, and the other part wanted to kill the man that touched his wife while everyone watched. Out the side window, he could see his brother standing in the front yard, and he looked as bad as he did at that moment.
The minute the car stopped, Blackhawk jumped out, running towards the porch. It all had to be a big mistake, and she was going to come out and ask him why he looked so scared. At that moment, he would have given his life to hear her call him ‘Cowboy’ one more time.
“Ethan, wait!” His brother headed him off, throwing his body against his and stopping him. “Don’t touch it! Let the techs get to it first.”
“I have to find my wife, Callen!” He struggled to get past his own brother. There was the threat of violence simmering, just below the surface ready to break free.
Whitefox kept his brother locked in his arms, restraining him as he led him to the porch and evidence. If he contaminated the scene he might risk their chance of finding Elizabeth. Both men watched as Christina bagged the note.
She handed it to her boss with eyes full of sadness and fear for Elizabeth, and the man standing in front of her. Christina knew he had to be thinking about the mass graves they had found, and if they’d recover her body the same way. She knew he was, because all of the tech team certainly was too. It was written across all their faces.
Blackhawk took the bagged card and examined it. On the front was a dove, a hand drawn one. It looked peaceful. Then he flipped it over. The words were angrily scribbled across the card and he could see the desperation in them. The killer was definitely unhinged and now he had his wife and child.
You have twelve hours and then she dies Blackhawk.
Let’s see if the mighty raven can find the dove before
she’s the sacrifice.
Her life is in your hands.
Blackhawk felt rage and swallowed the pain. The clock was ticking for his wife, and he swore right then and there the killer was a dead man.
There’d be no trial and no jury.
In that brief instant, he decided that he was going to make sure that the man suffered if his wife was even scratched. Something dark, black, and vengeful welled up in his body and threatened to spill out at the man who was fucking with his life.
He looked at his watch. She would have left for the doctor by nine, and it was now ten. His wife had eleven hours left, and he hoped and prayed it was enough time to find her alive.
If he didn’t…
His life was officially over.
Gabe Rothschild felt intense fear and horrible guilt. He called his secretary and ordered the jet prepared for immediate flight. Right now he was abandoning his job and heading back out into the field to help his family. If anything happened to Elizabeth, not only would he be crushed, but his wife would be devastated. He sent her a text message simply stating he had to take a flight, and more details later.
That was it.
She was almost six months pregnant, and Livy didn’t need this stress harming her or their baby. Telling her that her best friend had been abducted by a serial killer would do more harm than good at that moment. They still had a chance, and he knew if anyone could fight for her life, it would be Elizabeth Blackhawk.
Grabbing his gun from the desk, and clipping it on under his suit jacket, he went to his closet grabbing his travel bag. In case of emergencies, he kept it there if he had to catch a flight, and this was a huge emergency. Gabe walked out of his office, nodding at his secretary as he entered the elevator.
Elizabeth wouldn’t have much time. It would be a five hour flight until he landed and hopefully that would give him time to help find her. He’d rush the pilot and get them in the air fast. That was the good thing about working for the government. There was a way to circumvent any delay.
Gabe dialed his phone, barking orders into it. “I want that flight in the air as soon as I step on the jet, am I clear? There can’t be any hold ups. Get it ready to take off. I’m in route and this is priority one.” He disconnected the call.
In the garage, his car was waiting, the driver had been warned and he was prepared. The engine running and the door open.
“Get me to the jet as fast as possible, Richie. It’s an emergency.”
The driver nodded, closing the door and jumping into the car, following orders.
Gabe sat in the back pulling up all the information his agents had been sending him the last few days, and he dove in, doing what he used to do.
The training came back, and the field agent was still alive in him.
As he scanned the information, he called his secretary. “I want everything you have on Wyler Blackhawk. If he worked off reservation I need to know where and with whom.” He gave her the years specifically. Elizabeth had clued him in that the killer was his offspring. It was off the official record, but now he needed to find t
he mother that gave birth to that child. Time was ticking, and he knew it.
“Hang in there, Lyzee,” he whispered to himself, as he began constructing his own assessment to help save his agent’s life.
* * *
Satisfaction and joy filled the man.
He had succeeded in his plan.
