Deep Dark Mire (An FBI Romance Thriller ~ book four)

by Kelley, Morgan

  “You can’t leave the swamp in a bra, Tori,” he said, laughing and then pulled his shirt off for her. “You did the dive; I at least can give you my shirt.”

  “Thanks, Julian!” Tori swapped with him, and slid into his shirt. It smelled like him and heated her body, reminding her of the night before.

  “Come on. Elizabeth and Ethan are going to love what you found,” he said, grinning.

  “I certainly hope so.” It amazed her that everyone seemed to be on a first name basis with her bosses, and yet she found that staggering. It was ballsy to call them by their first names, but then again, maybe that was just because of her background. You certainly didn’t call your superiors by their given names.

  Julian wanted to get back as soon as possible. When he could get Ethan alone, he had a few questions for him. The biggest one on his mind was ‘who the hell was Tori Christensen?’

  * * *

  Suspects tended to be edgy and jumpy, but the man sitting before all three of them was ready to bolt. It wasn’t like they just accused him of killing anyone. Well, not out loud and to anyone quite yet. This time it was all about his father.

  Ethan Blackhawk leaned against the wall in one of the sheriff’s interrogation rooms. As his wife did the talking, he was doing the assessing. It piqued his interest as to why the man looked so rattled.

  Granted they stirred him up the other day, but no more than any other suspect in any other assignment.

  “Tell me about your dad, Jonathan,” asked Elizabeth, dropping the heels of her boots on the corner of the table. She was very comfortable in an interrogation room; in fact, she loved this part of her job. Who wouldn’t? Scaring the potential bad guys was always entertaining and if it got justice for the fallen, well worth it.

  “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. He’s an old man. Dad’s been the minister for a long time. I think my whole life.”

  Elizabeth stared at the man. “Where can we find him?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t live at home with him. How the hell am I supposed to know what he’s doing right now?”

  Whitefox slid the man’s phone across the table. “Call him and tell him that we request the pleasure of his presence. We’ll even come to him.”

  He shrugged and dialed his dad’s number. “Dad, it’s Jonathan. The FBI needs to talk to you about some things. Can you meet with them?”

  He paused, listening to the answer and then looked up at them. “He’s on his way to the church to start working on Sunday’s sermon.”

  “We’ll meet him there.”

  Jonathan Delray relayed that to his father, and then hung up the phone. “Anything else, or can I actually go back to my job?” he asked, standing. “I’m assuming I’m not under arrest.”

  “You're free. Have a really fantastic day,” smiled Elizabeth, watching the man closely. When he left the room he slammed the door behind him, and Elizabeth laughed. “My, my, he’s stirred up.”

  “You did knock him out a few times, Lyzee. That might stir up the hornets’ nest a bit,” offered her husband.

  “Or that you scared him the other day by making him believe you were going to water board him,” suggested Whitefox, grinning.

  Elizabeth shrugged noncommittally. “I scare a lot of people. Suspects, minions, and sometimes the men in my life on a good day. I’m just a scary bitch.”

  Both men laughed knowing the truth. Elizabeth Blackhawk was a big softy once you got past the shell.

  The three exited the station to their waiting rental. It was another Escalade, and this time Ethan Blackhawk moved in front of his wife before hitting the lock disengage- just in case. When it didn’t blow up, he allowed her to move past him. Yeah, it was silly that he was bothering. Chances were the bomber wouldn’t ‘accidentally’ attach the bomb to the wrong wires again, but just in case, it gave him a small measure of reassurance.

  Elizabeth chose to ignore how both men were acting like a shield. Now she needed to focus on the problem at hand.

  Who had it in for the Adare family?

  Sitting in the back, Elizabeth pulled out all the papers she had with her. Something had to be in the journal that belonged to Trinity Adare. There had to be some little tidbit that she was missing. As she read, her husband drove them towards the church.

  “Anything?” questioned Whitefox.

