“There has to be something here,” he said, talking to himself. He forced himself to think like his father and get into his mind, living his life. Right at that moment he needed to become the person he was studying. His father wasn’t one to keep private things public, so he wouldn’t leave the information out where everyone could see it. That meant one thing, the bedroom. It was the most private of places in a person’s home.
In his father’s room, he found a chest at the foot of the bed, and in it were blankets. Yet, something made him dig deeper. Beneath it all, he found a journal, a box of pictures, some letters and a locked box. He pulled out the letters, hoping for a name, a face, anything. There were lots of letters. Some were love notes from his mother, pictures of the boys, and then there was a strange name he didn’t recognize.
“Callen look,” he called to his brother.
He joined him on the bed as both men looked through the letters.
“I see first names, but nothing with a last name,” he said finally. As he pulled out the box of photos he started flipping through them quickly. First he found pictures of Catherine Blackhawk and her son. Then there were pictures of his own mother, holding who he assumed was himself as a child. Then there was a single picture of another woman. No child present.
“Ethan look,” he said, handing him the picture. On the back was a woman’s name.
Angela Teldar
“We need to get back to the lab and start searching for this woman,” said Blackhawk. “There are only three women in this box. It looks like he stopped keeping track after her.” Blackhawk packed everything back up into the chest, put the blankets back on top and closed it. This was the closest thing that they had to a lead. Exiting the small house both men paused. They saw the brown paper bag at relatively the same time.
“Was that there before?” asked Blackhawk.
Whitefox hadn’t a clue. He didn’t remember seeing it, but then again he wasn’t really focused on it when they arrived. “What is it?”
Ethan felt sick. He’d opened bags on assignments only to have a skull staring up at him. “I don’t know if I can look. What if it’s…?” He couldn’t say more.
“I’ll do it,” Whitefox offered, understanding what was worrying him. Cautiously, he approached the bag, and pushed it with the toe of his boot. It slid easily and left no wet marks, so he doubted it was a skull or body part. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his pocket knife to slice open the bag. When he did there was a sigh of relief.
“It’s not parts of my wife, is it?”
“It’s clothes only. I think it may be Elizabeth’s boots, jeans and shirt. What was she wearing today?”
“Oh God,” he whispered.
The killer had taken her clothes off her body and touched his wife. Then he pictured the woman they found in his brother’s living room.
“Focus Ethan! What was she wearing today?”
Blackhawk took a deep breath. “She had on light jeans, a plain shirt and her boots weren’t on yet when I left.”
“The killer left theses to screw with you. Hang in there, Ethan.”
Blackhawk shook his head. “He’s dressed her like the last one, and he’s playing a game. That means we still have time,” he said, softly. Now he was trying to convince himself.
“Okay, then let’s get these back, maybe he left trace on them, and we can get working on the woman’s name.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
As both men buckled into the Denali, Ethan’s phone chimed. It startled him; it was the tone for incoming messages from his wife. “Elizabeth’s sending me something.”
He opened the messages and dropped his phone. The pain and rage ripped through him, as he ran shaking hands through his hair.
“What?” Whitefox picked up the phone and looked at the pictures. They were of an unconscious Elizabeth bound and lying on the ground, bound in a trunk, and a partially naked Elizabeth lying on a metal table with a dove tattooed on her chest.
“Ethan, he’s fucking with you,” he said calmly, even though all he felt was complete and total loathing. This killer was hurting his family and he wanted to make him pay. Then he heard the chime again.
The hunt has begun. Come quick Raven or the
dove will die.
Whitefox stared at the pictures. “Ethan, look at the surroundings and tell me what you see. You’re the profiler. Get into his head and make him regret sending you the clues to find our Elizabeth!” he demanded, handing the phone to his brother.
Blackhawk tried to ignore the unconscious Elizabeth. Callen Whitefox was right, and he needed to focus on everything else in the pictures in hopes that they would give him a clue.
“You can do it, Ethan,” his brother pushed. “Tell me what you see.”
The first picture showed her outside, possibly in the woods. “She’s in the shadows, so there has to be very tall trees blocking her. Look at the ground. She’s on a rock, but around the rock there’s something,” he passed his phone to his brother.
“Pine needles.”
“Okay, so she’s in the woods somewhere, and that makes sense since the techs found sap on the last card and debris in her hair.” Blackhawk pulled up the next picture. “Trunk of a car,” he said, trying to analyze it. “Blue or dark blue I believe. Interior is gray. It doesn’t look boxy to me so I think it may be a newer model,” he said, looking up at his brother.
Whitefox was scribbling the information on paper on his lap.
Ethan pulled up the last picture, and his heart ached to the point of breaking him down. His beautiful wife lay on a silver morgue-like table, and she was half naked. If the killer assaulted her, he was going to make sure his death was incredibly painful, even if it ended his career and sent him to prison. “Look off to the side. Paint cans, bottles of bleach and a car battery,” he whispered through the pain. “It’s a garage. First he took her to a house with a garage to prep her.” He spit out the words, even though they made him sick to his stomach.
