Blood Shall Run (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 15) Read online

  The cat was out of the bag.

  And here was the problem.

  On the outside, he didn’t blame Elizabeth, but the inside was a completely different story.

  “She tried, Chris. Jesus, she was fighting so hard for you and for Cyra. You can’t dump this on her. You can’t make her feel like she failed.”

  “She did fail. The woman I hold in my heart failed me, and it cost me my wife and Bethe her mother.”

  Tony stared at him. This was his proof at how far he was gone. Elizabeth nearly died. Lily nearly killed her as she fought for all of their lives, pregnant, sick, and on her own.

  A rational Chris would know that.

  A rational Chris would see she was still fighting for him.

  They all were.

  “She cost my wife her life.”

  The room went silent.

  What was Tony supposed to say to that? He knew who the target was going to be, and it sucked.

  Elizabeth had told him she was waiting for it. She told him she wouldn’t fight back, and she wouldn’t. When it came to Chris, she’d let him kick the shit out of her heart if it made him feel better.

  She loved him that damn much.

  They all did.

  “I need a walk,” Chris said as he grabbed his phone and wallet.

  “Chris…”

  “Stop, Tony! You wanted the truth, well there it is. I hate her for it.”

  Tony stared openmouthed. He never thought, in his wildest dreams, that Chris would ever say that about Elizabeth.

  Never.

  Everyone knew that they had one hell of a bond. There was a love there that no one could ever find with either of them. Yes, they loved him, but Lyzee and Chris…they’d grown up as Feds together.

  In blood.

  In the gore.

  In the guts.

  This was really bad. Tony didn’t know what to do. If he told Elizabeth all of this, she’d die of a broken heart. He remembered when he accused her of hurting him—of hiding the truth about his mother—she barely held on.

  This would bury her.

  So, Tony did the only thing he could.

  He reached out to their real boss. As he dialed, he hoped he wasn’t busy.

  “Yes, Doctor,” came Ethan’s voice over the phone.

  “We have a huge problem. I can’t tell Lyzee. I need your help.”

  “With?”

  “We need an intervention, and fast. I just had a very candid talk with Chris.”

  “About?”

  He didn’t hold back.

  Tony told Ethan Blackhawk everything that had been said. In the back of his mind, he prayed that his family—the two people he loved more than anything in the world—would be okay.

  If not, they had a big problem.

  As it stood now, their family, and team, was about to blow apart.

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

  Voodoo Temple

  of Spiritual Awakening

  Wednesday Afternoon

  They’d finally shaken the reporter, and they weren’t too late in meeting up with Detective Savage. When they strolled up, he was leaning against the building to avoid the already heated sun.

  He looked calm, and that would be helpful going into this situation. He was there to act as a liaison, and they were going to need it.

  Hopefully, he was accustomed to dealing with all things Voodoo, and the insane woman who claimed to be a priestess. If not, Elizabeth was going to have to wing it.

  And that was never good for anyone who was involved. Who knew what was going to come out of her mouth?

  On a good day, it could be scandalous.

  On a bad day…inflammatory.

  “What do we have?” Boone asked, as he waited for their approach.

  Elizabeth told him everything that had happened that morning and caught him up to speed with Chris’s reports. When she was finished, he thought about it. Elizabeth could see the wheels turning in his head.

  “What do you need to know?” he asked.

  “I guess what I’m asking is could this have something to do with Voodoo?”

  His body went tense, and she didn’t understand why. He was pretty lax a few minutes ago.

  “It’s a distinct possibility. We have issues every year where someone thinks they’re doing Voodoo, and it’s some twisted made up mess.”

  “Well, we definitely have that.”

  “How do you want to run this?” he asked.

  “I’m going to be direct. I’ve found when dealing with religious crazies, you can’t beat around the bush.”

  “I’m going out on a limb here, and I’m going to say that you aren’t big on religion.”

  That made Callen laugh. “Good guess. That tree only has one limb, and she’s on it.”

  She was amused. “No, I’m really not. I’ve seen far too much to believe anything anymore. I trust in my partners, my gun, and my instinct. In my world, that’s all I have.”

  He nodded.

  Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. “Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re big into religion?”

  “I’m religious,” he offered, but that’s all. He didn’t go into depth on it.

  “Well, I’m not, and I don’t like when religion and murder intersect. It’s never a good thing and here’s the proof. We have dead bodies and missing organs.”

  “You run it, Director. I’m going to sit back and listen. Sometimes, you hear the most when you say the least.”

  Elizabeth stared at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  Even Callen knew why she was staring at him. That was something Timothy had said all the time to them. Basically, he was telling them to shut the hell up, but in his way.

  On top of that, there were wind chimes.

  Both Elizabeth and Callen looked around to find them, and for the life of them, none of the buildings had any of them.

  That meant one thing.

  Timothy was still around. It had been a long time since they’d heard from him, and it immediately sent a rush of pain through both of them.

  Elizabeth took Callen’s hand and squeezed it.

  “What are you looking for?” Boone asked with his hand on his gun. He really expected someone to jump out with the way they were scanning the area.

