Past Will Haunt Page 13

  “You’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me, Chris. I’m having fun with you.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She began praying that it wasn’t something personal that was going to embarrass them both.

  Chris signaled for two more beers.

  “What?”

  “Do you do this often?” he asked, pointing to the beers and room around them.

  “It depends. Livy and I get a drink on Fridays when we’re not out in the field. It’s good to de-stress after what we do.”

  He didn't say anything.

  “How about you? What do you do to forget the horrors of our jobs?”

  “Nothing, really. I’ve never done this before. This is my first beer and my first happy hour.”

  Yeah, she could tell.

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “No one asks the ME if he wants to join them. I’m the freak at work. I stick my hands in dead bodies for a living. A lot of Feds, and women, think I carry some horrible disease and that if they touch me, I’m going to give them something.”

  “Stupidity is contagious, Christopher. I wouldn’t worry about what they think. I’m not afraid to touch you.” She knew she needed to prove a point, so she leaned over and left a kiss on his cheek. “See? I didn't catch anything.”

  He smiled at her, and then it disappeared just as quickly. Elizabeth knew she was going to be the mother duck in this relationship. He was sweet, so she didn't really mind.

  “Why do you look so upset, Christopher?”

  “Before I didn't know what it was like to go out and have fun with someone. I guess my life is really lonely.”

  She glanced over as he started drinking his second pint. She gave him twenty minutes until he was sick as a dog.

  “So you never go out?”

  He shook his head.

  “Ever?”

  “No. So thank you for bringing me. I couldn’t do this alone. I’m not good in social circles.”

  She patted his hand on the table. “Next time, when I go out with Livy, you’re coming.”

  Chris stared at her in surprise. “Really? You weren’t bullshitting me about doing this again? I figured you were going to blow me off later.”

  “It won’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  Elizabeth sipped her beer. “I don’t blow people off. When I make a promise, I keep it. My daddy taught me that. So, I live that rule.”

  “I think I like that rule. I’m going to live it too. If I make a promise, I’ll keep it.”

  Elizabeth grinned.

  “I’m still shocked you’re really going to go out with me again. Guys like me don’t get drinks with women like you.”

  She stared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Elizabeth asked, truly confused.

  “You’re beautiful and hot. I’m the ME. Think about it, Elizabeth.”

  She laughed. “Have you met me? I grew up in a town so small that Podunk looks like a metropolis. My daddy is the sheriff, and I did whatever the hell I wanted, which included raising all kinds of hell. Girls like me, we got you arrested. Don’t go putting me up on that kind of pedestal.”

  “So you’re a bad girl. Right…like that’s going to deter me from thinking about you.”

  Chris laughed.

  Elizabeth needed to get this one under control and fast. She didn't need to know what he was thinking about her. It would make them do stupid shit, and she knew it.

  She genuinely liked him, and Elizabeth couldn’t say that about many people.

  “Anyway, Christopher, the issue is you just need to get your feet wet. Once you do, you’ll find it easier to make friends. You’ll have many happy hour dates, and you won’t even have time to go with me.”

  He laughed. “It’ll never happen for a couple reasons, but mainly because I have a horrible secret.”

  Elizabeth’s glass paused halfway to her lips. “You don’t have sex with the bodies, do you?”

  He stared at her with his eyes wide.

  “NO! Ewwww! I hope that’s not a rumor going around. I’ll never live that one down.”

  She started laughing. “I was busting your ass, Christopher.”

  He calmed down. “Don’t tell anyone what I’m going to tell you, okay?”

  “Sure, I’m all ears.”

  “They’re pretty ones too, and I know my body parts.”

  She laughed. “That is NOT a pick up line, Christopher. In fact, I hope you’ve never said it before to the opposite sex. If you did, it’s not going to get you laid.”

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I have and you’re right. It didn't get me laid.”

  Elizabeth genuinely laughed. “Please stop using it.”

  Chris grinned.

  Elizabeth noticed he was handsome—in that geekified way. She was a good judge of character, and she knew he was going to survive this clusterfuck they called the FBI. Her gut told her so.

  “Okay, so what’s your secret?”

  “I’m rich.”

  She didn't even bat an eyelash. “Okay, and what’s the secret?”

  Chris waited for her to treat him differently. He waited for Elizabeth to start to fawn over him. When she didn't, he was confused. “Well?” he asked.

  “Well what? If you think I care that you have money, I don’t. I judge a person by them, not their wallet.”

  “Wow.”

  “Wow what?” she asked.

  “You’re one of the few women I’ve met that didn't care. I never know who to trust. Some women hear rich doctor, and they think easy street.”

  “Well, they’re not going to try and jump you, money or not, if you drop that lame ass line on them. I’d run the other way.”

  He laughed. “I like you.”

  “I like you too, Christopher, and I won’t tell anyone you’re rich.”

  “Filthy rich.”

  She laughed more.

  “Like more money than God.”

  “Well, if he asks for a loan, let me know. I’m beginning to question his existence. We have shitty jobs, and there can’t be a higher power. If there is, he screwed up.”