“Let’s get these back to the lab. They might be able to tell us something more.” Whitefox patted his brother on the shoulder. “Stay focused Ethan, she needs us. We can do this. We have to do this for Lyzee. We have to bring her home to us.”
Blackhawk nodded. “I’ll get through this. My wife is tough and bad ass. He doesn’t have a clue what he’s up against. I have to believe that she can beat him at this game.”
Whitefox nodded and hoped his brother was right. He didn’t tell him about the dream with her crashing through the woods dressed very much like the picture. In the dream, she was being hunted and chased. It was best he didn’t know what his wife was facing. Part of him didn’t believe his brother could handle the truth and the vision he and his grandfather had shared.
Whitefox said a silent prayer for the woman they both loved with all of their hearts.
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
Tuesday afternoon
“Oh Elizabeth,” he called to her. “I can hear your breathing, and I’m not that far behind you,” the killer taunted, trying to get the dove to give away her location. Now he could see that a head start for her had been a very bad idea. The two minutes he allowed her, as he sent the pictures, it gave her enough time to become invisible. Damn her, and now he couldn’t see or hear the prey.
“I can smell your fear, Elizabeth,” he shouted into the trees.
Elizabeth kept moving as silently as possible. The killer had allowed her a few minutes head start, and that gave her a tactical advantage. She was able to put space between her and the man that wanted her dead. Now, he was yelling into the woods, and giving away his location. This man wouldn’t have made it a day in the FBI training. The sniper teams would have paint-balled him in the first five minutes.
By going back to her training, she was going to make it out of the woods alive, even if it was twenty miles to the main road. Once night fell, she’d be at a disadvantage in the darkness, but then again so would the killer. If he had a flashlight, it
would giveaway his location if he stopped making noise.
To the right of her location was the main trail. There was no doubt, he expected her to stick to it, because it was the easiest path. Of course he assumed, as a woman she’d stick to the fast and easy. As a victim ready to fight hard, she’d take the hard route if it offered her and the baby growing inside her protection.
This round wouldn’t be his.
Elizabeth refused to let him have her life and child. Ethan Blackhawk had suffered enough in his life, and the killing blow was not going to be her death. Not if she had anything to say about it.
“I see you, Elizabeth. Just give up, and I promise the death will be fast and painless. I won’t let you suffer- just your husband,” he laughed, and continued down the path, searching for any sign of her.
In hindsight, he should have left her in her clothes. By giving her moccasins and brown colored clothing, he gave her camouflage to hide herself in the woods. He was certain she would have run the path, choosing to outrun him, but instead she went right for the underbrush.
Damn her!
As he looked at his watch, he calculated how far she could have gone. “I know you can hear me, you aren’t far in front of me now.”
Elizabeth kept her eyes on the ground and right in front of her, assuring she didn’t get caught in any branches or step on anything that would give her location away. She was paying dearly for the route. The brambles and pickers were ripping her arms apart, but it was the path and death, or the woods and some scratches. She’d suck it up to get back to her husband, and ease the ache she knew he was feeling.
Glancing down at her watch, she calculated the time. Barely had she traversed two miles. It was going to be a long day in the woods. All she could focus on was making it out, and celebrating their win over the killer.
Elizabeth wasn’t going down without a fight that was for certain. The only other certainty was that this asshole was hers when this was all over.
Even if it left blood on her hands and soul.
* * *
The jet touched down and before the captain could pull it to a stop, Gabe was ready to go. He had made sure a car was waiting, and it would transport him to his family and friend quickly. He nodded to the captain as the door was opened, and he barreled down the stairs to the tarmac. There was little time to lose, and he was sure that his agent was falling apart over the loss of his wife. The longer it took to get to FBI West, the longer the team would be going without leadership. Getting there fast and taking over was a priority.
There were people who could be heartless and do the job without conscience, and those who felt, loved, and were going to crumble. He cared about Ethan Blackhawk, but he was pretty sure that Elizabeth would be the backbone in the team. Now that she was missing, her husband wouldn’t hold together well. Unlike him, he was ‘the dragon slayer’, given that name because he was able to hide all emotion until he was alone. For a long time, people believed he had no heart, and he liked it that way. Those with no heart didn’t feel what he felt right now.
“Get me to FBI West fast. Lights all the way,” he said to the driver, as he hopped in. He was barely buckled in as they tore away, lights and sirens screaming.
* * *
Hours abducted~ six
Elizabeth felt like throwing up. She was moving as quickly through the woods as she could, staying in the thick underbrush for cover. If he thought she was going to make an easy target, he was dead wrong. One of his big mistakes was he left her watch on her wrist. On the face was a compass for just such an occasion. She’d kill for her gun, but that just wasn’t happening.
Every now and again, she could hear birds take off behind her, or his yells taunting her, promising to make it a quick kill if she just gave up.
There was no way in hell.
They were two hours in and all her training said to head north. Elizabeth was going to get home alive and to her husband. When she did, she was getting her gun and this asshole was a dead man.
