Dead Shall Speak (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 10) (57 page)

Then her phone rang.

Pulling away, she stared deep into his eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Yeah, he was aware. This was torture. He wanted something far more permanent. Only, he didn't know how to get it. It was like Johanna was just out of his reach.

Brody couldn’t speak.

Johanna picked up her phone and answered it. “Yeah, Merry?” she asked, her eyes never leaving her partner’s face. His brown hair was a mess, and she supposed it was from her wandering fingers.

Shit!

Her whole body flushed as her brain went there.

“Okay, thank you. We’re heading back now.”

Hanging up, she glanced over at him. “Someone just tried to kill Elizabeth Blackhawk. We have to get back to the morgue and play babysitter.”

He started the engine. “This isn't over, Joey.”

“Brody,” she stated.

“No. It’s not over.”

What was she supposed to say?

She was damned if she did, damned if she didn't. All she knew was that either way, it was going to make both of their lives incredibly complicated.

Heaven help them both.

~ Chapter Seventeen ~

        Monday Mid-Afternoon

Waking in his bed was scary.

Bonnie Anston was terrified that when she opened her eyes, he’d be there waiting for her. At first, when he asked her out, she’d been excited.

Finally, a guy noticed her.

It wasn’t easy walking through life being a wallflower. In fact, it sucked.

Yet this wasn’t what she wanted.

As he drugged and raped her, she wanted to escape. Unfortunately, his words echoed in her mind.

‘Don’t make me hurt you like the others.’

Then she thought about the news coverage she had just seen. This man was crazy. There was no doubt in her mind that if she even made a break for it, he’d take her life.

That couldn’t happen.

Bonnie knew she needed to bide her time. For now, she had a plan. She was going to make him trust her. Then, when she could get away she would make her escape, or better yet, she’d kill him.

Yeah, she could see herself doing that. She would pick up the biggest object she could find and beat his head in.

Over and over, she’d hit him until he wept like she did at the continual assault.

That gave her an iota of peace.

At that moment in time, it was all she had to keep carrying on. Her plan would have to be enough to carry her through this. If he wanted her to play wife, so be it. She’d do it to the best of her ability until her moment of revenge came. Then, she’d take his life without batting an eyelash.

Looking around the room, it was more a dungeon. The windows had bars, the curtains were drawn, and she was prisoner in his sick and twisted world. She was so afraid. Everything she had before getting in his truck was now stolen from her. Bonnie tried not to weep, even though that’s what she wanted to do.

Right now, she could be at work, smiling at the people around her. She could be free and among the living.

Instead, she was teetering on the cusp of life or death, a puppet to his sick whims.

Bonnie prayed for strength.

She prayed that she didn't end up like the others. The last thing she wanted was to be nothing more than a name on a tombstone in the local cemetery.

She wanted her freedom back. If she could get that one wish granted, she’d never look back. It would be a new beginning for her. She’d travel.

She’d find happiness.

She’d cut all the meaningless ties that held her back.

All Bonnie needed was a miracle.

She sobbed.

The odds weren’t in her favor. Who was she kidding? Bonnie knew it was one hell of a long shot.

All she knew was that the FBI was in town. They’d keep looking for her, right? That was her only hope at this point. Well, that and killing this bastard. How naïve she’d been. He looked so innocent, kind, and gentle. Who would have thought that this man was a bastard?

A killer.

A sicko.

Certainly not her, or she never would have got in that truck for their ‘date’. Taking inventory of the room’s contents, there was a chair, the mattress she was currently resting on, and a little table with water. That must be how he was drugging her.

She made a mental note to get him to stop drugging her.

It was the only way.

For now, she’d swallow the revulsion and play nice. If he kept her medicated, Bonnie wouldn’t be able to fight back.

As she listened to the silence of the little cabin in the woods, there was no sound. He must be at work. He was gone for the day.

Well, she needed to work out a plan.

If she was going to live, he had to die.

Closing her eyes, Bonnie prayed for a miracle. “Please God, send someone to help me. Amen.”

With that final word, the tears came.

She was powerless to hold them back as she knew what was coming.

It was her death…or his.

                                    *    *     *

All three of their phones were continuing to go off. While they would look down, no one would answer them. Gabe was on the hunt and they couldn’t be bothered.

That wasn’t actually true.

They didn't want to be.

Elizabeth had the option to lie to him, but that went against everything she believed to be right. So, if he managed to catch them, she’d be forced to tell him the truth—
Oracle and Jagger Armstrong were in the wind.

Then, he’d need the details.

He’d want them.

No, Gabriel Rothschild, the dragon slayer, would demand them.

With the leak somewhere in their midst, that was a bad idea. So, for now, until she heard back from the Marine, there had to be avoidance. It was for the best.

Gabe wouldn’t stroke out, and she wouldn’t be forced to lie to risk the entire operation. The FBI wasn’t safe, and she couldn’t forget that.

Her allegiance was to the blue and gold, but her compassion was with the woman who was being hunted.

It was a tough position to be stuck in.

Elizabeth couldn’t win on this one. So, she had to pick the side that would give her less guilt in the long run. That meant Avalon’s safety had to come over family ties.

In the hotel room, they bagged up their clothes to turn over for the state police investigation into Sheriff Carlton’s death. It would be a relief to get the blood splattered clothing off and into something less gory.

When they walked into the hotel, everyone around them stared. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it was because a pregnant woman looked like she had just escaped a killer in a movie, or if it was because Ethan Blackhawk had just done his media conference the previous day.

It was a toss-up.

