Past Will Haunt (21 page)

He smiled.

“It was yell or puke. I haven’t tossed my cookies yet, so I hung in there.”

“As a reward, I have a present for you.”

He stared at her. “Uh, you’re not going to tell people about my boxers, are you?”

That piqued Livy’s attention. “What? You saw him in his boxers? When were you going to tell me that?”

She shook his head. “I take that back. You still have a lot to learn. You just threw me under the partner bus and gave away too much information.”

Chris stared at Livy. “How was I supposed to know that she didn't know that you called me your boyfriend, stole my clothes, and we had raunchy sex? I figure you two were close.”

Livy stared openmouthed. “What?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Nice one. You threw me under the bestie bus twice. I won’t forget that. This is war, Doc. It may take me twenty years, but I’m going to make sure that I win.”

He grinned, feeling so much better.

“Uh, are you going to explain?” Livy asked. “I’m stuck on boxers and raunchy sex. My head is spinning.”

She snorted. “Actually, I can’t tell you. Oddly, he’s part of the girlfriend code. I just don’t know how yet. So, you’ll have to write it off as a private joke between friends.”

“Fine. I’ll make it up in my head, and you’re going to wish I didn't.”

Oh, she was pretty sure about that.

“You said I had a present coming. What is it?” Chris asked, changing the focus.

“Want to go away with me for the night?”

His mouth dropped open. “You better not be bullshitting me. I think I’m asleep still.”

Elizabeth snorted and then pinched him on the arm. When he yelped, she grinned. “See? You’re wide awake.”

“Well, where exactly are we going away to?”

“You and I are taking a little field trip to Boston. We have a date with the crime scene and the ME. Are you up for it?”

He stared. “What?”

“Am I speaking French? You and I are going away. Us. We. Trip. Jet.”

“Together? Alone?”

Livy started laughing. The man was staring at her partner like she was the next coming of Christ. It was amusing. Someone had a crush on Elizabeth LaRue. This was going to be interesting to see play out.

“Yes. You plus me equals we. Gabe won’t allow me to go alone, and Livy has a prior engagement, so tag. You’re it.”

“Together?” he asked again.

She laughed. “Chris, keep up. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“No, really? Together?”

“That was the plan, unless you have a problem with that. I know you’re in the middle of an autopsy, but we need to be out of here by six, land by a little after seven, and head to the hotel. Tomorrow, we can do the work before we head home.”

He nodded. “I can be ready.”

“We can swing by your place, grab your things, and be on the road.”

He swallowed. “My place?”

“What? Do you bring your work home?”

He shook his head, knowing that no one was going to his place. At that moment, his mother, Morganna, was there, and the last thing he needed was for a woman, let alone this one, to run into her. It wasn’t happening.

He’d never live it down.

“Are you okay, Doc? You look kind of green.”

“It’s the booze. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, in that case, finish up your autopsy. I’ll need details on the flight. Make sure you copy Livy, so we can both keep this simple.”

Chris stared. “Yes, Lyzee.”

“Okay, Doc, I’ll see you in a couple hours. Be ready to hit the road.”

He followed them out.

“Can you call me when you’re on your way back to pick me up?” he asked.

“Sure can.”

Then she realized that she still had his keys. Elizabeth could see the techs watching, so she did something to ensure they’d stay off his back. Elizabeth pulled the keys out of her pocket and handed them to him. Then, she leaned in to whisper in his ear. To everyone else, it looked like a kiss on the cheek, and then a very private conversation.

Chris tensed.

“Thanks for the loaner. I owe you one.”

When she walked away, he was struck mute.

“Oh, and Doc, no matter what you hear, I wasn’t going that fast when the cops pulled me over. They might be calling you to tell you that I stole your car. Apparently, they didn’t think a girl like me could be your girlfriend.”

Livy laughed.

Chris didn't know what to say, but he could have kissed her.

“There’s not a scratch on her. See you later, Christopher. Be ready for our trip.”

He stared down at the keys.

Screw it.

She could blow it up if she wanted.

He and Elizabeth were going away.

Together.

This day was unforgettable.

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

Gabe sat in his office, making sure that all the plans were taken care of for the trip. He wished he could say he was focused on the case, but he really wasn’t.

He was thinking about Livy.

Their night.

All the things that were to come.

If he was making the biggest mistake of his life…

Everything was swirling around his normally organized brain, stirring him up. What he wanted as the outcome was likely never going to come to fruition.

He couldn’t get that lucky.

This was destined to blow up in his face.

In his heart and mind, he’d already laid everything out. A part of him had already begun planning their future. Apparently, he was crazy. Even though he knew Livy was a wildcard, and she’d likely turn it upside down, he still had hope. Since he’d never felt like this before, he wanted this one thing more than he’d ever craved power at the FBI.

She did this to him.

Livy was his undoing.