  “No, and it’s making me crazy. She talks about God, and being dedicated to the ‘father’. I sincerely doubt God came down and hid the bodies in the swamp. I mean, he’s God. Can’t he just snap and they ‘poof’?”

  They both knew when she was frustrated; Elizabeth used sarcastic humor to alleviate her stress when she was overwhelmed.

  “All I have in this journal is that she thinks Mr. Sexy is a ball of sexual fun and hot in the sack. Apparently, he’s dedicated to the ‘father’ and she’s been with him for a while. What I need is a whiteboard and to write it all down. I think better when it’s staring at me in the face.”

  “I can commandeer one and have it set up in the spare room of the bed and breakfast for you,” offered Blackhawk.

  “Yeah, please. I need one. I also need some profiling insight from you tonight too.”

  “What can I help you with, Lyzee?” queried Whitefox. Both of his family had their special talents. Ethan was a legend at Quantico for his profiling. Rarely was he wrong, once he honed in on the suspect. He was scary accurate when he gave his assessment. Elizabeth was genius when she put the little pieces together. The tiny threads she grasped at, soon became woven together into the full tapestry they needed to find the killer. He’d hoped he’d learn from them both, and one day stop being the ‘newbie’ and figure out his own talent.

  “Tonight, we need to rip this journal apart, and get that board together. I feel like I’m missing something. Maybe it’s tiny, but I have that feeling in the back of my brain that it’s important. I need a fresh set of eyes looking at the information. Maybe you can extract something I’m obviously missing.”

  “No problem, angel.”

  Blackhawk parked the Escalade. “We’re here.”

  “Let’s go kick around some religious guy.”

  Ethan grinned at his wife. “Don’t enjoy this too much.”

  “I’ll try,” she replied, before she dropped her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose.

  * * *

  Friday Noon

  Julian Littlemoon and Special Agent Tori Christensen pulled up to the ME offices and stepped out of their rental. They had a special delivery to make, and they knew it could very well help blow the assignment wide open. When the bosses saw this, there were going to be happy faces all around.

  Or at least they hoped there would be.

  Agent Christensen carried the bag of treasures into the lab and dropped it on the lab table.

  Everyone stared. She was sludge covered and Julian Littlemoon was shirtless. They had to be a spectacle.

  “What’s in the bag, Agent?” inquired Chris Leonard, moving towards them.

  “We went diving and found us some treasure Doctor. Have you seen the Blackhawks? They’re going to want to see this.”

  Doctor Tony Magnus gloved up and handed a pair to his teammate. “They’re out in the field looking for the killer.”

  “You found the bomber’s stash!” Now all the techs were milling around the table. Excitement filled the room as the hive went on alert, and the worker bees began the exploration.

  “Yes we did. If we can leave it with you and bail, I need a shower and to de-leech,” she said, turning to walk away.

  “If this was sealed in the bag that means there’s probably tons of trace.”

  “Someone tell the Blackhawks that Christmas came early.”

  Julian followed the woman out to their rental car. “You did really good work today, Tori.”

  She looked over and nodded. “Thank you, Julian, but we both know I wouldn’t have found the bag if you didn’t track the bomber.”

  “I guess we make a really
good team,” he added.

  Special Agent Tori Christensen just nodded. Part of her was intrigued by that statement, and the other half made her panic as she thought about her last person she let into her life.

  Sometimes you just couldn’t let history repeat itself by getting too close to anyone ever again.

  * * *

  The man that sat before them looked every day his seventy years. He was slow moving, his hands were gnarled, and he didn’t look like he was long for the Earth. When he smiled with his gray chaotic hair, he reminded Elizabeth of some mad scientist. Hopefully his mind was in better shape than his body.

  “Please Agents, have a seat. I’d offer you some coffee, but my office aid isn't in yet. Honestly, I have no clue where she puts anything in the church kitchen.” He delicately sat. “I’m Jefferson Delray, and I’m the minister here.”

