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Discarded by Fate Page 22


  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to feed him.”

  She smiled. “Okay, Mr. Blackhawk.”

  “You know my name?” he asked.

  “Of course I do. The children talk about you, and Mr. Blackhawk looks like you. Those kids miss you, and they make up stories of you being on some adventure. This morning you were hunting leprechauns in the jungle, and last night at bedtime it was pigmies.”

  “They know what pigmies are?” he asked.

  “Cat told them. She’s a bright little girl,” she offered.

  He wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

  “What did they tell them?” he asked.

  “The last time the missus was here, Mrs. Blackhawk told them you were on some adventure to find some new things to carve, and that one day, you’d be back.”

  “Did she?”

  “Yes, and then she cried when no one was looking. You should see the kids more. They really love you.”

  He saw that was over.

  “Yeah, I should.”

  “I’m Sarah. The kids should be home soon. Will you be joining them for dinner?”

  Yeah, his last supper with them.

  “Yes.”

  She handed him the bottle. “I’ll set a plate.”

  Wyler fed his son and watched the woman walk around the kitchen. “How are the kids? What’s been going on in their lives? Are they okay?” he asked.

  Sarah smiled at him. “Well, CJ lost a tooth. We think EJ knocked it out, but they won’t rat on each other. Snitches get stitches, or that’s their motto. Those two are as thick as thieves, and they have sticky fingers—especially for lifting cookies.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, they will do anything for cookies, and they are just like their fathers when they were boys.”

  Or so Timothy had told him.

  He wasn’t there, so he didn’t know for sure.

  “Where are the dogs?” he asked, noticing that the place was quiet.

  “We lock them up during the day,” she said. “Beatrice doesn’t think it’s good to have two wild mongrels running around. She’s afraid they’ll hurt them. She’s pushing to get rid of them. She’s got allergies, and she really hates them.”

  He was appalled.

  “At night, they stay outside patrolling with security. They are more their dogs now than pets.”

  What?

  Did she just say…?

  “Those dogs love those kids. Elizabeth lets her dogs be locked up?”

  “She’s not home. When she’s home, she’s sad. You can see it in her eyes. Finding out that TJ has hearing loss…it was tough for her. No one wants their child to suffer. I don’t get it, since it’s not like she did anything.”

  No.

  He had.

  “When do they get home?” he asked, as TJ finished his bottle, and he began burping him.

  “Oh, in about ten minutes. Then it’s homework, dinner, baths, and bed. Beatrice doesn’t let them fool around on a school night. She thinks it’s important for them to get rest.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  When he was there, he wasn’t as strict.

  “Do the boys sleep together? CJ and EJ were always sneaking into each other’s rooms.”

  “No, Beatrice won’t allow it. The boys retire to their own rooms, and they stay there. It’s a rule.”

  He was horrified.

  “Really?”

  Sarah smiled. “Yes, she runs a tight ship when it comes to the kids. They had some bad habits that she had to break. Catherine was making up stories about some feather wearing man, Charlie refused to wear pink, and the boys…well, they had to get over that sleeping thing. Bethe is in her bedroom because she and Charlie don’t sleep together anymore either.”

  Their little lives had lost the spark.

  He’d done this.

  This was ripples in the pond, and it started with his actions. Wyler was ashamed of himself.

  In that moment, he wished he’d never left.

  Ethan hustled down the stairs. He was wearing a polo shirt, but his badge and gun were still on his hip—a sure sign he was definitely heading out.

  “Sarah, I’ll be home to help Catherine with her project.”

  “I’ll make sure she sets it up and is ready. She’ll be so happy to see you,” she stated.

  Ethan smiled. “Yeah, I think I can make one heck of a crazy hat.”

  Wyler wanted to offer.

  Instead, he said nothing. It hurt to be told no, so he’d just do it when Ethan left. He’d be there for this last night so their memories of him weren’t his disappearance, but him saying goodbye and that he loved them.

  He didn’t give that to his sons, but he would give that to his grandchildren.

  “I can take TJ up to bed,” Ethan said. “Then Gabe will be here. Sarah, can you and Beatrice hold down the fort while I’m doing a notify?”

  “We can, sir.”

  “I may not be home for dinner,” he offered. “I know it’s scheduled, but my job doesn’t make accommodations.”

  “It’s no problem, sir. I’ll have a plate for you in the refrigerator.”

  Again, Wyler was shocked.

  A schedule? What was this?

  He was calling Cat—Catherine. What the hell was going on there? The fun was gone.

  “Wyler, have some dinner. You look like you haven’t eaten in a week,” he said, taking TJ from him.

  Without a word, he walked past his father.

  “Don’t keep the kids up. It’s a school night. Since this is an impromptu visit, I don’t want them upset when you leave in the morning.”

  Wyler didn’t say a word.

  Ethan was gone.

  “I can help with dinner. The kids like elk steaks.”

  She smiled. “We don’t do elk or venison anymore. It was too hard to find it. So, we’ve switched the kids to beef. They love it.”