Not for abducting her, but for fucking with her husband.
Just the taunts were making her more and more angry. He called her weak, a woman, and every other derogatory term he could to break her. Elizabeth smiled at them all, because they gave away something important. Little did he realize they showed his growing frustration at losing her early on in the game and repeatedly handed her his location.
Elizabeth moved low and through the brush, until she could hear him off to her right almost parallel with her. Scanning her surroundings, she was pretty sure he couldn’t see her.
All she wanted to do was get some water, and put some distance between them. Elizabeth was grateful that he had taken her boots, and left her with the soft moccasins. Her boots would have made more noise in the forest, but the soft moccasins were comfortable. Now, she got why Natives wore them. She may switch over herself if they got her out of the woods alive.
Hell, she’d move to the reservation and change her damn name if it got her back to her husband. She moved silently down a little incline and began to stand, and that’s when she felt the movement and the hand over her mouth pulling her backwards.
First instinct told her to fight hard. The hand over her mouth prevented her startled cry. When she heard the hiss in her ear, she almost wanted to rejoice.
“Elizabeth honey, it’s Wyler. Shhhhhhh, I have you now. Don’t fight me.”
She went lax and let him move her backwards. Had she not seen the killer, she might have fought Wyler. He was on her white board as a possible suspect. Elizabeth could still hear the killer moving through the woods, taunting her, and she relaxed momentarily.
There was the immediate flood of relief and adrenaline, as she wanted to hold onto her husband’s father and weep. When her body began shaking, he just held onto her and closed her into his arms protectively.
Wyler had been watching her since he happened across the scene hours ago. When he saw the tracks and roar of the ATV, it drew his attention. This was his hunting grounds and there was a trespasser. While hiding in the brush, he watched in horror as the white man unloaded the bound woman into the camp clearing. When he saw the hooded woman, he contemplated going for help, but once the hood was removed, and her identity revealed, there was no way he was going to leave her. It was his son’s wife and by fate or divine intervention, he wasn’t leaving her alone in the woods to fend for herself.
Wyler owed it to his son.
Elizabeth looked up at her father-in-law and nodded. She would keep very quiet, as she had the entire time.
Wyler followed her the last two hours, watching her slip through the woods. He stayed with her until he could get to her quietly and safely.
Now that he had her, they needed to hide. The incline she just came down had a little vine covered crevasse. Wyler pulled her body to the ground with his, and they rolled into the opening, his camouflaged body blocking hers as he pulled the vines back into place. He used the spot to hide when hunting, and now it was going to save their lives.
“Are you okay?” he whispered into her ear, so low he wasn’t sure he she heard him.
Elizabeth nodded but continued to shake.
“Is that the killer?” he asked.
Elizabeth nodded again.
“I don’t have my gun, only my bow. We’ll wait until he passes far enough in front of us, and I’ll get you out.”
Elizabeth nodded more and this time she buried her face in his shoulder, so grateful that she wasn’t going to have to do it alone.
Wyler let her cling to him. He imagined what she’d had to endure was more than anyone should have to face.
“Thank you, Wyler,” she whispered.
“It’s going to be a three or more hour hike out. Can you do it? We have to go the long way since he’s following a common path. I want to get you as far from him as possible.”
She clutched his hand and squeezed, as she just remained against the man protectively. All her thoughts were focused on how happy she was that her bab
y and husband wouldn’t be destroyed by this madman.
Wyler kissed her on the top of the head and ran his hands up and down her back reassuringly. “I’ll get you home to Ethan. Just hang in there for me, okay?”
Elizabeth couldn’t express how overjoyed she was. Now she had a chance. Wyler Blackhawk was going to get her back home. They may have to fight the killer, but now she had someone by her side and that meant the odds were in her favor.
Thank God she told him to go hunting and he listened. That one decision may have saved her and Baby Blackhawk’s life.
Ethan stood in his wife’s office on the phone with the lab. He and his brother had dropped the clothing off, given the tech team the picture, and told them they had one hour to get them something. His brother had gone to his grandfather’s house to ask him about Angela Teldar. Hopefully the older man knew something about the woman. Time was running out and right now there was a tech pulling data off his smartphone regarding the pictures the killer had sent.
“I don’t care, Christina. We’re supposed to have the finest tech lab money can buy. I want you to swab every ounce of her clothing and find me a trace of something. I want some lint, fibers, or anything that’s going to find Director Blackhawk!”
Blackhawk glanced up to see Gabe standing doorway.
“You have one hour to find it, and then I’m coming down. If you think my wife is scary when she’s mad then you’re in for a huge surprise. I don’t give a damn if you have to resort to a Ouija board! Get me something and make it fast!”
Gabriel Rothschild was sure he was going to find Ethan Blackhawk in a pile of despair over his wife being gone. What he saw was a man pushing his team and working hard to get her back. He knew then that he didn’t make a mistake letting them work together, and he knew the man was a lot tougher than he would be in the same situation.
Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) Page 47
