Still, he tried to ‘acquire’ her anytime he could be around her.
Yeah, Blackhawk hated that.
“Tex, don’t get shot. Ivan is off his game.”
She was well aware.
And later, she’d fix that too.
Because she was in charge of this whole damn mess.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Friday Afternoon
Landon Turner’s
Home
They headed toward his home in the middle of the suburbs. Since she had every intention of sending Ivan off to fix his relationship later, they took separate vehicles. Besides, she wanted to be alone with Callen.
So she could sexually harass him.
“You look sexy today,” she stated, leaning over to tease his ear with her teeth.
His heart thumped in his chest.
“Someone is in a good mood,” he said, as she drove him wild as he tried to navigate the busy traffic.
“I am. I have some fine Native men in my life,” she began. “I’m a lucky girl.”
“And Chris.”
The way he said it was off. She could hear it in his voice. Callen was tense.
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged.
Elizabeth pulled off her sunglasses and stared at him, so he could see that she wasn’t going to tolerate that ambivalence.
Something was up.
There were the tension lines around his mouth.
“Callen, denial is the same as lying. Isn’t that what you said to me once?”
He had.
Only, this was a touchy subject, and while he’d discussed it with Ethan, this was a whole different situation.
How did he say this without sounding like a bag of dicks? It was dangerous ground.
“I can’t help but worry that I’ll lose you, and it has me feeling edgy.”
Okay, at least he was talking about it. That was a start.
“You think you’ll lose me to Chris?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He’s your new wounded bird, and we all know how you feel about your sympathy cases.”
Ouch.
That hurt.
“Callen.”
“It’s true, and you know it. I was that wounded bird.”
There.
It was said.
She stared at him.
“I see.”
Callen glanced over, and she was staring out the window. It upset him that he’d said that to her, but it was the truth. She wanted them to be honest.
“I feel replaceable.”
“When we get back to the house, I’ll tell him that he and Bethe have to move home. I’ll kick him out for you,” she said.
He parked the vehicle outside the man’s home and turned in his seat.
“I didn’t ask you to…”
She cut him off.
“You’re asking me to choose. I get it. You feel threatened, and you’re asking me to pick the man I love more. You win. You get my heart. I’ll handle my past.”
He was surprised.
This wasn’t what he’d expected.
“I will say that I didn’t expect this from you. I figured Ethan was going to be the one who struggled with this. I just assumed you’d see it from his perspective. When you were the one on the outside looking in, you felt lost. I was just trying to give Chris some peace. He’s dying.”
“Technically, we all are,” he said, trying to be funny.
“Yeah, so let’s not be compassionate because of that technicality.”
He felt bad.
“You win, Callen James. I love you more. You have my heart, and he knows it. I only wanted to give him peace while he was still here. I was his long before you or Ethan. By the miracle of his mistake, you have me.”
She went to get out.
“Elizabeth.”
“Sit there, Callen. I’m going to handle this interview. I don’t really want to be anywhere near you. I may love you more and be willing to hurt someone for you, but I don’t have to like it. Then again, that’s the power you have over me, right?”
He was shocked.
He watched her hop down and head for the house. Ivan tapped on his window.
“Uh, lose something?”
“She’s doing this interview alone,” he offered, trying to stay calm. “Follow her.”
Callen was torn.
And he didn’t like it one bit.
There were warning bells going off in his head, and he couldn’t help but think that his sharing of what was in his heart was going to come back and bite him.
Big time.
At the door, Ivan had her back.
She knew she shouldn’t be fighting Callen on something like this, simply because it was a lot to ask of him and Ethan. She understood how he was feeling, and she respected it.
Callen, after all, was always there to lift her up, and she was struggling with all of this too.
Now more so that she felt backed into a corner and had to choose between them.
“Are you okay?” Ivan asked.
“Yeah, I’m great. Let’s get this done.”
Instead of focusing on her personal mess, she knocked on the door and got ready to do her damn job.
When it opened, a man stood there. He was clearly drunk and disorderly. In fact, Elizabeth could smell pot wafting from the house.
“Mr. Turner, we need to talk to you about your ex-girlfriend, Beverly Sampson.”
He stared at her.
“What did that bitch say I did now?” he asked, drinking the beer he’d poured into a thick glass mug.
“Nothing. She’s dead.”
And that when it went bad. The second the words were out of her mouth, the man lost it.
Landon Turner apparently didn’t like the news because with the mug, he swung out, dousing her with beer, right before he hit her in the head with the mug.
It was one hell of a hit.
Elizabeth fell backward, flipping over the rail and hitting the ground with a thud.
Ivan was on him before he could even open his mouth. He tackled him and had him zip tied.
“You’re a dead man,” Ivan promised.