The only thing that gave him peace was having all his ducks lined up, and at that moment, he was anything but controlled.

How did people live like this?

Then he realized something that only added to the pressure. He was going to her house for dinner, and he should probably bring her flowers.

Wasn’t that what men did?

This was a date. He should behave accordingly.

This was proof that he was out of his mind. He was worried about first impressions, when he’d worked with the woman for almost a year.

Great.

He was losing it.

But still… flowers would be nice. Now, if he only knew what kind she liked.

So, he took a chance.

Dialing Elizabeth’s phone, he waited for her to answer. “Special Agent LaRue.”

“Don’t say my name.”

There was a pause. “Uh, okay.”

“I want to bring Livy flowers tonight, but I don’t know how to do any of this. I’ve never had a date this important. What’s appropriate? Roses? Does she like them? Is she allergic? Is that making too big of a statement? You have to help me out, Lyzee. I’m all tied up in knots.”

She knew he had to be. She’d never heard Gabe so stressed out, and they had tough jobs. This was freaking flowers! How could you mess it up? You walked into a florist, picked something pretty, paid, and walked out.

It was a no brainer.

Since he was freaking out, that was saying a lot.

“Well, Aunt Rose. I think that dying your hair red is a great idea. Red is a fantastic color. Livy, my partner, loves red. She wouldn’t go with any other color.”

Gabe got it.

“Okay, so red roses. Doesn’t that mean love? I don’t want to scare her. Maybe I should cancel. I tend to come on too strong.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Aunt Rose. If you cancel now, you’ll get your hair stylist pissed off, and she may never see you again. You don’t want that to happen, right?”

“No. No, I don’t. Is this a bad idea?” he asked. “What if someone finds out?”

“I love you, Aunt Rose. If I thought you were making a mistake, I would warn you. As for Uncle Sam, screw him. If he finds out, you’ll be okay. Go with red and have fun. If you don’t, you’ll always regret it.”

“Thank you, Lyzee. I owe you one.”

“That’s what family is for,” she offered. “Talk to you later, Aunt Rose.”

When she hung up, he relaxed. He could do this. All he had to do was order roses, not look like a chump, and not get caught having hot sex with someone he worked over.

How hard could it be?

Oh, shit.

He was screwed.

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

When she hung up the phone, Elizabeth tried to keep a straight face, but Livy was staring at her.

Her partner wasn’t an idiot.

There was no way that she’d buy any of that conversation. First of all, Livy knew she didn't have any family other than her father, step-mother, and half-brother. Apparently, Gabe didn't have a clue that the two women shared all their secrets. Then again, he might be so rattled that he didn't realize what he’d just done.

“Gabriel?”

She laughed. “Oh, yeah.”

“Code for flowers?”

Elizabeth started laughing. “Yep.”

“He thinks I wouldn’t figure that out?”

“Apparently.”

Instead of being angry, she was actually touched. He was taking their date serious. It looked like he didn't do anything halfway.

That impressed her. For that, and that alone, Livy was going to blow his mind.

“I love red roses.”

“I know, and now more importantly, so does he.”

“One day, if you ever fall in love, I swear I’m going to make sure the man who is crazy about you treats you right. I won’t wait for him to call me. I’m going to hound him until he spoils you rotten!”

She stared at her in horror.

“Why the hell would you say that to me? Don’t even put that shit out there. I don’t want a man. I like being single! Plus, we’re supposed to be friends!”

Livy laughed.

“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. Elizabeth LaRue is going to be a bachelorette for life.”

Damn right she was.

And that was best for everyone.

CHAPTER SIX

The Bog

Wednesday Noon

When they rolled up, they were pleasantly pleased to see the place was open. That was saying a lot, especially since it was still early in the day.

Apparently, the Irish in DC were hardcore about their beer. They liked to start the partying early. More power to them. Elizabeth wasn’t about to head down that road. She liked her liver functioning.

As they headed in, they could smell something wafting through the air, and it wasn’t booze.

“Is that food?” Livy asked. “I didn't get to eat this morning. We have to eat. I need fuel.”

Elizabeth stared at her. “You want to eat in a place that serves booze all night?”

“Yes. Why?”

She shook her head. “I think that’s a horrible idea. I want to go on the record right now that this was all your plan, and I had nothing to do with it.”

She laughed. “Okay. It was all me. You’re getting worried for nothing. I have a cast iron stomach.”

If Livy wanted to go there, so be it. “Let’s make this a working lunch. You’ll eat, and I’ll work. I won’t eat in a dive bar. I know better. Apparently, you’ve hit your damn head, and hard.”

“Why don’t you join me? You could stand to gain some weight.”

Elizabeth stared down her body. “Did you just call me skinny?”

She laughed.

“I called you starving.”

“I ate this morning. I happened to have breakfast with Chris.”

