All the King's Henchmen

by Morgan Kelley

  Ethan stared at her.

  “I’m going to get you a psych evaluation. I mean it.”

  Chris found that amusing.

  Yeah, like that was the first time someone had said that to her.

  “You can lower me. We have to open the bin. We can’t do TOD and bag her on top of a mountain of beer bottles, boxes, and crap.”

  Callen lowered him.

  “Thank you for the lift.”

  “Anytime,” he offered, patting him on the back. When he looked up, Callen saw the other ME and offered her a helping hand to the ground.

  “Wow! You’re strong.”

  “Fingerprints,” Christina said, warning her. “They show up on Native Americans really well,” she warned again.

  Elizabeth laughed.

  “Yeah, I need the evaluation. Me. Right.”

  “Can I be the one who opens it?” she asked. “It’s going to be an avalanche.”

  They all stared at her. The enthusiasm was all kinds of wrong.

  “Someone really likes her job—possibly a little too much. She and Tony will get along really well,” Elizabeth stated.

  Chris agreed.

  Yeah, the woman was over-the-top like Tony.

  Great.

  Two of them.

  “You don’t like to eat bugs, do you?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Doctor Leonard already asked me that. No, I don’t, but this is going to be awesome.”

  Chris shrugged.

  “It is pretty cool…”

  They all stepped back. The techs laid out tarps and Chris let her do the deed.

  When she pulled the pin on the front of the large bin, the door swung open and a plentitude of garbage came out.

  “Yep. Tissues, condoms, and beer bottles. I saw that coming,” she said, as their victim had a bunch of the first two items stuck to her.

  What a way to go.

  If being beaten to death wasn’t an insult enough, being dumped in a cum-filled dumpster certainly was.

  Keeping it classy, The Lumber Yard. They should put that visual on their sign.

  Chris whistled.

  “Whoever did this got messy. No pillowcase, and her face…” He used his finger to lift her ripped lip. “Her teeth are smashed out.”

  As they stood there, something moved over the toe of Elizabeth’s boot.

  She jumped into Ethan’s arms.

  “Jesus! I really hate snakes!” she shouted, as her husband caught and held her.

  “Come here often?” Ethan asked as the media took pictures not that far away. “Look what I picked up at the strip club.”

  The men laughed.

  “Jesus. I think I need a sedative. Today has been a test of my patience.”

  “It was wearing a condom,” Callen said, pointing at it as it slithered away. “Poor bastard. It’s going to suffocate.”

  She stared at him.

  “Something is so wrong with you,” she stated.

  Ethan lowered her to the ground.

  She was twitchy.

  He didn’t doubt that the next snake would get shot. He knew his wife.

  “Chris, can you shove your liver probe in her and get this show on the road? Snakes like to live by bodies. We’ve all learned that,” she said.

  Callen showed her the scar on his wrist.

  “You cut a man one time while you’re facing down a water moccasin, and you are never allowed to forget it.”

  He winked at her.

  “That day in the swamp was the best day of my life. I caught a sexy Fed.”

  “I still have the picture of her in that pink bikini under that white tank top,” Chris admitted.

  They all stared at him.

  “Oh, come on! She’s wearing my ring. Don’t judge. A guy has his fetishes.”

  She pointed at the woman.

  “Can we wrap this up? This isn’t one of my fetishes.”

  “I’m going to do the autopsy tonight,” Chris stated, checking his watch.

  “I think…”

  He stopped her.

  “You have your press conference in the morning. If I don’t do it tonight, you might miss something. I’ll be okay. I’ll be home after I get it done.”

  “Promise? I don’t want you sleeping on that couch in the morgue office. We have a perfectly comfortable bed.”

  “I promise.”

  “Uh, do you all live in the same house?” Doctor Duncan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you only have one bed?”

  Christina started humming porno music.

  “Guess who is working with you all night and NOT sleeping at home next to her Native?” Elizabeth stated. “Christina! You win the working late badge of honor for being a smart ass.”

  “SNAKE!” she shouted.

  Elizabeth practically climbed back up the front of Ethan at that one word.

  “It’s not often I get to hold my wife like this on a crime scene, but twice? I’ll buy you pizza for that one,” he offered.

  “I hate you both.”

  She focused on her ME. The liver probe was in, and he was doing the math.

  “How long has she been dead?”

  “It’s been less than two hours,” Chris stated. “I’d say closer to an hour, and you just missed talking to her.”

  “DAMN IT! Now I hate Marcus Hunter even more. Had I not had to go back to play with his nonsense, I would have had her.”

  “Want to go to a stripper’s home and search it?” Callen asked. “That always adds to the day.”

  She glanced at the crowd.

  “Are you riding shotgun?” she asked Ethan, hoping he wouldn’t be staying there out in the open. It was a little too weird that the killer slipped through their fingers.

  “If that’s an invite, I’m in,” he offered.

  That only left one thing.

  “Can we leave some security here? For Chris?” she asked. “I want him safe.”

  He protested.

  “I’ll be okay, honey.”

