Revenge has Come (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 19) Page 27

  “What? You asked. I know I’m not right in the head. Don’t judge.”

  That made him laugh.

  “Salem…”

  He put his hand over her mouth and she mumbled something.

  “What?” he asked, moving his palm.

  “I said I hope there’s no dead nun on that glove, or I’m going to toss my cookies on your scrubs.”

  He laughed.

  “You’re good. As for Salem, I’m not going, unless you’re joining me.”

  She knew the truth.

  While she wanted to stop playing the game, she couldn’t. If she did, it would be bad.

  “If I don’t stay, she’ll only escalate and get a million times worse. She’s like that runaway train, and I’m the only idiot who can even slow her down.”

  “The mighty US Marshals could handle it. They stalk stupid on a regular basis.”

  She was beginning to think they were all out of Bonnie’s league when it came to crazy.

  Still…

  “Dakota, while a good hunter, his head isn’t in the game. He’s banging his partner like a drum. He had a hicky and she had facial brush burn.”

  “Well, sex is a good way to relieve stress.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, I know. You should get back on the horse, my friend.”

  He couldn’t bear to do it.

  It hurt his heart.

  Chris’s face must have said it all. Immediately, she began apologizing.

  This was how far gone he was.

  “I was teasing. I’m sorry,” she offered.

  “It’s okay. I think I’m going to focus on Bethe and my job for a while. If someone comes along, I’ll give it a shot. I just have to be ready.”

  “Do me one favor?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Don’t do online dating. You have shitty taste in women when you pick them online,” she teased, referring to the Madeline mess that got them together as a couple.

  He pulled her into his arms, and they stayed like that a few moments. It brought back memories.

  Surrounded by death, they both found that peace.

  “Deal?” she asked.

  “Deal.”

  “Let’s get this rodeo over and done. I don’t like being out in the open at a crime scene. My gut is way off.”

  “Uh oh,” he said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  That was never a good thing.

  Together, they headed out. Chris went back to the body, and she wanted to check everything out.

  She needed to find where the nun had bought it.

  Elizabeth strolled the house, and took it all in. She found blood on the woman’s bed, and a trail to the bathroom. Once inside, she realized this was the ground zero of death.

  There was a tub full of blood. At least nine or ten pints. In the blood, there was a chair. It looked like they tortured her in that bathtub.

  The shower walls were splattered from the spray when they sliced her wrists.

  When Elizabeth turned, she stared into the sink. There was something there.

  It was a long black hair.

  “AMIR!” she called.

  He came running up the stairs.

  “What, boss?” he asked.

  “I think I found a hair. Contain and run it. I see a root ball. There will be DNA on it.”

  He did just that.

  She pointed at the tub.

  “Let me guess. You want me to drain the tub.”

  Oh, he could say that.

  “And?” she asked.

  He stared at her. “You want me to get you the report?” he asked, unsure what she was getting at.

  “No, I want you to bring it all back to the morgue.”

  He laughed.

  Then he saw she was serious.

  “Really?”

  “We’re missing toes, and I don’t doubt she’s left me some trinkets in that blood. She didn’t block up the tub without having one hell of a reason. Bonnie wanted me to play, and we’re missing a saint medallion. It may be in there.”

  He shook his head.

  “She’s insane and a genius all at once. You’ve got your work cut out for you,” he admitted.

  Yeah, she was aware.

  “Just put a rush on that hair and get me something. I have a pair of depraved sickos to catch.”

  It wasn’t looking good.

  Elizabeth headed downstairs.

  “Where are you going?” Chris called.

  “To canvas,” she offered.

  “Alone?” he asked, peeking around the wall. “Is that a good idea?”

  She rolled her eyes and pulled her blazer back. “I think I can handle it, Mom. Want me to text you when I get to the neighbor’s house so you can walk me back home?”

  He laughed.

  “No need to get bitchy, sunshine.”

  She scowled. “If that damn nickname sticks, I’m going to kick Ivan’s ass.”

  He didn’t doubt that at all.

  “Just be safe.”

  Oh, she would.

  She needed to get outside and check with the neighbors. Elizabeth had unanswered questions.

  Where was the nun’s habit?

  It was missing, and that made her curious as hell.

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

  To say that the woman who found the body was distraught would be an understatement. By the time Callen and Ethan got to her, she was a hot mess.

  The medics said she’d cried herself sick, so much that she’d puked twice.

  They had given her a sedative to calm her down.

  This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Rock, paper, scissors?” Callen asked.

  Ethan laughed.

  “Sure.”

  Callen won.

  “You get the weepy woman. I’ll take notes.”

  Ethan was good with that. He was just grateful to be out in the field, that he didn’t care. He’d be more than happy to question the witness.

  He climbed into the back of the ambulance where the woman was sitting on a gurney so they could interview her.

  “Miss?” he asked.