She grinned but didn't say a word. It was more than enough to convey what she was thinking.

“Shut up. I’m not dating him. He got shitfaced drunk, and I brought him to my place.”

“Is that a war wound on your lip or did lover boy get a little too enthusiastic.”

She stared at her. “You know how it got there. The steroid junkie grazed me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey! That’s how it happened. Besides, I couldn’t take Chris home. I was worried about leaving him alone at his place. My luck, the ME would choke on his own vomit, and I’d get reamed by Gabe and HR.”

“I think it’s more.”

Elizabeth took a seat in the sticky booth. It smelled like Guinness and that turned her right off to food. Livy was bat shit insane to eat anything in this place. She’d have a better shot at not getting sick by licking the floor.

“It’s not more, Livy.”

“Liar liar, your britches are on fire.”

“Your face is going to be sore,” Elizabeth warned, “and then we’re going to be on the news when I kick your ass.”

Livy wasn’t afraid of her partner. She knew the truth. Elizabeth LaRue was a softie. Underneath all that southern fire was a gentle person with a good heart.

“Why won’t you date him?”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s about one year younger than us.”

“He acts like a child.”

“He’s an ME. That’s pretty mature.”

“I’m a disaster with men, and you know it. I like the bad boys who are covered in tattoos and have chips on their shoulders. I like ones who will do stupid things and break my heart. Okay?”

“At least you’re honest.”

“Besides, Livy, he’s sweet. He reminds me of some soft cuddly bunny that you want to protect, not hump.”

She laughed. “Rabbits do it a lot. I bet they have fun.”

Elizabeth pointed at her as the waitress came toward their table. She was a bright eyed, smiling redhead with freckles across her nose.

“What can I get you ladies?”

“Not ladies, FBI,” Elizabeth said, pulling her badge. Livy followed suit.

“We will be eating.”

“We won’t be,” Elizabeth said, trying to keep her partner from getting sick.

“What can I do ‘fer ya then?”

“We need to speak to the owner. Can you tell me who it is?”

She beamed with pride.

Elizabeth didn't get that. She honestly hoped this woman wasn’t proud of this place. At night in the dark, the booze would numb you to the reality of it. Now that the sun was up, she could see how run down the place was.

“My father is the owner. I’ll get him and some of the breakfast special for you too.”

The woman headed off.

“I have to eat. I have a high metabolism.”

“When you end up at the ER tonight with Gabe, vomiting up your colon, don’t blame me.”

“Spoil sport.”

Elizabeth laughed as the waitress put two cups of coffee down before them. “The food will be right out.”

Great.

Elizabeth couldn’t wait.

As they sipped their coffee, which wasn’t bad, a lumbering redheaded man headed their way.

“You needed me?” he asked. “I’m Timothy O’Leary. I own this pub.”

“Park it,” Elizabeth said, flipping over her badge so it stood on the sticky table. “You’ve been summoned by the FBI.”

He flipped a chair around and straddled it. The look on his face was of bewilderment.

“I paid my taxes, and no one’s illegal here.”

She laughed. “You know, every time someone says that to us, the opposite is true. It’s like pointing out the obvious in hopes that someone will believe you.”

Livy nodded. “She’s right. That’s the case, nine times out of ten.”

“Okay, why are you in here busting my balls? I just opened this place. You’re not some crooked Feds trying to milk me of my money, are you?”

Elizabeth leaned forward. “First off, if you’d shut up, you’d find out why we’re here. Secondly, let’s not use your balls and ‘milk me’ in the same sentence. It makes me want to take a shower in disinfectant to get clean.”

The man laughed loudly. “I like you. Are you single?”

“No.”

Livy went to open her mouth and Elizabeth kicked her in the shin. She didn't need her partner trying to hook her up with a man who was old enough to be her father.

Seriously.

“Let’s get back to the original conversation. Where was this gem of a business before you dropped it smack dab in the middle of Capitol city?” Elizabeth asked.

“I used to have it in Boston. We were doing well there, but the mob made my life miserable. When some bruiser tried to buy my daughter and marry her, I got the hell out.”

Livy and Lyzee stated at each other.

“Really?”

“Yes. I moved here last year.”

“That’s interesting. Do you know these women?” Elizabeth asked, pulling a file from her messenger bag?

When she placed the pictures on the table, she prayed they’d come unstuck.

“Hey! That’s Stephanie! She’s my waitress.”

“When did you see her last?”

He thought about it, rubbing his big meat hook hands over his face. “I think it was two nights ago when she got off work. She never showed last night for her shift. My daughter was going to cover for her, but she had already worked that morning.”

Elizabeth pulled out the bag with the cocktail napkin in it. “Are these her hours?”

He checked them out. “Yes, they are. Has something happened to her?”

“Yeah, she was murdered. You can bet she won’t be showing up for work tonight either.”