  He was horrified.

  Natives eating beef and not elk or venison?

  So, this was what their lives would be like if he disappeared.

  No, because he disappeared.

  Wyler got it.

  He hadn’t just ruined his life, he ruined theirs too.

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

  Lucy O’Donnell’s

  Apartment

  When they got there, the woman was just getting home from work. She saw the two Feds coming and stopped outside her building.

  “Are you here about Lucy?” she asked. There was no doubt they were cops of some sort. She could pick them out a mile away.

  As they got closer, she recognized her from the TV.

  Elizabeth pulled her blazer jacket back to show her the badge. “Actually, yes. Are you her roommate?” she asked, keeping it in the present tense.

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure how she was going to play it. A lot of it depended on this woman.

  “Yes, I’m Tara Curry. I reported her missing. She normally works at night, but I haven’t seen her for a couple days.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  She thought about it. “Thursday night-ish.”

  Elizabeth glanced over at Callen. That didn’t add up with their timeline. They suspected Lucy had been killed less than twenty-four hours ago.

  But it was Sunday, and her roommate said she disappeared Thursday.

  This was going to be a huge part of this.

  She could tell.

  “Are you sure it was Thursday and not Friday?” Elizabeth asked, trying to tie down the timeline.

  She was worried.

  That was possibly three days.

  “She headed out to have some fun on Thursday. I was off from work. I was having wine. No, it was definitely Thursday.”

  Elizabeth lifted a brow.

  Having fun?

  Was that what the kids today were calling it? If so, this was an indicator of how old she was getting.

  She was hooking.

  Whoring.

  Fun was a board game on F
riday night with popcorn.

  “By fun, do you mean have sex for money?” she asked, “And are you also a working girl?”

  “She did prostitute, and no, I’m not. I work at the mall. She paid the majority of our rent. She made a shitload more than I did. She was the perfect roommate. I had the place to myself all night, and she had it all day.”

  “Where did she stroll?”

  “What?” she asked, staring at Elizabeth like she was talking a foreign language.

  Really?

  “Stroll. You know, walk back and forth, back and forth, until a john picked her up. Stroll. That’s how it got its name.”

  “Oh, did it really?”

  Elizabeth fought not to roll her eyes.

  “She didn’t do corners and such. She would set up dates. I believe she had a black book.”

  “Do you have it?”

  “No way! She took it with her.”

  Well, this was getting them nowhere.

  “Did Lucy mention anything at all about someone following or bothering her? Was she having any issues with anyone?”

  “No. She loved her job. She worked her own hours, she knew her dates, and she was home by two most of the time. That’s how I knew something was up.”

  Elizabeth let the woman talk.

  She needed everything, and she’d found it best not to interrupt unless they needed to be prompted.

  “What happened next?” Callen asked.

  “Well, she didn’t come home at two or by three in the morning. We have a rule. If she was staying out past that, she’d text me a picture of where she was. No picture came in.”

  Callen was making notes.

  This was going to be an interesting case. If this woman went missing then, this killer was keeping his victims alive somewhere.

  That made it easier to catch him.

  Someone would see something.

  Hear something.

  “Thank you for your help,” Elizabeth said.

  As they walked away, Callen lowered his voice. “You’re not going to tell her that she’s dead?” he asked.

  She’d mulled it over.

  “No. She’s not really family and until I have the detective find something for me, she’s at the bottom of the notify list. We know she had a black book, but it’s MIA, BUT we can get our hands on something better.”

  He got it.

  “Her phone log. Let’s see who she called.” Elizabeth pulled out her phone and sent Blue a text. She wanted to work tonight, so she would work.

  When she tucked her phone away, Callen was deep in thought.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “He’s taking them and keeping them,” Callen stated.

  “Yeah, he is. If they communicated by two in the morning, and Lucy didn’t text Tara, that means she’s been missing since at least then on Friday morning. That’s three days. With her body only being in that state of decay for twenty-four hours, he’s trolling, taking, and stashing them somewhere alive.”

  “That’s creepy.”

  Yeah, she agreed.

  “And the sorority girl?”

  Elizabeth grinned. “We are going to hit up the school bright and early tomorrow morning. You know how much I love chipper girls.”

  “You realize that they might not want to tell us anything. Sorority girls aren’t that smart.”

  She stared at him.

  “Really?”

  “What?” he asked, looking around in confusion. He wasn’t sure what he said to put that look on her face.

  “Well, that was one hell of a generalization.”

  His wife didn’t get mad about much, so he realized where he’d screwed up.

  He got it.

  “You were a sorority girl, weren’t you?” Callen asked, cringing.

  “Yes, I was.”

  “So, is there some flirty sorority bylaw that will give us an in to get them to talk?”

  She laughed.

  He of little faith.

  “I have something so much better than some little rule to make them talk.”

  He didn’t get it.

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t just a sorority girl,” she began, batting her eyes at him and allowing the southern to fill her voice.

  “You weren’t?” he asked.

