Deep Dark Mire (An FBI Romance Thriller ~ book four) (72 page)

“
Is Lyzee going to be alright?” whispered Whitefox, bringing Chinese into the room and placing it on the table beside the bed.

“Yea
h, right now she’s just getting her bearings with all the bits and pieces we have. In a little while she’ll be on the board, and then she’ll talk it through with us. Give her a few minutes to adjust and get directionality. I haven’t been able to help her much on this one, and it’s weighing her down.”

Callen sat in the chair
, dropping his booted ankle to his knee and observed the two people he loved. It was fascinating to watch them process it all. While Whitefox was at Quantico in training, the classes that dealt with profiling always referenced his brother. He found it entertaining that the man who he grew up with was that damn good at something.

Then again, as boys he was really good at stealing cars and chasing girls.
Oh the complete irony of that wasn’t lost on him. The car thief and womanizer was now head of FBI West and a married family man.

It was funny how life had twists and turns.

Then there was Elizabeth Blackhawk. She was excellent at being the one
who took the profile and made the pieces pop together, giving them the identity of the killer. He wasn’t sure which was harder, but he knew they just worked well together.

As
for himself, he wasn’t quite sure what his role was in the team. He couldn’t profile like his brother, or piece it together like Elizabeth. Mostly he went with what ‘felt’ right or wrong, using his gut to lead the way. It was how he mediated for the Native tribes as liaison. Maybe that was his only skill.

He handed his brother chopsticks as he joined him at the table, and they proceeded to eat in silence, not wanting to distract Elizabeth from her thoughts.

Before long, she stood from the bed and went to the board, pulling out the photos of the two victims, and then stared at them, looking perplexed. Elizabeth stood there for about ten minutes and didn’t move the entire time.

“Ethan, I need that profile. I feel like I’m missing something. Give me everything that you can on the killer.”

Blackhawk leaned back in his chair. “It’s not much, baby. I’m tripped up on a few things.”

“Spill them, maybe we can help you navigate,” she said, writing on the whiteboard. “Talking it out sometimes helps.”

“I’m caught up on the fact that the killings happened so far apart, but then the location is key too. One directs me to multiple killers, the other to one person of interest. ”

“What’s your big sticking point?” she asked.

“How likely the scene was used by two random killers.”

“There was no way that body was ‘accidentally’ stumbled on and the second related victim placed there. The killer either was the same or they shared the information. You didn’t get to see that scene, Ethan, but it was up in a rock cliff. You
couldn’t stumble on it,” Whitefox added. “Plus it was just bones. A killer of victim two wouldn’t be able to look at the first set of remains and just know it was Trinity Adare.”

“Go with your gut, Ethan,” she stated.

Blackhawk continued eating his takeout. Looking at his wife, knowing she needed something. “I say two killers.”

“It feels like a better fit for me too,” added Whitefox. “But now you need to connect how the second killer knew the first location.”

“Okay, so let’s break the first part of the profile and murders down,” suggest Elizabeth. “We have Trinity Adare, a young woman when she disappeared.”

“Your age,” offered Blackhawk.

“So we know for a fact that she was unhappy with her mother’s Pagan ways. So, she goes to God for guidance. In her path to finding him, she falls for a man and then that leads to an affair that lasts long enough to produce two children.”

“This is a big part of why I say two killers.”
Blackhawk stated. “I think we can eliminate a man younger than her as the lover. We can assume that at the time of death, she was seeing someone at least her age if not older.”

“Why?” asked Whitefox.
“How can you possibly know that?” Here’s where he needed to learn as much as he could from them.

“The wounds,” suggested Elizabeth. “Remember our little demonstration in the lab, and the sexual position that gave her all those fractures?”

“Uh, yeah I do. I was the lucky one that got to get into the position with you.” Whitefox winked at her.

“Think back to when you were eighteen
, Cal,” she said. “Ever get into that position at that age?”

He thought about it. “No. I was too in a hurry to climax to get into creative positions. Control at eighteen
wasn’t high on my list of things to worry about. I was working too hard to get the girl naked, and I wanted to seal the deal relatively fast and get off.”

“
It’s the same with me at that age.” Blackhawk continued, “The man that got her into that position had to be relatively strong and have a considerable amount of control. A boy couldn’t hold a grown woman in that position for as long as it would take to perform the act and cause the damage. Those fractures took a period of pounding. I would even say that possibly longer than needed.”

Elizabeth tended to agree, but then she’d read the journal.

“Callen, how long could you hold Elizabeth in that position during sex and would it interfere with you ‘sealing the deal’?”

He thought about it. “I’m considerably stronger now than I was at eighteen
, and Lyzee is really light. I think I can safely say I could get us both there before I had to put her down.”

Elizabeth grabbed her container of Chinese and leaned against the wall. “What else do you have, Ethan?” she asked, eating some of her dinner.

“If I had to go deeper into the assessment and go out on a limb, I’m going to say the killer was an older man. Think about it. It took him a while to reach orgasm. At our ages, unless we’re really trying to hold back, it’s still relatively fast.”

Elizabeth went to say something.

“Don’t go there, Elizabeth,” he answered, laughing.

“Come on! Two men
in my damn bed, and I can’t even comment?”

“NO!” They both said simultaneously.

Callen was bringing up something he hoped never happened to him. “Maybe he was frustrated that it wasn’t happening. He had the strength, and it wasn’t stamina, but sheer frustration that he just couldn’t get off. Maybe she sustained the fractures because her sexual partner was getting frustrated that he couldn’t ‘seal the deal’?”