All they knew was that the reporters were staying out of their way, and that was a good thing. Once they got wind that the sheriff was in a body bag, the shit would be hitting the fan.

Oh, there was a maelstrom coming.

It was only a matter of time.

As they got ready to leave, Callen didn't look too happy at the prospect of being left behind. Elizabeth would have preferred to keep their team intact, but she couldn’t risk him. It was easy to see that Callen was babying his arm, despite his assurance that it was perfectly fine.

“Do you want to get mad now or later?” she asked, giving him the option. She’d rather get it over with so later they could curl up and be a happy couple.

He sighed. “I hate when you do that.”

She found that amusing. “Yeah, I know, Callen James. That’s why I do it. It’s called disarming a feisty combatant with my charm.”

He kissed her. “Your charm sucks.”

Elizabeth nuzzled her forehead against his cheek as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She took that moment to absorb some of his strength. Maybe it would get her through the upcoming events. “Yeah, that’s why you love me.”

He did love her. That’s why this whole thing sucked. Whitefox stared over her head at Ethan. The look they shared said one thing.

           
  ‘Keep our woman safe.’

Callen had done a good job, completing his tour for the day, and Ethan Blackhawk was now up to bat.

“I really wish you’d let me go with you,” Callen stated. It wasn’t that he didn't trust his brother to do the job. He just hated being away from them. His heart ached in their absence. Plus, he knew when this case was over, they’d have to go their separate ways once more.

Callen wanted to suck up as much time by her side to get him through the brutal days on the horizon.

Elizabeth wasn’t surprised that the man was being overprotective. They’d nearly had a different outcome, and she knew it.

“I’ll be okay,” she stated. “The pizza place is across the street. As long as I don’t get hit by a bus, we should be golden. The sheriff is dead, the shooter is caught, so what more could happen?”

They didn't even want to go there.

With Elizabeth, it was a gamble.

Both men were already contemplating the myriad of things that could possibly go wrong, and with each one, it sickened them. Their woman was a walking trouble magnet.

“Besides, you get to be my sexy paperwork monkey.”

Callen pulled out his tablet to make notes. “Okay, what do you need done?”

She could tell when he didn't even break into a grin at the nickname that Callen was not in the mood to joke around. With him, that was a very bad sign. He was the easy going one. Apparently, they were both beyond that.

Instead, she went with work to keep him occupied. That always worked for her.

“I need you to cross check all the victims, and the newly abducted woman against the suspects. See if you can tie Bonnie Anston to Wilfred Monroe. She’s pretty young. He might have popped up in her life.”

“You know that the two agents are supposed to be handling this, right?” Callen asked, hoping he could change her mind about leaving him behind. “I think they can handle it.”

She had to cut this one off at the pass.

“Yeah they might, but do you recall how they dropped the ball, and Tony nearly died all because they didn't pick up the connection between mummies and a man who was a missionary in Egypt? That’s a flaming neon sign pointing at the killer. Since then, I like to double check their work. At least until they have more seasoning on them. Green isn't always good.”

Callen got it.

“By now, they should be done tracking down Russell Beston. Get that report for me. Maybe later, we’ll add anything we can to the whiteboard. Ethan, do you have anything to add to the profile?”

“I might,” he offered. “It’s going to depend on what we dig up at the pizza place.”

“Anything else?” Callen asked.

She had one more thing that needed to be done. “Yes, Cal, I need you to contact Wilfred Monroe. Tell him we need to see him tomorrow.”

“And if he tries to blow us off?” he asked.

“Tell him we found something.”

Blackhawk glanced over. “We have?”

“Yeah, I found out that he’s a scumbag pedophile who needs his ass booted to jail.”

That lightened the mood and made the men laugh. At least she still had her sense of humor. Someone needed to at this point.

Now, Elizabeth was ready to get it done. “I love you, Callen James.”

He gave her a kiss. “Watch your back. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

She patted his cheek before heading toward the door. “I’ll be with Ethan. He’s worse than you. Right now, he has a full roll of bubble wrap waiting in the Denali. He’s going to whip me up some puffy britches to wear under my Kevlar.”

Blackhawk shook his head, amused by his wife.

Callen sighed. “I love you, Elizabeth. Don’t risk your ass for anyone!” he warned.

She blew him a kiss over her shoulder. “Darlin’, don’t you worry about lil’ ol’ me,” she drawled. “I’m as mean as a rattlesnake.”

Both men hoped that was true.

Their lives depended on her being badass.

When the door closed, Callen got to work, hoping it would distract him. If he was forced to sit there and think about all the possible things that could go wrong, he’d go insane.

Already, he was half way there.

They made it to the lobby before the concierge stopped them. In his hand, he held four pieces of paper. “Mrs. Blackhawk, ma’am?” he called, getting their attention.

She glanced over at him. “Yes, Johnny?” While she wanted to boot his ass for dropping her title, she realized it would be petty. Technically, she was Mrs. Blackhawk.

“You have some messages. The same man called back, and he’s getting irritated. By the last call, he was using some profanity and said something about coming down here.”

Yeah, Gabe was getting pissed.

Ethan glanced down at her. The look said it all. The last thing they needed was Gabe there, screwing around in their case. They were running out of time and options.

“Thanks, Johnny,” she stated, tucking them in her back pocket.

“Is it true there’s another missing woman? I heard it on the news,” he said, lowering his voice. “What’s happening in our town?”

“Yes, there is.”

“God! This is terrible. Belleville used to be so quiet and calm. Growing up here was like living in a Norman Rockwell painting.”

That sounded horrible to her. Give her mayhem any day of the week. Perfect happy people were generally hiding secrets. No one was that flawless.