  “No. Our killer is really unlucky.”

  “Why?”

  “I was a Delta Gamma.”

  He stared at her. “Really?”

  “Yes, and they can look me up. I’m a sister, and that means one thing.”

  “That I’m turned on right now and feeling a tad bit pervert-ish?” Callen asked.

  She snorted.

  “That’s not a real word, Mr. Author.”

  “It doesn’t make it untrue.”

  He had a point.

  And here was hers.

  “That will make them willingly talk. I’d bet my belt buckle on it, Cal.”

  Callen dropped his sunglasses on.

  In the grand scheme of it all, it honestly didn’t matter one way or another.

  His wife had been a sorority girl, and he was still turned on by it.

  Oh, and she couldn’t stop him.

  After all, it was his head.

  Chapter Six

  Hotel

  W hen Ivan returned to his hotel room, all he wanted was a shower. Then after his shower, all he wanted was to have something to eat and to sleep. Then, it all changed again. His pizza came, and he didn’t want to eat it alone. A part of him was thinking about his earlier behavior, and the woman he’d hurt.

  Ivan wanted to apologize to Blue for his nastiness, and he wanted to have dinner with her. He owed her that much after his earlier behavior.

  Ivan was willing to offer her the olive branch, and hopefully, she’d forgive him for his snippiness. Normally, he had more control than he’d showed.

  Normally, he wasn’t a dick.

  Well, not to anyone but Elizabeth Blackhawk, but that was because he liked her.

  As soon as that thought went through his mind, there was the dawning of the cold hard facts.

  Oh, shit!

  He was a dick to Blue.

  Why?

  He liked her, and not just in a ‘I want to stick my dick in you and disappear’ kind of way.

  CRAP!

  That didn’t sit well with the man who swore he wasn’t getting entangled with the opposite sex ever again.

  Once bitten.

  Twice shy.

  Ivan sat there, staring at his pizza and weighing his options on the whole matter. This was one hell of a position to be in, and he knew it.

  If he went, he’d be admitting that the redhead turned him upside down. If he didn’t go, he’d be saying ‘I’m a douche’, and that wasn’t him.

  Was it?

  This was a disaster of epic proportions.

  Shit!

  “Don’t be a pussy. Just do it.”

  With that, he stood.

  Against best judgment, Ivan picked up his pizza, his cell, and he headed out the door. Blue was across the hall, and he’d realized he’d done that intentionally too. When Elizabeth offered up the vacant room, he’d already known she would.

  Chris Leonard stayed with them non-stop.

  Oh, bloody hell!

  He was sabotaging himself!

  Ivan wanted the woman, and here was the proof. He didn’t do stupid shit, and this…this was insanity. What did he have in common with her?

  Brains?

  No.

  They came from different worlds.

  HUGELY different.

  When Blue had almost sunk into the soft earth of that hole, he’d been frantic to save her. Then when he pulled her out, and she rested on his body, it felt…nice.

  Okay, it felt more than nice.

  It turned him on.

  Crap.

  He was screwed.

  What was he doing?

  Blue was going to laugh her ass off and then hand him his. This was a disaster in th
e making, and he knew it.

  Ivan tried to stop himself, but his body wasn’t listening. Already, he was crossing the hall, his hand was knocking on the door, and he was already in trouble.

  He wanted to run.

  Ivan needed to escape.

  Just when he thought he could pull it off, the door opened, and Blue stood there.

  The woman stole his breath.

  She was wearing a pair of shorts, a tiny tank top, and barefoot. That rich red hair was hanging around her shoulders, and he was out of his element.

  “Yes?” she asked, waiting for him to say anything—since he was knocking her door, and not the other way around.

  “Can we talk?”

  She leaned against the doorframe, but didn’t let him past her. “What would you like to discuss, Mr. Bennet? Was there something left to say to me?”

  Yep.

  Here it came.

  Ivan, the badass Marine, was about to own it. He hoped it didn’t get stuck in his craw.

  “I would like to apologize for my really shitty, rude, and horrible behavior.”

  She lifted a brow.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Are you waiting for me to confirm it? Well, in that case, at least we agree on one thing.”

  He gave in and ate crow.

  BIG.

  MEATY.

  PORTIONS.

  The words stuck in his throat as he tried to put the sentence together. This was hard for him. He often didn’t speak or bother with people. Hanging out with the Blackhawks had been a giant mess.

  Now he actually grew a conscience.

  Well, hell.

  That was inconvenient.

  “I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Blue. All you did was ask very normal questions, and I bit your head off. I apologize. I’m not accustomed to people wanting to know about me. I’m normally invisible. I protect Elizabeth. It’s just a given that I’ll be in the room.”

  She stared at him.

  He was flushed red, and she could tell he was struggling with it. Blue wasn’t a mean person by nature. She didn’t like to see anyone suffer.

  It was time to let him off the hook.

  “Apology accepted,” she said, going to close the door. “Goodnight.”

  “Wait!”

  She stopped. “Yes?”