He gasped. “Oh no! That’s horrible! I feel bad that I complained about her ditching her shift.”

“It was all over the news.”

“I don’t watch television. It rots the brain.”

Elizabeth could bring up the fact that he sold copious amounts of booze and that rotted the liver, but who was she to judge?

As they sat there, the waitress carried over two plates of food. It looked like a plethora of animals committed suicide over the top of the potatoes.

Crap!

If she ate this, she was going to be sick. No one should consume this much grease.

She watched in horror as Livy dove in.

“Timothy, was anyone bothering her the night she was last seen alive?” Elizabeth asked, watching the man’s face. She wasn’t big on coincidence and this man was in Boston last year, right where the killer had played his sick games.

Was he the one murdering the women?

Could he be the connection?

“No one would say a bad word to Stephanie. She was a gem. She left work, headed out, and I thought made it home. She didn't live far from here.”

They were aware.

“How about this girl?” Livy asked with a mouthful of bacon.

Elizabeth gave her the look. She’d seen her partner take down food before, but she seriously thought she had a tape worm.

Livy ignored her.

“She looks familiar, but I’m not sure. After a while, everyone starts to look the same in here. I can ask my daughter. She works the floor and might have seen her.”

He whistled, and the bright-eyed girl returned and she lovingly dropped her arm over her father’s shoulders.

“Yes, Dad?”

“Meghan, my love, I need you to talk to these two garda and tell them anything you know. They’re working on an investigation.”

Elizabeth corrected him. “We’re the FBI not cops. They’re two different things.”

The girl continued smiling. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Have you seen this girl in here?”

The woman stared at the picture. Then, it was like the lightbulb went on.

“That’s Missy Kelly. She comes in and has a few drinks, smokes with the men, and then usually takes one home. She’s one of our loyal evening customers.”

Yeah, not anymore.

“How about this one?” she asked, showing them a picture of the waitress.

“She works here.”

“Well, these two ladies won’t be coming here for work and pleasure. Unfortunately, they’re both dead.”

The young woman gasped. “Oh no! Stephanie was a wonderful person. I can’t believe this! Poor Missy! She was loose, but harmless.”

“Well, believe it. They’re gone.”

“This is horrible,” she said.

“Yes, and what’s ironic is that
‘The Butcher’
, as he’s been named, liked Boston a great deal. In fact, he came here from that fine city.”

Timothy looked confused. “I’ve heard of him. Everyone has, but I was long gone before he started killing. I’m sorry, but it wasn’t my pub. I know what you’re thinking, but I have nothing to do with this.”

“Why did you pick DC?” Livy asked.

“It seemed like a busy city where I could make my business work. I needed out of Boston. The mob was squeezing me for money, and when they focused on my daughter, I couldn’t stay. I wanted to be where it was safe for Meghan to grow up, marry, and start a family.”

Elizabeth made notes in her little paper notepad. “So, you recall the news of
‘The Butcher’
?”

“Yes. While I don’t watch the news, I do read the papers. It was all over the headlines.”

Livy finished her food. “Can I have yours?” she asked her partner.

Elizabeth couldn’t believe Livy. Where the hell was she putting it? In a hollow leg? Instead of commenting, she pushed it toward her. “Go ahead. I’m not hungry.”

“Was anyone bothering Missy?” Livy asked, as she prepared to devour the rest of the food.

“No,” offered Meghan. “She did her thing and that’s it. I remember cutting her off, since she was starting to get tipsy. I worked last night, even though I wasn’t supposed to, and I feel horrible. Maybe if I didn't send her out of here, she’d still be alive.”

Elizabeth knew this wasn’t her fault. The killer was a watcher. Missy was likely his target well before Meghan sent her home.

“I was cranky last night. When Stephanie didn't show, I pulled a double. It looks like I’ll be working again tonight too.”

It was understandable.

“Off the top of your head, when did she leave? Can you recall?”

“I’m going to say around twelve thirty. Hey! You were here! I remember you with that really geeky guy who nearly got his ass kicked.”

Elizabeth closed her mouth.

Crap!

“You kicked the shit out of that big baboon who was picking on your boyfriend.”

Livy snorted.

“Yeah, that was me. Guilty as charged.”

Timothy looked confused as he looked back and forth between Elizabeth and his daughter. “Why didn't I hear about this when I got here this morning?”

Meghan O’Leary shrugged. “They pulled badges, Patrick didn't see any harm done, and they left right after.”

“I don’t like pub fights, Meghan. You should have told me,” he scolded. “This is why I don’t like you working at night. The men who come in here get rowdy.”

“She handled them just fine.”

Livy pointed to Elizabeth’s split lip. “Well, she didn't get away unscathed.”

Meghan laughed. “She almost did. Honestly, Dad, I forgot about it. She whipped his ass. It was funny. The guy was a douchebag. He was being belligerent to just about everyone, including me.”