After taking the woman, he dropped her into the trunk of his car, and he escaped from the house as soon as he could. He didn’t want to risk either brother returning and finding him in the act. Once step one was completed, he brought her back to his house, pulling into the garage to begin his prep work.
Elizabeth Blackhawk was a beautiful woman. There was no doubt about that. Deep down, he was envious of his brother, and he wondered what it would be like to have a woman like her as his own. The rest of the women that he had taken had been easy and mediocre. There was no time for the little fantasies being created in his mind. The drugs he pumped into her would be wearing off in a little while, and he still had work to do on dressing her and the tattoo.
As he gazed down at her lying in the back of his trunk, he touched the pulse in her neck. Good, she was still alive. Her pulse was there slow, but steady. Unlike the deputy, he didn’t give her the full syringe. It was only a quick dose to incapacitate and not kill. Lifting her from the trunk, he couldn’t help but breathe in her delicious scent. Oh, Ethan Blackhawk was very lucky indeed. Placing her on the metal table he used for all his women, he felt completely and totally giddy. His most favorite part was coming soon.
The thrill of the hunt.
There was great pleasure taken as he started to undress her and place her clothes in a paper bag. This was the dangerous part. Trace evidence could be the end of him, and he needed to take extra care with stripping and dressing her. The FBI was clueless as to why he was doing all this, so he needed to be extra diligent to not give them anything to work with at all. A part of him wanted to see Blackhawk’s face, as he found the bag of clothes and wondered if he had violated his precious wife. If trace evidence wasn’t an issue, he might have enjoyed his brother’s wife just to twist the knife. By now, the man would be a complete and total wreck, and he couldn’t help but enjoy that idea.
The raven would beg to get her back and trade his life.
Back to his work, he focused on the woman on the table. Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt and slipped her arms free of it, only to look for the specific spot he wanted to draw the dove. As he ran his fingers down her creamy skin, he could feel his body stir, and he pushed it back down deep.
Now wasn’t the time.
Preparing her for the kill must come first. Sex would be nice, but he liked his women awake, willing, and aware.
Not passed out and drugged.
Where was the fun in that? Suddenly, something so completely devious popped into his mind. He knew how to punish the raven further and make him more insane. The killer pulled out Elizabeth’s cell phone, and took some pictures to send later when the game had begun.
Now it was time for the tattoo right over her heart.
“I wonder if you had any clue as to the tattoo, Elizabeth,” he crooned to the unconscious woman. “Why the bull on the last victim you ask?” He giggled at the imaginary conversation they were having. “Well my beautiful dove let me tell you. I’m the bull, and I’m really tired of being excluded from the family. Even that pathetic totem pole doesn’t see me.”
He started sketching the dove with a steady hand. “I snuck onto the reservation, and I saw the bull. It’s tiny and insulting to just be a small carving over a signature.”
The killer examined the dove and shrugged.
It was good enough.
“I placed the bull on the last woman to throw you all off. Did I mean my pathetic biological father, or did I mean me? I hope you weren’t too confused. I image it has to be frustrating to run in circles and not have a clue who I am,” he paused to blow on the ink. “When you die, Elizabeth, it’ll be because the three of you are too stupid to figure out who I am.”
Ethan Blackhawk and Callen Whitefox never even noticed him. They didn’t deserve to be known as the raven and the fox. As far as he was concerned, it was all hype. They were two law enforcement men and not a clue between them. The raven was a stealthy bird and the fox a cunning creature. When he killed them both, he would show everyone that the bull wasn’t invisible. He couldn’t wait to make the medicine wheel and use Elizabeth Blackhawk as his offering. The Great Spirit would be pleased and give him what he wanted most. When he was given the job to carry on for his grandfather as the bear, the shaman of the tribe, all would be complete. He may have only been the bull like his worthless father, but now he would move up the family ladder by cutting out the unimportant ones above him.
When he finished the dove tattoo, he let it dry, again snapping more pictures. Working on her hair, he started brushing it and dividing it. He would give her braids and make her look the part of an Indian princess. Then, when her husband found her with all of his father’s arrows piercing her heart, he would see the irony and possibly blame his dear old dad. His outsider wife would be the thing that destroyed his brother. All the other women who died were incidentals.