  She ignored him.

  As far as she was concerned, no one was sitting outside this dump without someone watching their back.

  Ethan got it.

  “Yeah, we can do that. Ivan or Wilcox? Ethan asked.

  She normally would leave Wilcox, but she knew Ivan was going to do the job better. She didn’t trust anyone but him when it came to going that extra mile.

  Chris was theirs.

  He needed to be safe.

  “Leave Ivan. I’ll suck it up and deal with Mr. Money Collector.”

  “You could just stop cursing,” Ethan offered.

  “The world could stop spinning, too, and then what? We’d fly off into space. My vernacular has a purpose.”

  To prove it, she whistled and pointed at some reporter trying to get a picture of the body.

  “Yo! Asshole. If you cross that line, I’m going to walk my ass over there, kick the shit out of you, and then laugh while doing it. Back up or you’re dead!”

  He did.

  “See? It has its purpose. When I curse, people actually listen.”

  Callen and Ethan both laughed.

  Chris wasn’t surprised.

  “Chris, be safe, stay hydrated, and see you at home later. I’m going to a stripper’s house for tea and crumpets,” she said with a British accent.

  “Really?” Dalia asked.

  “No. I’m going for needles and Syphilis,” she said, pointing at the track marks in the woman’s arms. “Be careful. No one needs to get sick!” she warned.

  As they headed off, Dalia had to know.

  “You sleep in bed with the three of them?”

  “Yes.”

  “How does that work?”

  “I get tired, and I close my eyes. Then I sleep. It’s pretty straightforward.”

  Yeah, it had been the best sleep of his life. No more earbuds, guilt, or being lonely.

  “No, I meant how? That’s three men and one woman. That’s someone spooning someone, right?”


  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to share?”

  He laughed.

  “What happens at Casa Whitefox-Blackhawk stays there,” he said.

  Christina sighed.

  She’d been trying to find out for weeks.

  And no one was talking.

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

  Alex’s Home

  Wednesday

  Seven Thirty P.M.

  He was redoing his notes, day by day. He was walking through the pages, using his memories and the highlights of his day to reconstruct what was missing on that one page.

  Most seemed insignificant, but finally, after a few hours, he figured out what was missing.

  Yeah, he knew.

  Glancing at the clock, Alex knew it was too late to be calling Elizabeth.

  Okay, that was a lie.

  She was up.

  He knew her.

  Only, he wanted to show up, grovel, and try to get back in her good graces. By morning, she might not hate his guts, and she might have calmed down.

  He didn’t want to lose his position on her team.

  Yes, he’d thought with his dick, and it got him into trouble, but from that moment forward, he wouldn’t.

  Sex would come last.

  It wouldn’t matter.

  After all, he knew he couldn’t have both. In his world, there was no hugs, kisses, or love. In his world, all he had was his job.

  Murder was his mistress.

  And he’d have to be fine with that.

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

  Hooker’s House

  LaLa Landers’s

  Apartment

  They pulled on gloves, and they were a million times more careful because of where they were. With two techs behind them, holding evidence bags, the three of them were ready to go.

  “Please be careful,” Callen stated, warning everyone. The dead stripper was an addict, and that meant one thing.

  Danger.

  They didn’t need to get sick.

  On top of that, she was letting men stick their dicks in her—and the president. He was the biggest disease they all knew.

  No one could randomly place their hands anywhere they couldn’t see the contents.

  It was dangerous.

  “I’m questioning the president’s sanity,” Ethan stated. “I get the rush of wild sex, but this is insane.”

  Callen tended to agree.

  “He stuck his dick in this woman. Look at this place,” Ethan stated. “She was all about money, but not hygiene.”

  Callen thought about it.

  “Maybe that was part of it,” he said.

  “WHAT?”

  “It was dirty. It was not sanitized. Think about it. He was the president. People did EVERYTHING for him. They made his coffee, they wouldn’t let him drive a car, he couldn’t carry a credit card. He was forced to do what everyone wanted him to do, and he was trapped. The sex…and don’t think I’m condoning it. Rape is rape. Period, but the sex was likely his outlet. He could just let all that stress and anxiety out.”

  She thought about it.

  Callen might be right.

  Out of earshot of the techs, he offered up a little of his own experience.

  “I was going to purchase a hooker once.”

  She stared at him.

  “Pardon?”

  He laughed as he shook out the contents of a drawer.

  “It was well before you. In fact, it was when Ethan and I weren’t in a good place. He still hadn’t forgiven me, I’d burned my way through most of the women on the rez, and I couldn’t get a white woman to give me the time of the day.”

  “They were crazy. You’re sexy. I would have accosted you in a heartbeat. It’s all that hair and tan skin.”

  While Callen appreciated that, he knew the truth of the matter.

  “I’m an acquired taste. Most women aren’t attracted to ethnic types. You happen to be—thank freaking God—because I have the best sex of my life.”

  She laughed.

  “Back to your hooker.”

  “Well, I drove into Damascus, and I was trying to figure out how to do it. I was a deputy on the Rez, and I knew what I was risking. Only, I couldn’t help it. I was empty.”

