All the King's Henchmen

by Morgan Kelley

  “Thank you for how kind you’re being to Chris. I know it was a struggle.”

  He squeezed her hand.

  “It was, but I’m good, angel. I felt replaceable, but now I know that’s not true. We all play a role in your life, and I’m equally as important.”

  When he parked their vehicle in the parking lot of the fifth strip joint they’d visited, she turned his head.

  “You’re so very important to me. You’re my Callen James, and I’m going to love you until the day I die.”

  Well, that was the most amazing thing he’d ever heard, and the fact that she was worried about him proved he’d chosen well. His wife loved him.

  Truly.

  “Is it gauche to kiss in a strip club parking lot?” he asked.

  She stared at him.

  “Gauche?” she asked.

  It made her giggle.

  “That’s hot too.”

  Callen wiggled his eyebrows.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  Tugging her forward, his mouth moved easily over hers. The kiss, the feel of her lips as they were sharing that love was enough to make his heart feel like it was as light as air.

  She filled him with peace.

  “Mmmmm,” he said, as she pulled away. “I could kiss you all day long.”

  She grinned.

  “Maybe when this mess is over, you’d like to follow through with that,” she said, assaulting his earlobe next.

  His body shook.

  “You’re a very bad wife, turning your husband on before going to a strip club.”

  She grinned.

  “Oh, I know. I can’t help myself with you, Callen James. You make me want to be bad.”

  “Oh? How bad are we talking?” he asked.

  She whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, well, in that case,” he offered.

  She laughed.

  “I’d die for you, Ellie.”

  When he said the nickname that she’d picked to be his, and only his, her heart skipped.

  And her face dropped.

  “What?” he asked. “Angel, what’s wrong?” Callen asked. “You were okay.”

  “I’ve been keeping something from you,” she stated.

  His eyes went huge.

  “Please don’t tell me you had sex with Chris.”

  “WHAT?”

  He stared at her. Okay, that clearly wasn’t it, but then why the worried look?

  “Then what?”

  “Okay, first, I’m not going to have sex with Chris, Callen. That boat sailed. Secondly, this is about us. I owe you an apology.”

  “For?” he asked.

  “When we were at the house in Washington.”

  Callen was confused.

  “On our honeymoon?”

  She nodded.

  “At the end, when I was pissed, I hurt you. I was so upset that the two people I loved most in the world had conspired against me, that I know I damaged you.”

  He let her talk.

  “I threatened you with divorce and to take your kids away. I was so upset and angry. It wasn’t my finest moment, Callen. I’m sorry. I sometimes forget that words can damage, and I flung those at you. I promise to never do that again.”

  He was surprised.

  “My love.”

  She stopped him.

  “What you did was sweet, and I let my anger get the best of me. I know it took a lot of work.”

  “Why did you get so angry?” he asked. “Was it the ambush?”

  “Know how you fear being shoved out?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “I fear that I’m past my prime. I fear that I can’t do this job anymore, and when I couldn’t solve it, compounded with I felt humiliated in front of all those people, I lashed out. I was a horrible person, and I’m sorry.”

  Tears actually filled her eyes.

  “Oh, angel,” he said, wiping them with his thumbs. “I didn’t think of it that way. It never occurred to me that you couldn’t solve it.”

  “It’s fine,” she stated. “I shouldn’t have threatened you with our marriage. That was crossing a line. That’s on me. I just wanted to never have us look back and for you to say that I didn’t regret it. I do. I wish I didn’t get so upset. It was beautiful, and I know I’m a bitch sometimes. When I am one, call me on it. I won’t get mad.”

  He smiled at her.

  “When you’re bitchy, it’s sexy.”

  She laughed.

  Callen rested his forehead on hers.

  “We’re all damaged,” he said softly. “I think that’s why we work so well together. I was broken, but the pieces missing from me are filled with you, Ethan, and even Chris. There’s nothing to forgive. I’m not mad, but thank you for worrying about this for so long.”

  “I love you, Callen. I love you so much that it hurts when I think of a time without you. I’m sorry I’m hard to love sometimes. I’m sorry that I’m a challenge.”

  He smiled at her.

  “Ellie, your captain loves you,” he said, bringing her tattooed wrist to his mouth.

  He couldn't wait to surprise her with his next tattoo.

  When she’d composed herself, she was ready. Forget that they had media outside their ride.

  “We will be on the news,” he said.

  “Want a blowjob? That will freak them out and take their minds off of the case.”

  He laughed as he pictured it.

  “Oh, my very bad Ellie.”

  “Come on. Let’s go find a stripper who hooked on the side for the president to get your mind off of a blowjob.”

  “Said no man ever,” he admitted. “This is becoming the story of my life,” he muttered, adjusting his erection. That was all he needed the media seeing. Him walking into a strip club with a hard-on was always a bad idea.

  Oh, it wasn’t the strippers.

  It was his wife.

  As they both hopped out, there were reporters not far away. They were taking pictures.