  Chris agreed.

  When he ordered another beer, she put her hand on his wrist. “This is your one warning. If I have to carry you out of here, I’m going to kick your ass when you wake up.”

  He grinned. “I feel good.”

  She sighed. Elizabeth didn't doubt it. He was drinking like there was no tomorrow. Then again, he had to dig in bodies. He probably needed that beer more than she did.

  “Give me your keys.”

  “What?”

  “You can drink all you want, and I’ll get you home safe, but you’re not driving there. Got it?”

  He grinned and then pulled the keys out. “You should be named Saint Elizabeth.”

  “Lyzee.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “My closest friends call me that. I don’t let just anyone use it, so don’t pass it around.” Why she did it, she’d never know. It was so much easier not having people rely on you, but this man tripped her up—and not in a sexual way. She wanted to watch over him, making sure he was okay.

  It looked like she found a new buddy for her circle. It looked like she’d just adopted an ME. What the hell was she thinking?

  He grinned. “Thank you for that, Lyzee.”

  With that, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Do you want to play darts with me?”

  Why the hell not? She certainly couldn’t leave him alone. He’d be talking about body parts and likely hitting people with the darts.

  This was going to be a disaster.

  Friends were messy.

  Livy and Gabe were the only two people she trusted in their world, and now she had Christopher to worry about too.

  And worry she would.

  “Sure thing, but we’ll play for pretzels. There’s no way I’m taking money for this mess.”

  He got up, held out his hand and waited.
For a second, he didn't think she’d take it.

  But she did.

  Chris dropped his arm over her shoulder as they crossed the pub.

  Elizabeth laughed.

  She was so screwed.

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

  When she began walking down the street, he followed. He was watching her all night and she was the one.

  In the bar, to his surprise, the other Fed was there. She must have been on some kind of date, since she was hanging out with some guy.

  It amused him.

  They were so close, and they didn't even know it.

  This was definitely a sign.

  The game was going off without a hitch. So, while he was watching the next woman, he was watching the FBI too. How handy was that?

  When his prey left the bar, he followed with his backpack ready. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her.

  No, he’d followed her before, so he knew the path she would take.

  Hiding in the shadows, he waited for her to arrive at her block. As she headed up the stairs, he struck.

  Moving fast, he slammed her head against the door to keep her from screaming, and it worked.

  The thud echoed in the night.

  Taking her keys, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Once inside, he scouted out the perfect location. Her kitchen was small, but he’d make do with the dining room.

  He’d have to take her there.

  Dragging her into the room, he tied her arms and legs until she was spread eagle. Then he began cutting her clothes from her body.

  As she moaned, he shoved a rag into her mouth.

  The woman gagged on it.

  He didn't care.

  Climbing onto the table, he stared down at her. “Let’s teach you a lesson, shall we?” he said, pulling his erection from his dark pants.

  She screamed into the gag.

  Then she repeatedly begged as he raped her.

  The entire time, he smiled and hummed an Irish tune. Oh, this one was perfect, but he knew who would be better.

  The Fed.

  And then he came.

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

  The Bog

  It was getting late.

  Christopher Leonard was officially drunk. He was slurring, tripping, and Elizabeth knew she needed to get him home. The entire night, she’d watched the bar.

  People came.

  People went.

  She didn't see anyone familiar. She’d had two beers, been there five hours, and nothing was out of place. They tagged the killer as moving fast, but maybe he was taking a night off.

  As she came back from the ladies’ room, she found Christopher in a very bad and dangerous situation. There was some bruiser getting ready to kick his ass.

  She didn't know what had happened, since she was only gone as long as it took to pee.

  Well, crap!

  It looked like babysitting duty was kicking into overdrive. She couldn’t let her ME, and friend, get his ass kicked. She just couldn’t.

  As she weaved her way through the people, she saw Chris get manhandled. The big guy was getting ready to wipe the floor with the man.

  Well, it pissed her off.

  The guy was some steroid junkie, and she wasn’t going to let her friend get a beat down. Chris wasn’t a mean drunk, so there was no way he could have done anything wrong.

  “Yo! What’s going on?” she asked, pulling the brute’s hand off Chris’s throat.

  It was like a scene from a movie. Everything in the place stopped. The cheery Irish music screeched to a halt, patrons stared over, and the big bruiser was now focused on her.

  Great.

  This was going to be paperwork for Gabe. She could see it now.

  “We’re going to take over these darts, and the child was in our way.”

  “Listen, he was holding it for me. Let him go, and we’ll head out. We’re done anyway.” She tried to do this the right way, where no one got hurt.

  The man didn't have a clue what he was messing with. She wasn’t some date in a bar. She was a Fed with a mean streak.

  “Awwww the geek boy has a pretty babysitter. Isn’t that sweet? She’s going to have to watch me bust your face. You pissed me off.”

  Chris looked worried.

  Elizabeth wasn’t.

  “I suggest you let his shirt go, back your ass up, and move along.”

