Dead Shall Speak (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 10) (27 page)

“What?”

Elizabeth told him about the partial match to the hair and killer, catching him up to speed. What was nice was that because he was an ME, he caught on right away.

“It matched Tony’s DNA?”

He sounded horrified.

“Yeah, it did. We know that it wasn’t a mistake, and no one screwed up, so the lab is off the hook on this one. The zygote was at twenty five percent, and the baby daddy, was at fifty percent of Tony’s alleles.”

Chris thought about it. “Is that why Merry took off today? She rushed out of the lab pretty damn fast.”

“Yes.” Now, Elizabeth had to hope and pray that Tony never noticed.

She sipped her soup, waiting for the man to continue.

“Did Merry run the mother’s DNA?”

“Yep. She was able to eliminate her. She isn't a match for Tony, so that only leaves one possibility.”

Chris wanted to be sick.

This really sucked.

They’d had this happen before with someone on their team. When Elizabeth and Ethan were chasing a serial killer who was focused on pregnant women, the offspring turned out to be related to the Blackhawk and Whitefox family.

“Shit. Do you think that his mother was part of this? Or are you focused on his father?” Chris hoped it was the latter. Tony would have no love lost for the man who abandoned him as a child. In the end, it might hurt a hell of a lot less to know that his sperm donor father had created a monster.

“As of this moment, it’s anyone’s guess.”

“This is going to kill him.”

Elizabeth laid down the warning. “We can’t tell him about any of this. Not yet.”

That was the worst part.

They were going to deceive a friend.

“Lyzee, he’s like a brother to us. He’s just getting over being shot and nearly dying. This is going to break him for a very long time.”

She knew it. “Chris, what choice do I have? If I’m wrong, we opened a wound unnecessarily, and the whole team then finds out about his past. You know Tony didn't tell anyone but us.”

He was well aware.

“If I don’t tell him, and he finds out, it hurts him. Either way, I’m screwed on this one. He’s going to hate me one way or the other.”

“Us,” Ethan corrected. There was no way in hell he was going to let the man be angry with his wife. She wasn’t going to be the messenger who was killed over this.

They were a unit.

All three of them would carry this one.

Chris sighed, knowing she had a very valid point. If there was a time he wished that he was on the outside looking in, this was it. “What can I do to help you?”

Elizabeth outlined her plan. “Tomorrow, he’s going there to extract any data on potential pregnant women from the original grave. We know that if his mother was a victim, she had at least one live birth. We might luck out and the dig team could have been wrong about having a victim who was pregnant at one time. If that’s the case, we’re in the clear. We can then assume that we’re looking at his father.”

That sat better with all of them.

It was wrong, but very true.

“If the team finds a victim who gave birth, we’ll isolate her, keep Tony at the site, and get Jaxon to get moving on a reconstruction. As far as I know, Tony doesn’t have any pictures of his mother. I’ve never seen any of them.”

Chris thought about the man’s place. “Neither have I. He likes to keep that part of his life shut down.”

“Then we use Jaxon. She’s not going to recognize her face, and that might cut us a big enough break until we get a handle on this mess.”

This was a potential minefield.

They all knew it.

“Lyzee, that’s risky as hell.”

“Do you have a better idea? We can try to get medical records, but do you know how hard that will be? Tony’s mother went missing thirty years ago. She was barely thirty when she disappeared.”

He was well aware.

“You know that you’re going to have to let Doctor Armstrong in on this at some point.”

She sat back. “I’m going to keep her in the dark as long as I can.” This was a giant clusterfuck. Tony’s genetic match might be a killer, his mother could be one of their victims, and Jaxon’s father was alive and under protective custody.

Well, holy shit!

Those two had some skeletons in their closets.

“Why do we need to keep her out?” Callen asked. “She could be helpful.”

Chris got it.

He’d known Elizabeth long enough to see right through this ruse of hers.

“When this all blows up in our faces, and it will because it’s only a matter of time, you want him to hate you and run to her if he finds out. You’re giving him a safety net to catch him.”

She didn't have to say a word.

If it meant throwing herself on the sword for someone she loved, so be it. Tony would need someone to hold him up, and his fiancée would fit the bill. Elizabeth knew that it would likely end her friendship, fracture their makeshift family, and open up the opportunity to lose a damn good anthropologist.

They were screwed seven ways to Sunday.

“I need time to dig, Chris. All I’m asking is that you keep him off the trail in the lab. We talked to Merry. The DNA is password protected. We can say that it’s our new policy since the last case where the team screwed up.”

“I don’t know, Lyzee.”

“Okay, let’s try it this way. If we took Tony out of the equation, and you had these remains, what would you tell me about them?”

“That you likely have two different killers. One was a lefty, one was a righty.”

“Okay, so we can postulate that the current killer knew about the killings then. Who better to do that?”

“It would be someone who watched it happen, possibly a child raised in that setting,” Ethan added. “This is part of my profile. The original killer started thirty some years ago, and this could be his progeny.”