  “Twenty says they think we’re perverts,” she stated, wiggling her fingers at them.

  One actually waved back.

  Callen couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

  “And they’d be right.”

  She found that funny as hell. How could she not? Her life…if her daddy was alive, would make the man shit a ton of bricks. Then he’d get over it since she was so damn happy.

  Inside, they paid the cover charge to watch the girls strip. Once past the bouncer, they headed right to the bar. This place was something.

  It was dark.

  It was dingy.

  It was someplace that perverted president would likely go if he was able to sneak out.

  It screamed of his personality.

  “She drinks free,” the bartender stated, pointing at Elizabeth. “What can I get you?”

  “Syphilis with a side of genital warts?” she asked, getting his attention.

  It took him a second.

  “Oh, Christ! We didn’t do anything. You can’t shut us down.”

  It always amazed her that when people saw her, they automatically went there. She was a Fed. She didn’t close down strip joints. That was ATF. They handled liquor violations. She handled murder.

  “Uh, not my gig. I’m here looking for a stripper.”

  He looked suspicious.

  “Why?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I thought I’d watch her bounce on my husband’s lap and then kill her since it’s a slow day in DC,” she said, pointing at the muted TV with her face all over it.

  People never ceased to amaze her.

  “Before you say something stupid, I retract that. I can see that one-legged hamster trying to make the wheel spin. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  Callen actually laughed.

  “You pictured it, right?” she asked.

  “Yep. Bitchiness is still sexy.”

  “Anyway, she’s a witness to a potential crime,” she stated. “We can’t get a home location on her. We only
know a first name and stage name.”

  He put his bar rag down and looked curious.

  “Okay, I’m with you so far, but I have a question.”

  “Only one?” she asked.

  He looked confused.

  “Never mind. Shoot. What?”

  “How does a one-legged hamster run?”

  She opened her mouth.

  “Don’t,” Callen stated. “If you explain it, that makes it less funny.”

  She agreed.

  “Let’s talk strippers.”

  “Okay, who is it?”

  “Her name is Lala. She goes by Black Magica. Have you ever heard of her? I don’t have a picture either.”

  He nodded.

  “She club hops. She will work here, and then pick up side work at another place if we aren’t making the cover charge. She’s not here now, but she’s due in later today. She works the after-work crowd.”

  “Do you know more about her like her address?”

  “No, but I know her last name. It’s Landers. She’s about six feet tall, African American—thus the name—and a little off.”

  Oh, where to take that.

  She was stripping for fat, bald, old men. She was a lot off in her book.

  “A little off?”

  “She told me once she was at the White House.”

  BINGO!

  And there was her thread.

  Elizabeth took a seat.

  “I’ll have that drink,” she stated, pulling some money from her pocket. “My husband will too. Give us two sodas. No booze. We’re on duty. Oh, and what’s your name?”

  “It’s Jonathan Sheenan.”

  Callen sat beside her, and they both waited for their drinks. When Jonathan was done pouring, they sipped them.

  “Tell us more about how off she was.”

  “Well, she told me one day that she was walking to work, and some limo pulled up.”

  Callen made notes.

  “In it was a man. He offered her some money to take a ride, and of course, she did. Black Magica was all about the money. She’d blow a turtle if he offered her a twenty.”

  That was a pretty funny picture, but Elizabeth said nothing—so the man didn’t lose his momentum.

  “She’d sell her own momma for pocket change. The woman was all about cash.”

  That was great, but she wanted more on the limo.

  “Okay, Jonathan, tell me about the limo?”

  “She said it went to the White House, she was brought in the back entrance, where the ‘help’ goes, and up to the Oval Office.”

  Elizabeth laughed.

  “She was so full of shit.”

  “Yeah, that’s some story,” she said, grateful that the man wasn’t caught up on the president’s murder. He clearly didn’t give a shit that the TV across from them was talking about Elizabeth’s case.

  Perfect.

  “Well, she was paid a shit ton of money to watch the president fuck some woman. She told me that he degraded her and laughed while doing it.”

  She lifted a brow.

  Uh, what?

  “Pardon?”

  “Magica said he was one of those pervs who liked to have someone watch. He took this person like a man strung out on the happy blue pill, and then he had sex with Magica next. She said that was why she missed work.”

  She sipped her soda.

  “Wow, that’s some story.”

  He laughed.

  “I know! She’s on something for sure. I told you she was a little off.”

  “And when does she arrive for her shift?” she asked, really needing to talk to the woman.

  He glanced at his watch.

  “With her, who knows? Most likely in a couple of hours. She’ll work the crowd, and then she starts dancing around eight. We like to give the girls equal time on the stage and in the back rooms.”

  “I bet.”

  “You know, you have really nice tits. You could…”

  Callen stopped him.

  “She’s my wife, we have kids, and you need to stop. I don’t need you painting that picture.”

  “Well, I did strip once,” she said, grinning.