The man was down and restrained as Callen came racing toward his wife on the ground. When he rolled her over, she had a gash on her head and was out cold.
That was all it took.
Ivan now had to keep Callen from vaulting the rail and killing the man.
Today was a bad day for him to be the only security on these two. Elizabeth was down.
Callen was ready for blood.
And the asshole on the ground was talking smack.
The universe hated Ivan.
Here was his proof.
So much for it getting better.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Fort Whitefox-Blackhawk
After they headed to the hotel and checked the detective out, Chris directed him toward the Blackhawks’ home. As he sat in the front seat of the man’s sporty ride, Chris was glad to be heading home.
Not his old brownstone—even though it held fond memories, but to the fort.
Where he would be safe and loved.
“Can I ask you a few questions?” Max asked, breaking his silence.
“Sure, Detective Chase, feel free,” Chris offered. After all, he was a captive audience, and he didn’t doubt there was a reason Elizabeth had sicced the detective on him.
She didn’t want him alone.
Chris wasn’t an idiot.
“It’s Max.”
“Okay, Max.”
“Why is she having me stay here?” he asked. “That’s really weird.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. Was this a trap?
A trick?
Was she trying to tell him something?
It was making him nuts as he tried to figure out why she sent him home—to her home—and early.
The other two feds were still working at the Hoover building.
“I don’t know if I’d call it weird,” Chris admitted. “After all, I live there with her.”
That surprised him.
“Uh…”
What did he say to that?
Yes, he’d seen the news and media reports, and the man beside him was in them, along with Elizabeth. They called him ‘husband number three’.
Was there some validity behind it?
“Next question?” Chris asked, wondering if the man would have the balls to ask what he was thinking.
Or would he be polite?
“Did you know my dad?” Max asked, switching it up. No one’s sex life was any of his business.
None at all.
Chris thought back to his youth and the beginning days at the FBI. He recalled the man’s father.
“Yeah, I met him a few times. He was an interesting character. I did his autopsy. It was a hard day for all of us when he was killed—especially Elizabeth. She took it as a personal affront that the man went down on her watch. She’s been rooting for you since that day.”
And it was true.
“He didn’t suffer, right? That shot…”
It sickened him to even think about it.
Chris had dealt with victims’ families before. He knew how to answer that, and even though a lot of the time it was a lie, this time it wouldn’t be.
A chest shot?
It hurt.
A shot to the brain?
Not so much.
“No, Max, he would have died instantly.”
Chris could still picture it in his mind. Max’s father had been missing a big chunk of his head. The bullet blew off the portion of the skull and sent brains spraying out from beneath his riot helmet.
Max needed that.
“We’re going to get O’Banion, right? She’s as good as they say, right? That’s why I came here.”
Chris knew the cold hard facts.
When justice needed to be done, Elizabeth would get to her goal, no matter what the obstacles in her way. She was three days past tenacious.
“Yes, he’ll have his justice. Elizabeth always gets the bad guy. You can put money on it.”
“I hope so. I want to get my father what he deserves, and O’Banion what he deserves. I really want to finally end this nightmare.”
“I totally understand that,” Chris said. “Justice is very important.”
“Is she having me stay here to keep her eye on me?” he asked. “Is that why she’s doing it?”
“Well, one never knows why Elizabeth does the things she does, but you can ask her. I’ve found in the nearly two decades that I’ve known her that when she’s asked a question, she doesn’t shy away from it.”
He was glad.
He might just do that.
“That’s our home,” Chris said, pointing at the big wrought iron gate. “You will have to be checked out by gate security.”
He stared at the house that loomed up behind the security checkpoint.
“Well, that’s big.”
Chris laughed. “We have seven kids under that roof. It has to be big.”
Max could only imagine that would be the case. He’d grown up an only child, and he didn’t know where to even go with that.
As Max rolled up to the gate, armed security stopped them and tapped on the windows.
Max rolled them down.
The second they saw Chris in the front seat, they relaxed. Reggie and Buck were on gate duty.
“Doc, are you getting a ride home?” Buck asked from his post.
“Yes, and Elizabeth should have called ahead. The detective will be staying with us.”
Buck pulled out the visitor’s list, and they had a name.
“ID please,” he said, holding out his hand.
Max offered up his photo ID, beside his badge.
Buck studied it.
“You’re good, but you have to step out. We do a full cavity search.”
Max sputtered.
Chris laughed.
“She tells them to scare the guests,” Chris said. “It’s only a pat down. You’re good,” he offered.
God!
He hoped so.
The man did what he was asked, and then a wand was swept over his body.
“You’re good, Detective. You won’t need a scan next time,” he said, as the detective got back into his vehicle.