  “I heard wind chimes.”

  “Me too.”

  The man stared at him. “Really? I didn’t hear anything. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Yeah, they were. Actually, they were really good. Knowing Timothy was watching over them from the happy hunting grounds was enough.

  He had their back.

  “When you said that old adage, it reminded me of something an old Indian Shaman said to us all the time.”

  “He was wise. My grandfather was big on telling me that when I wasn’t focused on the small details, but the bigger picture out of my reach.”

  Callen patted her on the back. It was always hard when they’d think about Timothy. He’d been gone for a while, but he’d left a hole in all of their hearts.

  “Let’s go.”

  They walked to the door of the ‘temple’, which was nothing more than an oddly colored house with way too much going on around, on, and apparently, in it too.

  Temple her ass.

  It was a hoarder’s paradise.

  As she prepared to knock, the door opened, and low and behold, there stood the woman they were looking to interview. She was wearing some super low cut dress, and nothing on beneath it.

  Oh, she was looking for something all right, but she wasn’t going to get it from Callen. Elizabeth trusted him with her life. He wouldn’t even check out the nipples peeking through the material.

  She’d bet money on it.

  “Welcome, Elizabeth Blackhawk. I’ve been waiting for you to arrive,” the petite blonde said, moving back so they could enter her home. “Be at peace in my dwelling.”

  Elizabeth had that creepy feeling again, and she wasn’t quite sure w
hy. Religion didn’t bother her, but this woman…she was staring at her as if she knew her.

  Her guard was up.

  “Thank you for inviting us in.”

  “I saw in my trance that you were coming,” she offered, walking through the front room to one deeper into the bowels of the house.

  “Then you should have gotten dressed. Apparently, you’re chilly.”

  Callen had to cover a laugh with a cough.

  The fun was going to start.

  He could tell.

  The woman laughed. “Don’t trip. We’ll have a seat and talk in my sitting room. It’s where I do all my divination and spirit work.”

  Great.

  This woman was crackerjack crazy. She was a box of sugarcoated nuts.

  Elizabeth had to navigate around candles, skulls, and all kinds of shit. Frankly, the place made her crazy. There was shit everywhere. Feathers, chicken feet, candles, and beads were hung, strung, and tossed about. It looked like some macabre horror story threw up all over her house.

  It was…well, it was an affront to anyone with OCD. Mainly her and her neat freak tendencies.

  “Nice dead chickens. It classes the place up,” she said, trying not to gawk at the train wreck going on around her. All of a sudden, she wanted compulsively to clean.

  “Hello, brother,” she said, welcoming the detective to her shop and place of worship.

  “Sister,” Boone stated.

  Elizabeth stared at him. “You two know each other?” she asked.

  “You might say we do. Then again, you might say I know you too. I was told that you needed my help.”

  First things first.

  Elizabeth needed to clear something up. It was all about the detective now, not her.

  “Wait! How do you know each other?”

  Boone didn’t even flinch. “I practice Voodoo. It’s the religion I choose to worship, and I’ve purchased some of my supplies here.”

  The woman smiled. “He’s my customer.”

  Elizabeth stared at her. “Well, I’m sure you have many if you’re strutting around like that. They’re not here to check out the merchandise. They’re here to check out your goods.”

  The woman smiled. “Probably.”

  Elizabeth focused on the detective. “Well, knowing all of this might have been freaking helpful five minutes ago before we walked into this room, don’t you think?” she asked.

  “I told you I was religious. You didn’t ask anything more. Had you, I would have answered.”

  She was having a damn hard time seeing Boone Savage practicing this woo-woo, crazy shit. He seemed…

  Sane.

  Well, until that moment.

  Marie Babineaux got comfortable, and welcomed them to do the same.

  “Maybe we should resolve this first. I don’t really know the detective. He came in once or twice. I tried to get him to join our ceremonies, but he declined.”

  “And you remembered him from once or twice? In a city that has a zillion tourists a year?”

  Marie pointed at his wrist. “See that medallion? I admired it the first time he came in. It’s the equivalent to a Saint Michael medallion in Christianity. That’s what placed him for me.”

  Boone covered his wrist.

  Well, you learned something new every day. The detective was going to learn what an ass kicking felt like as soon as she was out of this crazy hoarder’s shit hole.

  He was watching her.

  She could tell he was worried.

  Now Elizabeth had to wonder why Boone didn’t tell her before when he found out they had a Voodoo priestess on the top of their suspect list.

  Callen touched her on the shoulder, trying to get her to refocus. He knew what she was thinking. He was thinking it too.

  If there was one thing she hated, it was being caught off guard. It wasn’t easy, but now she had the cop liaison, who was supposed to be helping them, practicing Voodoo.

  Yeah, that was going to piss her off.

  “If it’s a problem,” Boone said, “I can recuse myself and you can have another detective help you. I’m not my religion, and it’s not me. I keep it private because right now, you’re thinking I’m insane. It’s hard to do my job when someone is staring at me like I’m three crackers short of a box.”