  “Really?” Jonathan asked. “We have an amateur night on Mondays. You should come back, strip right out of that outfit. The men love the sexy MILF angle…”

  Callen pulled his blazer back so the man could see his gun. Oh, not his badge…his loaded and ready gun.

  “I will shoot you if you suggest it again.”

  Elizabeth laughed and tossed a twenty onto the bar for Jonathan’s help. He’d really given them a good chunk of information on Black Magica.

  They were so close now that they’d found their stripper.

  “We’ll be back later to talk to Lala. Thanks for your help, Jonathan. Oh, and for telling me I could do it.”

  He winked.

  “Anytime, sweet cheeks.”

  All the way out, Callen held her hand and wouldn’t let her go. Outside, she tried to get free.

  “Uh, death grip on my trigger finger,” she stated.

  “I don’t trust you.”

  She looked over at him.

  “Pardon?”

  “Knowing you, you’d be up on that stage shaking your ass in a heartbeat to torment me. I’m ensuring my sanity by refusing to let your hand go. I am double your body weight. I can hold my own.”

  She laughed.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, but I KNOW you.”

  She couldn’t blame him.

  He had a point.

  “Where to now?” he asked. “Are we going to waste some time until she starts work?”

  “I would like to find Ethan, get a whiteboard, and get all of this down,” she stated. “I’m intrigued by the fact that he wanted people to watch him rape someone. I’m going to assume it was rape since no sane woman would let that asshole near them with his puss-y, festering dick.”

  “You should write erotica. That was hot.”

  She snorted.

  “You don’t say.”

  “Yeah, I have nothing on you. Let’s head back in. You can get down to business.”

  Callen knew what that meant.

  She was going to start the hardest part of a case.

  Putting it all together.

  “Works for me. Home or Office?” he asked.

  In order to answer that, she needed to call Ethan. It was going to depend on whether or not he was free.

  “Let’s let the big boss man decide,” she said, dialing his personal phone. It didn’t take him long to answer.

  “Blackhawk.”

  “This is your sexy stripper calling. Can you find time to meet us at home to give us an update on the profile? I just found out some juicy tidbit that will make you want to shower in bleach,” she teased.

  “Baby, I’m about to head into a meeting. I can have it sent to the house with someone from our security. Something came up with a workplace shooting. I’m going to be tied up.”

  She understood.

  This was the nature of the beast when it came to his job.

  “Okay, handsome, then I’m going home for a little while. Later, I have to hit a strip club with Callen. We found Black Magica. She’s working tonight.”

  “Strip club, huh?”

  “Yeah, you know how I love them,” she teased. “They make me want to rock some sexy Native’s world.”

  “Lucky me,” Callen stated. “Looks like I get the horny, stripper wife, and you get the meeting with the suits.”

  “Damn it,” Ethan muttered. “I hate my job.”

  She laughed.

  “I’ll have security pick up the updated profile. Ivan and Saint are driving around behind us, making sure I’m safe. I think you can call one of them off. I’m not in danger.”

  Callen laughed.

  “Oh, that’s not exactly true,” he stated, heading toward their home. “I’m going to rough her up.”

  “Rub it in,” Ethan stated. “I still hate m
y job.”

  She laughed.

  “You can rough me up later.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Thanks, handsome. Be safe. I’m going to miss you,” she stated.

  Oh, not as much as he was going to miss them.

  She hung up.

  “Home?” Callen asked, grinning at the prospect of getting his wife trapped in their personal space.

  He even giggled.

  Oh, there was certainly no doubt why too. Callen was predictable if nothing.

  “Yes, I need something to eat and to work.”

  He lifted a brow.

  “And that’s it?”

  “Maybe I need someone to recharge my battery,” she offered, licking her lips.

  Well, that meant one thing.

  A post-noon nooner.

  And Callen James was ALWAYS down for that.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Donut Shop

  When Max parked the car, it was, indeed, in a donut shop parking lot. The cop they needed to talk to was sitting out front, having a coffee and donut.

  Alone.

  Harmony, beside him, was edgy, and he knew this wasn’t going to be easy on her. She was struggling. He could see her carotid ticking in her neck. Her heart was pounding.

  Max wanted to wrap her up and take care of her.

  “Again, are you sure you want me to do this with you?” he asked, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind. “If it’s private…”

  She glanced over at him. In his eyes, there was a calm that she only wished she felt. At that moment, she needed Max.

  For her sanity.

  “No, if he’s involved, I want someone else hearing what he has to say. I need someone objective because I may not be able to be.”

  “You loved him?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I did. Only, the song is wrong. ‘All You Need is Love’ is total BS. You need a lot more than that to make it through the storm.”

  Max felt bad.

  She was having a rough week. In that moment, he wanted to tell her that he’d love her through it all. Max wanted to protect her so badly that it was becoming an obsession.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  As they got out, Max and Harmony headed toward the table and sat down. When they did, Scott pulled off his sunglasses and ignored the man. His focus was only on her.

  “I’m glad I haven’t seen you in a while,” Scott offered, being honest with her. “When I see you, there’s this pain.”