Only, there was barking as a big German Shepherd sniffed around the car and then hopped in through Chris’s window. The dog crawled across his body and into the back seat.
“Uh…you lost something,” Max stated, staring at the dog in the rearview mirror.
Security laughed.
So did Chris.
“It looks like Kanje is done working for the day, Buck. I’ll take him up to the house.”
The man grinned.
“Damn! Now I have no one to keep me warm in the guard shack,” he teased. “Bye doggo. See you tomorrow.”
Max still didn’t move.
“Uh, is he friendly?” he asked, hoping the giant dog didn’t bite strangers. He could see the dog watching him in the mirror.
Like…‘I’m going to have a snack’, watching him.
“Yeah, he’s never bitten anyone who was on the up and up,” Buck offered. “Unfortunately, he’s got a one-track mind. You smell like his momma, so you came in contact with her.”
Max nodded.
“I did.”
“Well, you passed the Kanje test too. Be on your way,” Buck stated, as the man rolled up his windows a little hesitantly.
No one blamed him.
The dog was huge.
“You can relax,” Chris offered. “That’s one of Elizabeth’s dogs. He’s Kanje. Sungila is at the house doing whatever he does when we all go to work. He’s more the kid babysitter. Kanje likes to patrol.”
Max took it all in.
Huge house.
Security.
Guard dogs.
This was no freaking joke. The Blackhawks liked to be safe.
“Oh, and a warning,” Chris said.
“What?”
Max couldn't imagine what he was going to warn him about.
“Sungila is the shoe eater. Watch yours. He will find them.”
“Thanks, I think.”
He drove them through the gate, and it was hard to ignore that the dog’s snout was right by his ear and breathing on him. Max wasn’t a pet person since he never had one as a kid, and this dog was actually so close that his breath was making his ear wet.
God!
What the hell was he doing?
Max was never so glad to get out of the car until Sungila came running toward him.
“Holy shit!” Max said as the other German Shepherd stopped in front of him, looked up at him, and then licked his face as he stood on his back paws.
Chris laughed.
“He likes you,” Chris said, carrying his medical bag toward the house. “You’re good. Again, you smell like their momma. They won’t hurt you.”
Max was glad.
Inside, Chris whistled and there was a herd of kids heading his way.
“Hey, kids!” Chris said as they all took turns hugging him. He knew why they were being all lovey-dovey.
He was no one’s fool.
“Uncle Chris! Uncle Chris! Do you have candy?” EJ asked, grabbing his bag for him.
Oh, they were not going to like this.
At all.
“I have bad news, kiddos. I’m on a diet, and your momma took it away.”
“Man!” EJ said, looking really disappointed.
They were all looking up at the stranger, and moving closer to Max. They were about to frisk him for sweets.
He could tell.
Chris took that moment to introduce him to the Blackhawk tribe. He hoped Max was patient. It took a special kind of crazy to survive in the chaos that was their lives.
“This is EJ, Cat, and Christopher An
thony. They are Callen’s children.”
Max was not child-friendly, so he held out his hand to shake theirs.
How else did you greet kids?
Chris laughed as the boys licked their hands and then shook his hand. They were at that age where they liked to gross everyone out.
Boys would be boys.
It worked with keeping track of their cookies, so…
Chris continued, “This is CJ and Charlie. They are Ethan’s children.”
He knew he’d never remember names.
Never.
“Hey,” he said, still watching the dogs as they stared at him from right behind the kids. It was like they were guarding them against someone trying to snatch them.
Well, he never would.
EVER.
“This is Bethe. She’s mine and Elizabeth’s child,” he said, trying it out. It felt good. His little girl finally had what had been tragically stolen from her.
“Oh.”
The look on his face said it all, and he didn’t stop him from thinking it.
“Where momma?” Bethe asked as she played with her father’s bow tie.
“She’s at work, and she missed you all last night. She’ll be home a little later.”
He gave her a kiss and put her down with the rest of the kids, so they could do their thing.
Mayhem.
Chris could see it coming.
“Where’s granddad?” he asked.
There were war whoops as the tribe ignored him and bolted from the room. Where they went, the dogs were right behind them.
“Well, that’s…something,” Max stated.
“No siblings, huh?” Chris asked.
Max shook his head.
“I’ve never been around kids before. I’m more a teenager kind of guy. You know, video games, sports…”
He got it.
“Well, I have bad news for you.”
“What?” he asked.
“You’re bunking with them,” Chris teased. “Pick a kid,” he offered. “You get the top bunk.”
The man’s face said it all.
He was horrified.
Chris was amused as hell.
“Welcome to our home.”
Max didn’t know what the hell to think. All he could do was pray he was joking.
Dead are Forgotten Page 28
