Chris snickered, as he did the swabs. “You're done and for the record, tequila is no one’s friend.”
“Amen,” muttered Elizabeth.
Tori laughed.
“Get me the results fast,” requested Elizabeth, releasing her hand.
Quickly Christina dressed. When she was finished she grabbed the samples and ran for the other room, pausing at the door but not looking back at them. “Is it wrong that I don’t want it to be a match?”
Elizabeth grinned. “No, it’s not at all.”
She released the breath she was holding. “Give me an hour to run it. I’ll process it as fast as possible.”
Tori started for the lab door. “We better go keep an eye on the men. I don’t like the idea of all that testosterone sitting in one room just waiting. Someone’s liable to do something stupid.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Don’t I know it?”
The three men sat there waiting for the women to join them. Christina’s offer to submit to a swab might be the defining moment of the investigation. It could possibly take a suspect off the list or hand them the killer.
At the knock on the door, the men glanced over. It wasn’t Elizabeth and Tori but Chief Longtree.
“Come on in, Rick,” Blackhawk said, making the motion.
“We have a problem,” he said, picking up the remote to the TV and turning it on. “I just got a call from the council. Someone’s spread the death of Chief Soaring Eagle to every local TV station.”
They all watched it unfold on the news.
Just then, Elizabeth and Tori walked in the room and stared up at the TV. The reporter was handing out the sensitive information regarding the killing like candy on Halloween.
“Son of a bitch!” she exclaimed, irritated. “How did they get that information?”
Ethan could feel the heat rising up his neck. This made them look bad; like unprofessional idiots. Any minute now his phone would be ringing and Gabe Rothschild, his boss would be on a rampage.
Longtree didn’t look happy either. “I have no idea. You asked earlier if we sent out an update email to the local news, I checked and nothing is logged as going out in the sent files.”
She shook her head. “Who has access to the email account?”
Rick closed his eyes. “I do, as do my officers. Any office staff has access.”
Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. “Is it password protected?”
The man looked sick to his stomach. “Yes and No.”
None of them knew what he was getting at. “I don’t understand,” stated Callen. “Email generally needs a password to access it.”
He tried to explain and keep the agents calm. “You have to understand. We don’t have a great deal of crime here. The email account password is on a post-it note stuck to the side of the computer.”
If Elizabeth could, she’d slap the shit out of the man for being plain stupid. “I’m going to breathe deeply and count to twenty. By then, maybe I’ll have control of my incredibly violent temper.”
Blackhawk stared at the man. “You need to question your men. If an email went out, it had to be one of them,” he didn’t have to say anything more. It was obvious to everyone in the room, including the police chief what Blackhawk was implying.
“You suspect one of my people, don’t you?”
Elizabeth was nowhere near twenty yet, and ignored everything he was saying.
Callen stepped in as mediator. “Chief, look at it from our perspective. First, the media is alerted and the skinning detail is released. Only your staff and ours knew that detail. We held it back, to make sure there were no copycats.”
Longtree still wasn’t happy.
“The feather was released to them too. We’re trying our best to not assume the worst here, but we have a big problem.” Callen watched Elizabeth regaining control.
“I don’t see how that ties my people to this.”
Blackhawk rolled his head; the tension in his neck was slowly causing a headache to brew. “On the feather we found with Sheriff Duffy, there was trace. It was the chemical we use to clean up after an autopsy. That means that someone in this building had access to the chemical, most likely inadvertently and then placed the feather on the body.”
Rick wasn’t ready to believe it was one of his people. “Maybe your lab techs screwed up.”
Callen eyed up Elizabeth, waiting for the nuclear explosion. She didn't like people pointing blame at her team, unless they were indeed guilty.
Blackhawk crossed his arms, understanding where the man was coming from, and then he thought about the woman that just went the extra step to give them DNA on one of his men. “You know if my people didn’t do this day in and day out, I’d consider it a possibility, because accidents happen. Unfortunately for you and your theory, I know them and they’re meticulous when it comes to processing. Someone was in the lab, touched a table, getting the solution on their hands and then proceeded to handle the feather.”
He went to speak and was cut off.
Elizabeth was back in control, mostly. “You’re the only one other than our staff that knows that. We’ve had that detail two days now. It never got leaked. Want to bet if we tell your staff, the killer is alerted along with the media?”
The man didn’t look happy. “I’ll go talk to my officers and discuss the importance of keeping their mouths shut.”
“If the chemical detail gets out, we might as well pack up our shit and head home,” drawled Elizabeth. “We need that one detail to keep the killer from knowing we’re on to him. So, if it gets out, we know who couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.”
He stepped towards her, fists clenched and anger brewing in his gut. His intent was clear in his eyes. The tolerance of the FBI was wearing thin.
Both men stood, alerting him that it would be a really bad idea to make any hostile move towards their pregnant woman.
“I’ll let you know what I find,” he said, as he opened the door. “For the record, I think you’re wrong about the killer working here in the building.” With that he slammed the door.
“Well that was ugly,” Tori said, leaning against the wall. “What’s next?”