  Oh, that was exactly what she was thinking.

  There was something else on her mind. She was thinking about how she was trying to play Cupid to someone who danced naked around chicken bones as he prayed to dolls with pins stuck in them.

  Yeah, this was a mess.

  Ethan was going to kick her ass, and not in the sexy fun kind of way. This just may be his breaking point when she told him about this. HR would have a shitfit.

  “It’s really fine, Detective. I just would have preferred a heads up.”

  Callen stared at her.

  She didn’t lose it.

  This was a miracle. When he went to say so, she elbowed him in the side. Well, at least he knew she wasn’t possessed.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Director,” Marie said, pouring four cups of tea that she had ready for their arrival, “Voodoo is much like Christianity. We have spirits, one main God, and a lot of the same elements. As for Native Americans being part of that, in Louisiana, there is a lot of blending of Creole, Natives, the French, and African influence. I’m not shocked the detective practices what a lot of others do.”

  She stared at the man. “I don’t care if he practices Voodoo. As someone on my team, I would have liked a heads up at the door, so I could have had the option to let him run this interview due to familiarity.”

  That was his cue.

  Now he understood where he stood with her. She genuinely was upset that he hadn’t been open and honest.

  That he got.

  She wanted him to run it, so he would.

  “I apologize, Director.” He focused on Marie Babineaux. “Priestess, you know why we’re here, right?”

  “The spirits told me, so yes. You think that the women being killed in ‘The Quarter’ have something to do with my followers.”

  Elizabeth watched, sipping the tea. She really hoped that the woman didn’t plan to do any crazy Voodoo shit. That would piss her off.

  “We’re here to interview you, not the spirits. How about you tell us what you think,” she stated, keeping the detective on track.

  Boone got it.

  There was very little wiggle room for nonsense. Elizabeth Blackhawk was at her limit.

  “What did they tell you, Priestess?” he asked, sipping his tea. He could feel Elizabeth watching him. Boone was pretty sure that he was going to be booted off this case as soon as they got outside.

  He knew how to handle Marie. Elizabeth was going to have to trust him with it.

  “You think someone is stealing organs.”

  She now had Elizabeth’s attention. That was something no one knew but the people on the case. It wasn’t even in the media yet. All the news knew was that they had dead hookers.

  Two of them.

  This woman was seriously in on it, or she was talking to someone who knew the details. No one in their right mind would believe she was talking to spirits.

  They had to have a leak.

  It was the logical thing.

  “Is it someone who practices the faith?” he asked, continuing the questioning.

  She put her teacup down and lit the candle on the table that had a woman similar to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

  Elizabeth was raised Catholic. She now practiced Shamanism and herbalism as a way to make sure her kids understood what Timothy wanted them to learn.

  This to her was…odd.

  “In case you’re wondering,” Marie began, right before glancing up at Elizabeth, “that’s Aida Wedo. She’s our version of the BVM. In fact, when I was catholic, like yourself, I felt a strong connection to her.”

  Elizabeth didn’t say a word. She was playing it cool, even when she wanted to flip her shit all over this woman.
/>
  Damn this bet.

  Damn.

  Damn.

  Damn.

  As she chanted some words, she waved the smoke toward their visitors. As she stared at the way it billowed, she began reading the signs from the spirits.

  “It’s not someone who practices Voodoo. I’m sorry, but it’s not.”

  “Okay.”

  Elizabeth stared at the detective. “That’s it? That’s how you want to take this?”

  He knew that Marie Babineaux wasn’t going to give them anything by pushing. He’d heard enough about her to know that they’d have to do this the hard way—which meant they were going to have to tread lightly and not insult her.

  Marie continued to read the smoke. She chanted more, and then stared at Elizabeth. “Evil is here.”

  She wasn’t shocked. It probably got lost in this shit mess and couldn’t find its way back to hell.

  “You don’t look worried,” Marie offered.

  “I’m not.”

  “Why is that? You should fear it. What comes is ugly, and it’s going to do harm.”

  She took off her badge and slapped it onto the table. “See that? It’s like a hunting license. I chase evil. If it’s here, I’m in the right place. We have a killer taking organs, and I’m going to figure out who is doing it.”

  “Which ones are being taken?” she asked.

  “Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one communing with the spirits. I only have corpses and an ME.”

  Marie leaned forward. “If you’re going to be condescending, you can leave. I don’t come to your home and mock you.”

  She wanted to roll her eyes. She wouldn’t let this wackadoo a thousand feet near her home. She was freaking insane if she bought into the Voodoo thing.

  The detective wasn’t far behind, but that was for another day. She had bigger fish to fry.

  “Listen, I just need to know if you think anyone who worships your God could be capable of taking a life.”

  Marie leaned back. “I like him better.”

  Elizabeth glanced over at the detective. “I’ll trade him for an answer and a handful of beads. Deal?”

  Both men tensed.

  Marie focused on her, and then she laughed. “You’re full of fire. I like that in a person. As handsome as the detective is, he isn’t thinking about me. He’s thinking about a lavender eyed woman.”