  It wasn’t lost on any of them that the man appeared to be in complete and total pain with every move.

  “That’s quite alright, Mr. Delray. We’re not here for a social call. We’re here because we need your help with some background information on an assignment we’re working right now.”

  “My son mentioned that the FBI wanted to see me. I don’t know what it could be pertaining to; I’m at a loss here.”

  Blackhawk had been observing the man closely, and noticed his words weren’t entirely true. The man knew exactly why they were here. It was clearly there right in his eyes. The old man must have received a second call from his son when they left the sheriff’s station, as a heads up.

  “Do you recall a member of your church named Trinity Adare?” inquired Elizabeth, watching his eyes. They were a cool shade of aqua, almost between an icy blue and a serene green. “We believe she was in contact with someone from the church about twenty five years ago.”

  “Yes, I do recall Miss Adare. She was a very sweet woman, and she spent a great deal of time coming to church.”

  Whitefox leaned forward. “Who was she visiting at the church?”

  “God for one. Ms. Adare was very curious about God and his plan for all of us. She came to services every week for years. I believe she sat in the third pew back every Sunday service religiously. I remember looking out at her often and thinking that I was glad she found her way to the Lord.”

  Elizabeth found his statement curious. The daughter of a bayou witch was coming to church weekly. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

  “You said God, but who else was she seeing?”

  “We had some counseling sessions. So, I guess me. We would meet every Monday afternoon. She just wandered in one day, feeling like she needed a better relationship with God. We talked about her mother, and how she couldn’t come out to her.”

  Okay, that was mildly entertaining to Elizabeth. Usually it was the Christians persecuting the Pagans and not the other way around. Who knew that Trinity was hiding a deep dark secret from her own mother? This was all very interesting indeed.

  “Did she say why she didn’t feel like she could come out to her mother?” inquired Blackhawk. “She was a grown woman and I’m sure her mother would have accepted that her daughter was happy finding God.”

  “One would think, Agent. But she told me that her mother was especially anti-Christianity. When she discovered she was pregnant, Trinity continued counseling the entire time.”

  This was the direction that they needed to be heading. Elizabeth felt the buzz in the back of her head, alerting her that they were on the right path.

  “Mr. Delray, did she ever tell you who the father of her children was?” If they could find out who fathered Cordelia and Desdemona Adare, then it might lead back to who killed Trinity.

  “Never once, but honestly I never asked. She wasn’t exactly distraught over being pregnant. She was very happy, and I never thought to ask. It really wasn’t my business. God works in mysterious ways, and I’m sure the children were here for a reason.”

  Yeah, Cordelia was to end up dead thirty some years later. “She was an unwed mother, and that has to fit under a commandment somewhere,” added Elizabeth Blackhawk. “Your interest wasn’t piqued a little bit to know who in your flock went forth and multiplied not once but twice?”

  Jefferson Adare started laughing, not the least bit insulted. “Of course I was curious, Agent. I just didn’t ask. My job as minister here is to lead the flock to Jesus, not to ask who they’re sleeping with in their private lives. Besides, I doubt she’d tell me. Did she tell her mother?”

  “We don’t believe so,” Elizabeth answered. “It seems to be a secret she took to her grave.” Yeah, minus clues left in a journal that was making her completely insane, as she tried to decipher the meanings.

  Blackhawk glanced up from scribbling something down. “Then she had the baby and what happened?”

  The man leaned back and tried to think back. “I believe she became pregnant again after, and again she was happy. I continued counseling her on a weekly basis. There was talk of bringing her children to church, but it never happened.”

  “Why?” asked Whitefox, but he probably could have guessed, and he figured it had everything to do with Morgana Adare and her religious beliefs.

  “Her mother forbade it, and she chose to listen. It was rather sad; both of those girls could have had a close relationship with God and maybe found their father in the process.”