Blackhawk shook his head. “I pray this is the ONLY time in our lives we’re discussing the inability to get off,” he muttered, and then looked over at his wife.
“Behave!”

“Back then there wasn’t Viagra
, boys.” Elizabeth so wanted to say something, but both were looking at her like they expected it. “If we look at the journal, I think it tends to point to older too. Every reference is of ‘Mr. Sexy, ‘experienced’, and ‘very giving in bed’. When a woman is talking about a lover, and says those phrases, it generally means compensation for other things.”

“Hey!” T
hey both interjected.

“Relax boys, you’re both very giving in bed, and experienced, but
when a woman says those things to a girlfriend about the man she’s having sex with, it’s not a compliment. Maybe this applies to this situation with the journal or possibly he was overcompensating for that specific issue.”

“I hope you’re not using those terms when you talk to Livy,” laughed Blackhawk. Livy Rothschild was Elizabeth’s best friend, and their boss’s wife.

“No, trust me I’ve never said those things. Wait until I tell her about Callen. I almost want to call her now.”

Whitefox started choking on his soda. “WHAT?”

Elizabeth patted him on the back. “No worries, Cal, she tells me about Gabe, and I don’t pass the information on either. It’s all about the girlfriend code. We both compare and contrast when we’re talking.”

Now he felt sick. “Did you and Desdemona discuss me, and her and…”

Elizabeth just laughed and winked. “Anyway, the journal also calls him a ‘father figure’.”

“Maybe she
liked to call him daddy in bed or thought of him in that way.” Whitefox stated, still not feeling well over the idea that Elizabeth may have discussed him with his ex. “If that’s ever to happen for us, remember Ethan’s older.”

Blackhawk whipped his chopsticks at his brother.

Elizabeth ignored them both. “Okay, so let’s go with that whole thing. You and I are in bed Ethan, and we’re rolling around. If I called you daddy, would it fit?”

He thought about it. “No.”

“How about with you, Callen?” she asked, eating more Chinese.

“I don’t think so.”

“Me either, because you two don’t feel like ‘father figures’ to me. We’re all what, two years apart in age? I look at you both and think sexy, handsome, hot, amazing in bed, but never once ‘father figures’. When I think ‘daddy’ in bed, I think older man that’s more dominant, bossy and demands authority.”

“Agreed.”

Elizabeth paced the room thinking about the victims. “We also have two means of murder. Strangulation and then one woman was gassed and then drown.”

“Two different modes of murder
generally means two killers, doesn’t it?” inquired Whitefox.

“Generally yes it does, unless the killer is escalating or the first was a crime of passion and the second a means of opportunity.”

She walked over and sat in Whitefox’s lap.

“The only thing that’s really tripping me up is the location of the victims found. Everything else points to two killers,” stated Blackhawk.

“Ethan, after talking it out, what do you feel? I need your gut instinct on this and then I can focus on a direction.”

“I say two. Usually a killer will carry through with the same means of murder. It’s like their signature. Then you toss in the twenty five years, and that says to me two men. A killer isn't going to kill, stop, and then suddenly kill again.
He may take a break, but not almost three decades.”

“You realize
that this is now messier than before,” stated Whitefox, kissing Elizabeth on the ear. When she didn’t even respond, he knew she was deep into thinking.

She stared at the board taking it all in and not seeing the one missing piece
. Elizabeth knew that she needed to pull it all together. “Here,” she handed her husband her Chinese and stood from Callen Whitefox’s lap. “I just need to think about this.” Elizabeth went to the bed and laid on it, staring at the board. “It’s right there and I need that final thread to tie it up.”

“Come on Cal. Let’s work on some of the tech reports that have been coming in, and give Lyzee some time to just think it out.”

Both men left the room and headed to the Rose room. They grabbed their work and started wordlessly sifting through all the tech reports. Sometimes it was just best to let her work through all of it in her own way, and that meant just walking away and giving her space.

Elizabeth stared at the board. First she read what she wrote, and then she thought about the killer, and tried to put herself in the place of the victims.

It didn’t take long. Elizabeth Blackhawk slipped into a dream filled sleep.

Staring down at her, even in sleep, she made his heart skip a beat. There Elizabeth lay, exhausted, a concussion and carrying the weight of the entire assignment on her shoulders. Callen ached for her, wishing he could help carry the stress. He knew that she was feeling.

Callen
leaned down and kissed her gently on her lips. “I love you,” he whispered.

“She’s exhausted,” stated
Blackhawk from the doorway. “Elizabeth works herself into the ground and then even goes further.”

“I worry about her,” he said. “D
o we carry her to bed in there or do we just pull her boots off, remove her gun and join her in here?”

Ethan grinned. “We follow wherever she leads
, and we join her there. Because a happy wife is a happy life, Cal. Memorize it, repeat it daily and consider that the best damn advice I could ever give you. If you need to, tattoo it on your hand. It’s the husband’s creed.”

Whitefox felt his stomach flip at the word
‘husband’. If only that was possible, and then his life would be complete. Then he glanced down at the two rings on her finger and smiled. Life was still pretty damn good even without the paper.

Both men grabbed a boot, and then her gun,
stripping down themselves. If she was sleeping in this room, then so were they.

“Night Ethan,” said his brother, as he curled against one side of Elizabeth.

“Night Cal,” he answered, mimicking the position and placing a hand protectively over her torso and his brother’s arm.  “Good night baby, I love you,” he whispered, before following his family into sleep.

Elizabeth stood in a field listening to the wind and chimes sing to her. As she looked around, immediate recognition dawned. She was in the burial grounds back on the Rez. The overwhelming hurt slammed into her heart, as the ache filled her over the man they all lost.