When he admitted who he really was to them, they laughed. No one ever believed he was a Blackhawk or cared. The women of the Rez scoffed, and when they finished laughing he had the last chuckle as he killed them all. Had any of them appreciated his bloodline and that he was truly Native, maybe they would have survived and given him a child worthy of being a Blackhawk. None of the women were pure enough in Indian blood, or they would have looked at him and seen the truth. He was Native and not white man.
As his controlling mother once taught him, ‘waste not, want not’ and the bones came in handy. They all were just a means to an end for him.
After killing the first few, he realized he could put their bones to good use. Offerings would give him favor with the spirits. Then before long, the deaths became addicting. The kill thrilled him almost as much as the hunt and harvest of their bones. What was more perfect than an offering of the most innocent babies?
The stupid women were all ignorant. All it took was some pretty words and they were willing to get pregnant. Not even a challenge. He wondered if Elizabeth Blackhawk would make him have to work for it.
Oh how he wished he had more time with her, but his wants would have to wait. She was now part of the game and in the end would be the one thing that destroyed his brother.
As he finished her hair, he looked down at her. Weaving the black feathers into the braids, he enjoyed his work. She looked very much the part of Indian princess. As long as her eyes were closed and the telltale blue was invisible, one might think she was Native.
“I wish I could show you what love is Elizabeth. Once you were with me, you would willingly leave Ethan Blackhawk behind in a heartbeat,” he said, and then laid a kiss on her soft lips. Yes, she would have been a delicious conquest if he had the time. Looking at the clock, he wished he could just keep her here a bit longer, but he knew he must continue. There was a schedule.
The killer pulled out a dress. It was soft deerskin, and it was inscribed with the symbols of life and death. He pulled off her jeans, packed them away, and sat her up to dress. When he was finished he thought about the wedding ring on her hand. He was going to take it, but instead decided to let it go. The blue stones looked very tribal and fitting for her dress.
As he bound her hands in front of her body tightly, he placed a burlap sack over her face, securing it around her throat just in case the drugs wore off while they travelled.
Making the Chloral Hydrate had been easy enough once he found the instructions online. All he needed to do was buy the ingredients and go from there. He thought about stealing some, but knew that could get him caught, and he was too smart to get caught. Although, the FBI didn’t appear to hire the brightest or smartest, so he probably would have gotten away with it. Especially since the three of them were running in circles trying to figure o
ut who he was, and why he was killing.
He bound her ankles, slipping on the deerskin moccasins he had purchased at the gift shop to complete her outfit. Now the fun would be begin soon.
Lifting her up into his arms, he placed her back into the trunk and checked the clock. It was time to take Elizabeth into the woods and to his favorite hunting grounds and set the scene.
He took a few pictures of her bound in the trunk with her own phone, again to use it as torment for her husband. He was careful to turn off the GPS tracking, as he didn’t want them finding them, not yet anyway. Once she was dead and an offering, he’d turn it back on to draw in the brothers. Once Ethan Blackhawk had her location, he’d take his life too when he showed up.
Closing the trunk of the car, he went to get himself ready. Then they needed to swing by his father’s home to drop off the bag of clothes.
He was beyond excited, the hunt was about to begin.
* * *
Time one p.m.
Hours abducted – four.
Blackhawk sat in his office going over the papers that contained all the information he had regarding the killer. Elizabeth had put most of it together, and he realized without her they’d have nothing. All he could hope was in all the information she’d somehow uncovered the identity of the killer. He was grateful she was his partner, and that she was excellent at her job. As quick as the feeling came it went. Now his partner was gone and he was lost.
His brother was down in the tech lab, pushing them hard. When Callen Whitefox offered to go down there and talk to the staff, Ethan Blackhawk was appreciative. There just no conceivable way he could focus yet or face the team. The wall he had constructed to hold back the fear was slowly crumbling as every minute ticked away on his wife’s life.
This is probably why the FBI frowned on married couples working together. There was always that risk that you’d lose your partner in the field, but then you could always go home to the comfort of a spouse. Now he didn’t have either, and he didn’t know how he was going to get through the next eight hours. This had tripped him up badly. Who would have known the government to have something right for a change? If he found her alive, and the possibility of ‘IF’ terrified him, she would never be leaving his side again. He swore it then and there even if he had to chain her to his wrist.
Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) Page 45