  “Or what, princess? You can’t stop me, and he certainly can’t. He’s a nerd. Are you going to take the geek home and kiss his boo-boos? Nah! You’d never hit that. He’s not that lucky unless he’s loaded.”

  Well, crap!

  She saw the look on Chris’s face, and it broke her heart. This dumbass hit two of his weaknesses in one shot. “Actually, I am going to take him home.” It wasn’t really a lie. He was too drunk to drive. “He’s my boyfriend, and we’re going to walk out over your very sore body.”

  The man laughed.

  She knew she shouldn’t do it, but this guy was asking for it. He was actually getting ready to punch Chris. Well, she couldn’t let that happen.

  She sighed. “I want you to remember that I warned you.”

  Then Elizabeth took her shot. It was bare knuckles right to the face. Had it been a perp, the guy would have stayed down. Since this steroid junkie was hopped up on testosterone, of course he was going to get back up.

  And he did.

  The entire place gasped.

  Chris stared openmouthed.

  Unfortunately, that face shot only pissed him off and now she was really going to have to hurt him.

  “You’re going to wish you didn't do that, sweet cheeks. When I’m done, you’ll be my bitch.”

  “You’re a jackwagon,” Chris said, trying to find an insult to fit the situation.

  “Not helping, Christopher,” she muttered, not looking away from the big man.

  “You’re screwed,” the big guy said, cracking his knuckles.

  “I’m going to warn you right now. I’m an FBI agent, and if you hit me, you’re in trouble. I’m talking about serious jail time.”

  He swung out, barely clipping her lip.

  She cursed. The asshole actually struck a girl!

  Elizabeth tasted blood. The patrons, mostly drunks, began chanting ‘fight’.

  Well, it looked like they were about to get one hell of a show. Elizabeth knew she was already in enough trouble. She struck a civilian and got their ME shit faced drunk, so why not?

  She kicked out with her boot. It hit the man in the midsection. Elizabeth spun, elbowed him in the face, breaking his nose, and then punched him in the solar plexus.

  Goliath went down.

  Everyone cheered.

  The woman with the downed man looked scared. She’d been all badass until her boyfriend hit the floor and didn't get up.

  “Hey, blondie! Do you think he’s a geek too? Let me tell you something, sweetheart! Today’s geeks are tomorrow’s millionaires—not steroid junkies. I’d rather go home with him than that piece of trash you call a dick.”

  The bartender rushed over. “Should I call the cops?”

  She pulled her badge from her back pocket, and ironically, Chris did the same. She had to fight not to laugh her ass off.

  “I’m a freaking Fed. I’m not taking him in. Let his bimbo drag his ass out of here. I don’t like freaking paperwork, and I’m not wasting my night.”

  The man stared at her incredulously—like there was no way she could be telling the truth. It was the story of her short career.

  “Sorry about the mess.”

  He shrugged. “Are you Irish?”

  She rolled her neck. “Yeah, why?”

  He laughed, his lilt filling the silence of the bar. “Because a feek fights for her man.”

  Elizabeth rolled her neck. “Seriously? Is that English? Do I have to look that up?”

  He laughed even more. “Boys! Play some music for the lady.”

  It started b
ack up, and Elizabeth grabbed her ME by his collar. “You and I are heading out of here before you get us killed. You’re just lucky that I can handle myself in a fight. Our only other option was shooting him, and you don’t want that meeting with Gabe. Trust me.”

  “Yes, honey,” he teased, stepping over the downed man to leave the pub.

  Outside, she opened his car and waited for him to get in. She’d have to pick up the Denali tomorrow. It wasn’t like it mattered, she’d have to come back to interview the few waitresses and patrons.

  “What the hell is a feek?” she asked.

  Chris smiled. “It’s back alley slang for hot, sexy chic. I think it’s fitting.”

  Well, at least it wasn’t something bad.

  “Why the hell do you know that?”

  Chris grinned sloppily at her. “Haven’t you ever heard of James Joyce?”

  She had.

  “I’m your boyfriend,” he said, laughing.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m Lyzee’s boyfriend. Woooo hoooo! Wait until I tell the world this one. This is the best day of my freaking life.”

  She snorted. “Christopher, that’s not saying a lot. We have to get you to aim so much higher.”

  “Next time, can I punch the asshole?” he slurred, leaning into her body to whisper in her ear.

  “Can you actually fight, Chris?”

  “Hell no! How hard can it be? You just punched him in the face and leveled him. I can do that.”

  Yeah, someone was a delusional drunk.

  “Actually, it hurts like hell. My freaking hand needs some ice,” she said, making sure he was bucked in.

  Chris took her had in his and checked out the bones in her fingers. “Nothing is broken.”

  “Aren’t you handy.”

  He brought her knuckles to his lips. “Yes, yes, I am. Thank you, Lyzee. Thank you for the best night of my life.”

  “Yeah, yeah, what you’re going to be is hurting from the hangover in the morning, so don’t thank me yet. You better not puke in your fancy car, rich boy.”

  He laughed.

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  By the time she walked around the car and got in, Chris Leonard was snoring.

  Well, shit.

  It looked like someone was going home with her.