Ethan crossed his arms. “I don’t trust anyone in here. I want you and Julian to head down to the lab and keep them safe. If Rick tells them anything and slips, they may be in danger.”
Julian and Tori agreed to the job.
“We’re going to kick the shit out of some reporters,” stated Elizabeth. “I want a copy of that damn email to see what it says.”
“It might give us something,” Blackhawk confirmed.
Callen wouldn’t bet on it being helpful. “Yeah, or it could be a bunch of crap. We know what our record is like here in Red River.”
~ Chapter Twenty ~
The Denali came to a stop in the parking lot of the local newspaper. The three Directors watched the people coming and going and braced themselves for what was about to go down. None of them enjoyed the prospect of kissing the media’s ass, but if it meant saving the next life, they were willing to take one for the FBI team.
“What’s the plan?” Callen asked.
“We’re going in and going to ask nicely to see the email released from the police,” Elizabeth reassured.
“And if it they say no?”
Ethan fielded this one. “Then we play the game. If we hit them hard, we’ll get nothing. This time a little sugar is better than a whole lot of vinegar.”
“Did you just throw that out there for me, Cowboy?” she inquired. “Do I need to remind you both that I can be sweet as pie.”
Both men laughed at the humor in that statement. She could be sweet and then when the ‘victim’ least expected it, go in for the jugular.
“Okay, how about a little friendly wager?” Elizabeth knew they were betting she’d lose her temper and beat someone into a bloody pulp. When they bet against her, it just made her want it that much more.
“I’m in for a little deal. What’s on the table?” C
allen said, grinning. “Sex or money?” That was their general bet.
She contemplated it. “If I can’t keep my cool and get that memo, then I’ll offer up sex.”
Blackhawk grinned. “I want alone time. No offense Cal, but I want a couple hours of uninterrupted woman bouncing, on top of the week of kink you already owe me for handling the media.”
“I should be offended by that phrase, but I’ll let it go,” Elizabeth answered, laughing. “Since I’m about to show off the kinder, gentler me.”
“I’ll go in for that. I don’t mind a few hours of our girl naked and perched in my lap.”
Both men thought about it and their bodies reacted. Their thoughts were interrupted by laughter.
They were both predictable. “I get plenty of sex, so I’m going for something I don’t always get.”
Blackhawk knew what was coming. Elizabeth was sadistic. “What’s this going to cost my ego?”
“Know the t-shirts I purchased you both for Christmas to tell you we were pregnant?” the laughter started immediately, at the look on their faces.
“Yeah?” Ethan thought back to the shirt that said ‘Daddy’ and cringed.
Callen didn’t like where this was heading.
“You both have to grocery shop together while wearing them, and I get to watch.” The visual made her giggle. “And the day the baby’s born, you both are sporting it in the delivery room.”
Both men stared at her horrified at the suggestion.
“You get hours of lap bouncing, as you called it, and I get hours of hysterical laughing. That sounds fair to me.” She wiped her eyes and found some composure.
“You’re evil.” Callen said, pulling no punches. “You should be working out of Gitmo torturing terrorists.”
“I do try, Darlin’. Now the question is, are you man enough to take the bet? In the back of your head, you need to weigh the cost risk ratio. How bad do I want two baby daddies in those bright yellow shirts in the local store, where our neighbors can see you?”
Blackhawk contemplated it. “I’m in. You have no patience pregnant, and newspaper people piss you off before you have to talk to them. I’m secure that you won’t be able to pull it off.”
Callen shook his head. “I don’t know, Ethan. She’s sadistic and if the price is high enough, she’ll pull it off to kick our asses and laugh about it.”
“Are you in, Cal? She turned around, pulling his mouth to hers, invading and assaulting his senses. It appeared he needed a little incentive.
His entire body came to life at the single kiss, and then he thought about three hours of mind blowing sex alone with her, his mind was made up. For that alone he’d crawl through a desert full of scorpions. When the moan broke free, she released him from the kiss.
“What do you say, sexy? Want part of the deal?” she practically purred, as her fingers stroked his cheek.
Licking his lips, he could taste her on them. “I’m sure I’ll regret it, but yes, count me in.”
Blackhawk laughed, knowing his brother would cave. The next time he was going to play hard to get, just to get that kiss. He was desperate for some ‘Lyzee Lip Lock’ himself. “Okay Baby, impress us.”
The men followed her into the building that the newspaper called home. It wasn’t a huge office, meaning that the staff would be easier to manage.
Once inside, Elizabeth took off her sunglasses and smiled at the woman manning the desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Reading the name plate, she worked her magic. “Hi Marsha, my name is Director Elizabeth Blackhawk. I’m with the FBI, and I need to talk to the reporter working on the Red River serial killing articles.”
The woman lifted a brow. “ID please?”
All three of them slid their badges across the counter for the woman to see. When she nodded, they picked them back up, tucking them away.
“Can I ask why you need to see Craig?”
Here’s where it mattered most. “I’m here to discuss information regarding the case.”
The woman buzzed him and whispered into the phone. Within seconds, around the corner came a young man in a rush.
“I’m Craig Booker. Can I help you?”