  Ethan hated that he’d done this to his brother.

  This was on him.

  “Well, I saw one that didn’t look too disease-y and just as I was about to drive up to her…”

  “What? Did you chicken out?” she asked, fascinated by this. She would never have thought Callen would do it. He was wild, but all he’d wanted was stability.

  He wanted a wife and family.

  “Nope. My phone rang, and it was Timothy.”

  She laughed.

  “Anyone who says the Shaman didn’t have some wicked gifts was full of it. His fingers were all over our pasts.”

  Yeah, they all knew that was the truth.

  “Yep. The old man called, and he said, ‘love yourself’. That’s all he said to me. Those two words helped me focus and I drove past her to a burger joint. I grabbed fast food, some beer, and I went home.”

  “Food is an excellent substitute for sex. I ate a lot of cupcakes when I was single.”

  He laughed.

  “I also jerked off about seven times while thinking about that woman I drew in my notebook—you. In fact, I have never jerked off more to anyone but you. That’s love.”

  She stared at him.

  “And yet I can’t take you past two orgasms, and you’re begging for a nap.”

  She made him laugh.

  Yeah, that was unconditional love. Callen didn’t have to pretend. She loved him as is.

  Damage and all.

  He gave her a kiss.

  “The point is, I hated myself. Maybe he hated his life so much, that he was trying to destroy it. Sully it up. Make it real so he could feel.”

  She didn’t care.

  He was a pig for raping women.

  Period.

  If he wanted to vagina dive in hookers, that was on him. If he wanted to sneak them in, that was on him. Rape…not cool.

  “He’s a different story. You can be as dirty as you need to be, Callen, and I’ll never bat an eye. Why? You don’t rape women, and you don’t hurt me. I’m an active participant. He stole that choice from Harmony, the senator, and the mystery woman who Black Magica watched him force himself on.”

  He was aware.

  It was just an observation. They needed to figure out who could be this pissed at someone.

  They made their way to the bedroom.

  It was a nightmare.

  There were dirty clothes all over.

  “I’m going to be ill,” she stated, pointing at panties all over the floor. “Stripper panties, and not the good kind,” she muttered.

  Ethan double gloved his hands.

  This was going to be dirty work.

  Callen headed toward the dresser.

  “I’ll take one for the team,” he stated.

  He pulled the top drawer open, and there were tons of panties. As he went to reach into the drawer, she grabbed his arm.

  “DON’T!”

  He stopped.

  “I swear I won’t enjoy it,” he promised, laughing. “I’m dirty, but not that dirty.”

  She shook her head.

  “I worked a case once. The hooker put her drug paraphernalia in her panty drawer. Most druggies put it where the cops can’t find it. Who, in their right mind, is going to dig through a stripper’s britches drawer?”

  She had a point.

  “When the cops do reach in, the criminals get the last laugh when the cops get HIV. Slow your roll.”

  That freaked him out.

  “Everyone has that one place where they hide all their secret things. Dump it and go through it that way. Do it for my peace of mind.”

  Callen pulled the drawer, and he emptied the contents onto the bed.

  Sur
e enough…

  She’d been right.

  There were needles, little packets of heroin and a black book the size of the one Callen carried around to scribble down ideas.

  His heart thumped.

  He would have been stuck by a needle had Elizabeth not stopped him. Sometimes, he forgot that she’d been doing this a lot longer than him. He forgot that she’d experienced so much in her nearly two decades being a Fed.

  She wasn’t just a pretty face.

  She was tough.

  She was intelligent.

  She was aware.

  “And that is why we don’t go putting our hands in a stripper’s panty drawer,” she stated, as a tech picked up all of the needles and carefully placed them in the bag.

  Callen grabbed the book.

  He flipped through the pages.

  “We found something.”

  She moved closer.

  “What?”

  He showed her a page so she could read it for herself. It was a diary of sorts.

  ‘He had me brought to the White House. Me! There! It was a hoot. I was brought up the back way, into his private spot, and he had me do all kinds of dirty things to him. He loved it. I think I’m going to be going back. He asked if I’d like to watch. Hell, yeah! Watch my wallet grow. It was weird. He didn’t get off. He said he was saving it for someone. I feel bad for his wife. If he was going to fuck later, she was in for a wild ride. The old man was horny as hell, and I was a grand richer. I was brought back, I skipped work, and I fattened my bank account. I hope I go back again. The man is a sicko, but I like the money.’

  Callen handed her the book.

  “We have something for the team to read. I doubt his wife was his target after the fact. We need to find out who that mystery woman was. I have a feeling she’s going to be the center of this.”

  “You have a thought, don’t you?”

  “The senator is a good choice, but she was raped this past Friday. We know Harmony was raped six years ago. Is there a date?”

  Callen shook his head.

  “Nope.”

  Great.

  This was going to be fun.

  “Yeah, we’ll pass this off for tomorrow. I need to head home, shut it down, and get to sleep. I have that press conference in the morning.”