“Okay. Now, we factor in the rest of the details. We have a person whose mother went missing not far from here. Tony is originally from Indiana. That’s a couple hundred miles away. We already suspect that the killer is now looking for women outside his normal hunting grounds. Where did he learn that?”

“I hate that you have a very valid point,” stated Chris. “I feel like I’m betraying my brother.”

“If it’s any consolation, so do I,” she stated. “Unfortunately, what are the chances that we have a killer with fifty percent of Tony’s DNA and not have it be a person related to Tony?”

“You know that’s impossible, Lyzee. You don’t need a lesson in genetics one-oh-one.”

“You’re right. I’m aware. We’re screwed here, my friend. Now we have to try and navigate it with the least amount of damage to Tony. If he finds out, I’ll take the fall. He’s going to need you to be there for him. You and Jaxon will patch him back up and get him to heal.”

Even when her eyes filled with tears, she couldn’t let the emotion free. “This is a direct order, Christopher. Not friend to friend, but as your boss, I’m demanding you do your job and not question me on this. You’re going to obey this directive, or I’m going to fire you.”

He suspected that was total BS, and that she was protecting him. There was no way she’d can his ass over this. A part of him wanted to call her on it, but he saw how distressed it was making her. She was pregnant. Chris didn't want to hurt her either.

When he saw Elizabeth’s hand on the table, he took it in his. “Okay, Lyzee. I’ll try and keep this from blowing up on my end.” While he’d do anything for Tony, he and Elizabeth had a special bond. She’d saved his life. For an hour, she held an artery in his leg closed to ensure he saw his wife again. Chris owed her, and that was all that mattered.

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Chris.”

He went back to eating his dinner, this horrible dread filling his gut. Doctor Christopher Leonard hated that the woman he considered his sister was offering herself up to protect a man they called brother.

Someone was bound to lose. The gamble was just too big.

He could see that.

And Chris knew she did too.

Now they had to hope fate wouldn’t screw with them—
at least not too much.

                                                *    *    *

When he turned his back, going into the bathroom, she made her break for it. There was very little time to get a head start, and she wished that she was wearing shoes.

Magdalene was woozy.

Off balance.

Scared.

But, she had no choice. If she didn't make her break, he would use her as a baby making machine.

When the bathroom door closed, she quietly unwound the chain and headed for the door. All she could hope was that the click of the bolt wouldn’t alert him.

If it did, she was going to pay.

She could see the crazy in his eyes.

It would erupt around her.

With steady hands, she opened the door and made a break for it. The house was in the middle of nowhere, and she needed to get to a road.

Picking a direction, Magdalene headed toward the brightest patch of stars.

All she wanted was to be home.

With her step-mom.

Her dad.

Her old life.

Now, she’d have to fight for it. If she didn't make it, there was no way he’d trust her alone again.

It was a risk, but she was willing to take that chance.

With unsteady feet, she crashed through the bramble, cutting up her face and arms. It stung, and her feet burned from the rocks and debris, but there was no stopping.

She didn't want to be raped again.

She didn't want the spawn of Satan giving her a child.

Magdalene didn't want any part of his future.

She wanted her own.

As the sound of oncoming cars filled her ears, she knew that there was a chance to flag one down. When the chain around her neck got caught around a branch, she had no choice but to stop and set it free.

That’s when she saw him.

He wasn’t far behind, and he looked so very angry.

She screamed for help, knowing that it was her only chance of getting attention.

She needed to be free.

Magdalene just wanted to go home and heal.

Angry fingers dug into her shoulder, spinning her around. His fist swung out, striking her in the face before taking her to the ground. Then, he was on her.

The beating began.

The whipping started as he used the chain to punish her.

The rage flooded him, rushing from his mouth in a roar of anger, while hers was nothing but a whimper of pain.

“You’re a horrible, horrible wife!” he hissed, wrapping the chain around her throat. With it, he began choking the life from her smaller, broken body.

When she would black out, he’d release her only to revive her so he could beat her more. The snap of her bones and his heavy breathing were the only sounds that filled the night air.

When his hands came away bloodied, he knew what he needed to do. Using the metal around her neck, he dragged her toward the nearby river. Once there, he shoved her in and watched her eyes pop open.

She was drowning.

With nails, she struggled.

With silent pleas, she begged.

It didn't matter.

He was furious.

“You shouldn’t have made me mad, Magdalene. I would have taken very good care of you. This is your punishment. If I can’t have you, then you’re of no use to anyone!”

With that, he watched life leave her.

She was dead, and now so were his chances to be a father.

In anger, he shoved her further into the water, only to watch her toes bob to the surface as she floated away.

When she was no longer in sight, he headed back toward his home.

“Damn you, Magdalene! You were nothing but a worthless whore too! How hard is it to find a good woman to make me a family?”

With that, he went in to have a beer.

He needed to think.

He needed to calm down.

His needs weren’t met, and now he was alone.

The next woman would be better. She had to be. If he couldn’t find a wife, how could he have a fulfilling life?

He pondered his options and mourned his loss, not once thinking about what he stole from her. All that mattered was his future.

It had to come first.

                                                *    *    *