Elizabeth didn’t miss the glint of possibility in his eyes. He was planning on getting information from her. The game was on, and she was going to beat him and the sexy Natives behind her. “Do you have someplace more private? I don’t think we should discuss specifics of an ongoing investigation out in the open for prying ears to hear.”
He nodded and led her to an office in the back. “Sorry that it’s so small. We don’t have a lot of space here to work.”
She gave him her ‘girl next door’ grin and took a seat. Between looking sweet and innocent, she’d use her pregnancy too if need be. “That’s okay, Craig. I’m Director Elizabeth Blackhawk, and we decided to come to you and talk business.”
He looked skeptical. “Why me?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, it was random. Your paper was the first one that came to mind.”
He wasn’t sure if she was serious. “What’s with the muscle?” Craig Booker motioned towards Ethan and Callen.
“They’re my partners in the field, not really my body guards. I can manage that on my own,” she answered, patting the Glock on her hip.
Craig relaxed. “We were emailed some details; can you check them out and let me know if they’re accurate? I’d like a one on one with you too.”
Blackhawk grinned at the man. There was a snowballs chance in hell that was going to happen.
“The private interview is going to depend on one thing- how forthright and willing you are to help me out. I’m more inclined to give a quote to those that play nice with us.”
Craig leaned forward. “What do you want, Lady?” He wasn’t an idiot. The FBI didn’t come knocking without a reason.
“I want a copy of your email from the police department, and in exchange I’ll give you a quote when the killer’s caught.”
Callen and Ethan fought hard to not stare with their mouths hanging open down to their knees. She was not only calm, but she was about to jump into the media piranha pool.
“Seriously? You get a copy of something that the police emailed out, and I get an exclusive?”
“Yep.”
“No strings attached?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “The only one is that I can’t give you pertinent details until it’s all wrapped up in a pretty bow, but I’ll sit down with you and go over the details before we leave town.”
“Why are you willing to deal with me? I’ve Googled you and trust me, ‘friendly with reporters’ isn’t referenced with your name online. There’s a video of you ‘accidentally spilling’ your coffee down a newscaster that made an ‘Indian’ reference, and one where you ‘accidentally’ knocked a TV reporter into a bunch of shrubs. You don’t play nice with people, so this is making me damn nervous.”
“I’m greatly misunderstood.”
He stared her in the eyes. “Yeah, I bet you are,” Craig stated, sarcastically. “How about you stop yanking my chain, and tell me the why you’re willing to talk to me for an article. You NEVER do interviews. Reporters have tried to get details on the ‘Blackhawk team’ out of FBI West, and no one’s ever pulled it off.”
Ethan crossed his arms and stared at the man. It made him sit back in his chair.
She contemplated an answer. “This is a sensitive situation, and I want the information to be portrayed as truth not slanderous hearsay. I have a special place in my heart for the Native community. The men in my life are clearly native, as are my children and father-in-law. I don’t want a bunch of wackadoos running amuck making shit up about a heritage I completely love and respect.”
He nodded, buying it. Yeah, he was in bed with the devil, but if she came through, he’d score a Pulitzer. “Deal.”
Elizabeth shook his hand. “I want respect for the Natives involved in this and if you follow through, I’ll give you a grea
t byline to blow the other papers away.”
Craig pulled out the paper from the file on his desk. “I’ll go make you a copy.”
When he was gone, both men stared at her.
“What?”
“You just played nice with the paper guy.”
She started laughing. “Looks like I get hours of endless laughter, but I tell you what… I’ll still offer up some bouncing and lap perching.”
Blackhawk had never seen her this calm with the media. “If we didn’t make the bet, would you have done the same thing?”
“Yep. I would have and this was my plan the entire time,” she admitted. “I don’t want the Natives to get a bad rap when this is done. I want to swing the popular consensus back to respect for Julian’s people.”
“I should probably be mad,” stated Callen, “but you actually managed to pull it off. It may be the end of the world as we know it.” Since he was getting time with her anyway, he’d suck it up.
Craig came back in with a copy and handed it to her. “How do I get in touch with you?”
She pulled out her card and scribbled her number on it. “No one has this number, if it gets out I’ll be coming back here, and I’ll rip off your nuts and make a necklace out of them. Then you can verify that all your Googling was indeed quite accurate,” she stated, unequivocally. “I play nice when people play nice with me.”
He stared at her, as she handed him the card.
“That’s my private number, and my husband isn’t going to like if lots of reporters start calling me daily. I trust you to keep your end of the bargain. Are we clear?”
“Yes,” he muttered. “I’ll be in touch, and if you don’t keep your word, I’ll rip you to pieces in the story.”
Leaning over the desk she laughed totally unworried. “You won’t be the first or the last. But let’s throw this out there. I’m a Fed. Do you really want to screw with someone that can ‘accidentally’ put you on Homeland Security’s watch list? Every plane you try to board will involve hours of strip searches by a man named bubba in a back room. If I were you, I wouldn’t threaten me.”
Darkness Of Truth (An FBI/Romance Thriller~ Book 6) Page 53