  Before Elizabeth could ask her next question, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” he called, glancing over.

  The man that came in looked familiar and she couldn’t quite place it. He stared at them all curiously.

  “Dad, do you need anything?” he asked, standing beside the older man.

  “Agents, this is my son Vincent. He runs the parish homeless shelter. I’m very proud of him,” he stated, smiling up at the man. “He’s followed in his father’s footsteps and doing the Lord’s work daily.”

  Elizabeth stood and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Delray. We were supposed to meet with you the other day. I’m sorry we missed you.”

  He smiled warmly. “I’m sorry about that, but I travel considerably for work. We sponsor other shelters and sometimes I have to pop in and make sure that the people we’re caring for are receiving the proper attention. With today’s economy, there are so many in need. We just want to help as many out as we can.”

  “I couldn’t be prouder of you, Vincent,” added the minister. “I love all my children, but Vincent has blessed me with his love of helping people.”

  Elizabeth sat and crossed her legs. “That’s very admirable, Mr. Delray. We’d like to finish up here with your father, and then if possible we can sit and talk after.”

  “I’ll be outside,” he answered. “I need to get some of the yard work done before the Sunday service.” He nodded at his father, walking out and closing the door behind him to give the agents some privacy.

  “I don’t understand why you three need to talk to my sons. I spoke to Jonathan today after he called. He told me about his relationship with Cordelia Adare. You can’t possibly believe that he had anything to do with her death.”

  Blackhawk shrugged. “Mr. Delray, we have the responsibility to find the truth. Sometimes we have to ask quite a few questions to get those answers.”

  The older man pulled out a bottle of pain reliever from his desk. “I’m sorry, but could I bother you to open this?” he asked, looking at Elizabeth. “I have terrible arthritis, and unfortunately it’s eating away all my joints. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to carry on my work here in Cypress Grove.”

  Elizabeth stood and took the bottle from him, popped it open and then dropped a few pills into his gnarled hand. Sliding the glass closer to him, she returned to her seat.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us about Trinity Adare?” she asked, re-crossing her legs and waiting.

  “One day she just stopped coming around. Word traveled around the town that she fell into the swamp and was eaten. It was a horrible thing.
The congregation helped search for her, but in the end we couldn’t find her. No one could.”

  “She didn’t fall into the swamp. Trinity was murdered and someone placed her where she wouldn’t be found. Then her daughter was placed right by her side. That isn't accidental or coincidental. It’s a giant swamp and someone put them together for a reason.”

  Jefferson Delray looked horrified. “I hope you find the murderer then. Our Lord tells us in the sixth commandment that ‘Thou shall not kill’. It’s a shame the things people do to each other.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t disagree with that. She’d seen pretty much everything in her time as an FBI agent. When her phone beeped, she looked down and read the screen. “We need to get going, the team just found something big to break this wide open,” she stated, for the sake of the men on her team who didn’t see the message.

  All three stood, and one by one they shook the man’s hand gently.

  Outside the church, Elizabeth placed the sunglasses back on her face. The excitement coursed through her body.

  “Okay, spill it.”

  Elizabeth tossed him her phone. When he read it, he grinned too and passed it to Whitefox. Finding all the wires and the bomber’s bag of tricks was going to give them what they needed. He was sure of it.

  “Heads up,” Blackhawk whispered.

  Vincent Delray approached them.

  “Mr. Delray, we just have a few questions if you don’t mind?” Whitefox stared at the man, studying him. When his gaze flicked over to Elizabeth, he could tell she was thinking pretty much the same thing. Something was bothering them both about the man. It was like he’d seen him somewhere before. His instinct was piqued.

  “I don’t know exactly what I can tell you about Trinity Adare. I was a kid when she disappeared. I don’t think I was any more than maybe thirteen at the most.”

  “Did you see her at church with anyone?” Elizabeth inquired, watching his face. There was something she was missing.