  She looked up. Her dark hair was falling out of the bun, and her eyes were a mess. She had mascara smudged down her cheeks as she wept.

  It was garish looking.

  Then again, what was inside was likely a good reason to weep.

  “Yes?” she asked. “Who are you?”

  That surprised him.

  Generally, everyone in DC knew them.

  “I’m Director Ethan Blackhawk, and this is my partner, Director Callen Whitefox. We’re here to ask you about what happened today, Miss Beard.”

  Tammy sniffled. “A sweet old lady died,” she said. “That’s what happened. I can’t believe someone hurt her. I’m sick over this. Poor Margaret.”

  He sympathetically sat there agreeing with her as he let her speak. When it came to interviews, you learned just as much listening as you did asking.

  “Walk us through what happened when you got to work today,” Ethan asked. “Can you start with your duties here?” he inquired.

  She nodded and Callen handed her another handful of tissues.

  “I’m Margaret’s personal nurse. I come here a couple times a week. Mostly its Monday through Wednesday. I help her with her groceries, her laundry, and just keeping her company.”

  Callen made notes.

  “When did you see her last?”

  “It was Tuesday. I was supposed to come on Wednesday, but I had my son’s birthday party, and I had to go to the school to do a class party.”

  “Okay, so Tuesday, you left, and was she fine?”

  “Yeah, she was doing a crossword. I asked if she wanted tea, she said yes, and I made her a cup. She told me to have a good weekend, and that she’d be fine until Monday all alone. I told her that I’d be popping in today just to check on her. You know, to make up for not being here Wednesday.”

  She began sobbing again.

&
nbsp; Both men patted her leg gently.

  “It’s okay, Miss Beard.”

  “It’s not okay! God! Maybe if I’d been here,” she stated. “Maybe I could have helped her.”

  “You likely would have been killed,” Callen added.

  Ethan agreed.

  “This is not your fault.”

  She looked up with tear filled eyes. “It’s not?” she whispered. “I feel like it is.”

  He reassured her.

  “Tell us about this morning—as much as you can without it upsetting you too much.”

  “I can’t.”

  “She needs your help now. You might be able to help us catch her killer.”

  The woman wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath as she tried to focus.

  “Okay.”

  It was clear the sedative was calming her down.

  She was no longer shaking.

  “I walked in, and the door was suspiciously open, but Sister Margaret was always forgetting about that. It was either leaving the door unlocked, or getting locked out. She’s predictable that way.”

  They let her continue.

  “She had to leave a key beneath the mat for the days when she gets locked out. She once had to walk to the church to make a phone to call to me to let her in. She wanted a key easily accessible for an eighty-five-year-old.”

  Callen made notes to check under the mat.

  “When I walked in, the house smelled…wrong. I can’t explain it, but it was…foul. I thought some of the plumbing had backed up. It smelled like a toilet had overflowed.”

  They knew what it smelled like.

  When a person died, bowel expelled, and the stench…it was unforgettable.

  “Then I began seeing the spattering of blood. It was drips, and then…”

  Ethan urged her on. “Go on.”

  “Then, it was bad. I walked around the corner and there was this…this thing hanging from the railing. I thought it was some Halloween decoration, but Sister Margaret hates that holiday. It couldn’t be that. As I got closer, I realized it was…her.”

  Ethan patted her hand.

  She looked like she was going to throw up again.

  Callen handed her a bucket.

  “I think I’m okay.”

  “Just hold onto it,” he offered. Callen didn’t want to have to ride to the office covered in projectile vomit.

  Yeah, no thank you.

  “Anyway, she was hanging there, but it wasn’t her. She had no head. I looked over at the buffet, and beside the BVM and Jesus…”

  Ethan pretty much could guess what was there.

  “Her head?”

  She nodded.

  “Who would do this to a human being? WHO would do this to a nun? She was peaceful, calm, and she was kind.”

  Tammy crossed herself.

  “Evil. This was pure evil.”

  They didn’t disagree, and since they already knew who had perpetrated the crime, they weren’t shocked.

  “They broke her.”

  And that was the intent.

  Bonnie wanted to go with maximum horror to try and screw with Elizabeth. Little did she know, his wife had a titanium gut when it came to the dead.

  Unless it was children, she wasn’t going to puke or freak out. Elizabeth was the queen of compartmentalizing.

  “You have to find who did this. They need to pay,” Tammy said.

  Oh, they would.

  “Miss Beard, we’ll have a police officer drive you home. You should take something and get some rest.”

  She wept.

  “No need,” she offered through the tears. “I live a block away,” she admitted. “I just want to head to the church first and pray.”

  They got that.

  “I need to light a candle for Sister Margaret.”

  Ethan wasn’t religious, but if that helped her, so be it.

  “I’ll never forget this. For as long as I live, I’ll never forget what I’ve seen today.”

  They didn’t doubt that at all. There were days they felt the same thing.

  Callen motioned to a cop outside the ambulance. “Can you get her through the media so she can head to the church?”

  He offered the woman his hand. “I can, sir.”

  “Get that killer!” she said. “You owe Sister Margaret!”

  With that, she and the cop disappeared into the crowd.

  Ethan sighed when she was gone.

  “What?” Callen asked.

  “You know I don’t want to go into that house, right?”

  He didn’t either.

  “Yeah, I feel the same, but we have to do it. What bothers you the most?” Callen asked, as they climbed out of the ambulance.

  They saw Ivan lurking around. There was no doubt why he was tailing them and not her. Elizabeth must have sicced him on them.

  “That,” he said, pointing at the man.

  “That she ditched her security?”

  “No, that our wife even needs security because of my job. That makes me not want to go into that house. That makes me want to take her home and protect her.”

  Callen got it.

  This was their cross to bear.

  Being married to a strong woman was hard. Being married to a strong woman who fought for justice by playing with nut bags was a million times worse.

  “Let’s just get this over with. I don’t like being out in the open, and I certainly don’t like our woman being out there either.”

  With that, Callen could agree.

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

  Bonnie watched in amusement from the building across the street. She sat in silence and joyfully observed as the cops milled around, the tech vans pulled up, and Elizabeth Blackhawk had gotten out.

  Now she was walking the perimeter.

  When she stopped and looked right at the building where she was, Bonnie’s heart began pounding.

  She knew!

  Elizabeth actually took off her sunglasses and stared at the same window she was peeking out.

  Holy shit!

  This woman had some sick sixth sense about her, and that was unnerving.

  Bonnie knew what that meant.

  It was time to get the hell out of there, but first…

  She’d leave a token for her.

  This was far from over.

  There were more people to kill.

  All because of her.

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

  They found her standing there.

  Both men watched as she looked from the dead nun’s home to the clearly vacant one across the street.

  “Elizabeth?” Ethan asked, touching her arm.

  “She’s going to want to watch,” she said. “Seeing it on the news won’t be enough. She’s going to want to see me show up, look horrified, and then revel in it.”

  Both men went on alert.

  They got it.

  “You think she’s in that house?” Callen asked. “You think she’s watching us—like Clyde did before he shot me?”

  She nodded.

  Yeah, just like that.

  “I definitely feel like I’m being watched.”

  That was enough for them.

  Ivan wasn’t far away.

  She motioned toward him.

  “We need to search that house. I want us paired up. We need someone who can clear a room. Can you?”

  “I can, Director.”

  It was surprising that he wasn’t sarcastic, but then again, it was his job to keep her safe.

  “Good.”

  She looked over at her husbands. “Ethan, Callen, suit up. We’re going to visit that house. I don’t buy that she’s not there—waiting.”

  The men didn’t like this.

  At all.

  Only, they couldn’t stop their wife. She was tracking a killer.

  They had to cross their fingers.

  And pray.

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

>   Capital

  Beltway

  Dakota punched the steering wheel and hissed in frustration. All he wanted was to get to the damn crime scene, but he couldn’t get out of the chaos happening on the four-ninety-five.

  It was a freaking mess.

  He couldn’t believe it.

  Everything was going good, as they were following the Blackhawks, and then the traffic picked up. Somehow, they’d gotten blocked in, and since this was his personal truck, he couldn’t throw on lights—unlike the Blackhawks—whose vehicle had lights and sirens.

  This sucked.

  “Calm down,” Sarah stated. “We’ll be there in thirty minutes. We’re not missing anything. It’s a crime scene. It’s not like the body is going to go anywhere.”

  It caught him off guard.

  That was the first thing she’d said to him since getting on the plane.

  “I need to see the scene. I need to get into Bonnie’s head.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “I need…”

  She looked over, finally over it all. “You know it’s not all about you, right?”

  He was…shocked.

  “What?”

  “There are other people in this world, and you need to stop being a selfish asshole who only thinks of himself. I’m sure everyone here, stuck in traffic, has something important to do.”

  “We’re investigating…”

  She cut him off again. “The victim is already dead. You can’t save her, so stop. Just stop.”

  “Uh,” he began.

  “We’ll get there when we get there. I’m sure the Blackhawks will let you walk around in your self-absorbed stupor to get your Bonnie fix.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  She never spoke to him that way.

  “I’m sure this is an inconvenience on them, too, Dakota. We’re supposed to be helping, so stop making it your cross to bear.”

  He closed his mouth.

  Oddly, he was turned on.

  Women didn’t often talk to him like that. She reminded him of…

  Shit.

  Elizabeth.

  “I’m sorry,” he stated.

  “Whatever. Just drive.”

  Dakota did just that, and the whole time he couldn’t help but think about the woman beside him. He didn’t think she had it in her.