Past Will Haunt (31 page)

He sighed. “Someone give me the probe. I know who I want to stick it in.”

“What would you like to stick in me?” she teased, making him stutter.

“Elizabeth!”

She knocked it off. He was getting red.

“By the temperature of the room and that of her liver, I can say that TOD was about two hours ago, but it’s not going to be accurate,” he said, removing the thermometer from her liver.

“Why?”

Chris pointed at her liver. It was clearly visible. “It’s been out in the open. The room temperature is going to alter it more than it normally would when the organ is inside the body.”

“How much?”

“Twenty or thirty minutes.”

“Rape?”

“Yes, just like the last two and the ones in Boston. He hasn’t changed much, just the heart.”

“I need your team to get pictures of everything. I don’t want them to miss a single thing!” she ordered.

Chris watched her walk out. He was pissed, so he followed. When they cleared the door, he grabbed her arm. “What the hell was that all about?”

She stared down at his fingers on her sleeve. “That was me doing my job, Christopher.”

“You rode me hard, you busted my ass, and you tried to manipulate me.”

She pulled her arm free and faced him. “That’s my damn job, Chris. That’s what I’m supposed to do. When you go out with another agent, do you think they’re going to take it easy on you? Do you think they’re going to care you’re new at this? Me being tough on you will make you stronger. You’ll handle it better. You’ll be able to face anything. In there,” she said, pointing at the crime scene, “you’re my coworker. Out here, you’re my friend. I can’t make it personal while we’re doing the job and neither can you. If you tell me to fuck off when I push, I won’t hold it against you. This is exactly why I didn't want to start something with you. We don’t have normal lives, Chris. We have shitty ones, and they’ll only get worse.”

He felt bad.

She was right.

“What do you think it’s going to be like twenty years from now when the shine is all worn off? When we’ve seen it all? I can’t be anyone I’m not, and I’m good at this. I’ve only ever wanted to be a Fed. Without this, who am I?”

He got it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe you should rethink our friendship, Christopher. If you can’t handle me putting the pressure on, then we can’t even have that.”

He saw the emotion.

Chris felt it too.

As she went to walk away, he didn't let her. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. Instead of fighting, he hugged her. “I got it. You’re scared. I didn't see it at first.”

She didn't fight.

Instead, Elizabeth hugged him back, staying in his arms. There she felt safe, and could tell that this man was a good person. He was her friend, and she trusted him.

“I’m sorry I pushed hard but I can’t walk into a scene and find Livy like that. I had to be tough.”

He looked into her eyes. “I get it now. In there, we have to be the job. I just want you to know that when it’s over, I’m still going to be your friend. I’m here if you need to call me.”

She patted his cheek. “Christopher, get your ass back in there and find me something or I swear to God I’m going to kick it.”

He laughed. “Yes, boss.”

“I hate when you call me boss!” she said, as he walked away. “It pisses me off!”

Then he turned, saluted, and winked.

“That’s worse!”

With that, her young ME grabbed gloves and headed back in to do his job.

Elizabeth didn't doubt he’d be just fine.

Yeah, they’d be fine.

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

One Hour Later

The mayhem was mostly under control. Elizabeth had watched the tech team and Christopher Leonard take the victim out, and she was left to handle the mess.

She could hear the clock ticking in her head, and she needed to focus.

It wasn’t going to be easy. She was relatively new at this, and all the times out in the field, she’d had a partner. Now Elizabeth was doing it alone.

She didn't like it one bit.

Standing in front of the pub, she looked around. There had to be something there. She thought back to when she and Chris were in Boston. As she scanned each building, she looked for the similarities.

There was only one.

Chris had been right.

There was a parking garage down the block. She could see the booth. When she saw the one cop, who had been at the two scenes, she motioned toward him.

“Are you busy?”

“No, ma’am, why?”

“I need to question the person in the booth over there. Will you be my backup?”

“I can do that,” he offered, following her across the street.

“I need you to make sure the media stays back. I need room to do my job.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As they approached, Elizabeth found a man standing against the booth. He was smoking and watching them.

“Hey!”

He smiled. “Yes?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Are you talking about my shift or as in the history of my employment?” he asked, stubbing out the cigarette.

“Both.”

“I got on shift about an hour before you arrived, and I’ve been working here for the last year.”

She made notes.

“Did you see anything suspicious going down across the street?”

He shook his head. “The only thing I saw was when your vans and all the media began showing up. What happened?”

She wasn’t going to give him too much, and then she realized it wouldn’t matter. The news was likely all over this, and they knew she was working the case.

Soon, there’d be a press conference.

God!

She hated them.

“There was a murder inside the pub.”

“Oh, that’s horrible! This is a nice neighborhood,” he offered. “Can I help with something?”

“As a matter of fact, you can. I have some questions. Do you have time to answer them?”

“Yes, Agent…” He glanced down at her badge, “LaRue.”

“Thanks. Who works this booth besides you?”

“There are four of us who rotate shifts. There’s Terry Williams, Tony Bishop, Liam O'Boyle and myself.”

“And you are?”

“Seamus O'Brien.”

“I need to get in contact with the person who owns the garage.”

He laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, lifting a brow in curiosity.

“Well, I can give you the address, but honestly, the man rarely shows up. I’ve been here a while, and there are days that I can’t reach him.”

She patted her gold badge. “I’m persuasive.”

“I bet you are.”

She stared at him. “Address.”

He rattled it off.

Now Elizabeth had to call the one business in Boston when they opened and contact the owner of this parking garage too.

She had a shit pile of legwork, and it was getting bigger.

“Are there any cameras attached to this garage that might point toward the pub?”

He laughed more.

That said it all.

“Who was here last night?” she asked, continuing her questioning.

“I relieved Liam. He was in a hurry to get out of here. He goes to school part-time. He mentioned something about a shower and picking up his books.”

That had her attention.

“What does he study?”

“I don’t know. He’s only been here a few months, and he keeps to himself. I don’t ask anymore, because he tries to get out of here fast.”

“Is it busy here at night?”

He laughed. “No. It’s dead. Most of the time, the person, who is working the booth, can fall asleep after one. All the cars are generally gone by then.”

“Have you ever been to Boston?”

“No, are you asking me for a date?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Thanks for your help. Can I have your address and phone number?”

He grinned. “Call me sometime,” he said, giving it to her.

Elizabeth wanted to poke out his eyes. She hated when men thought she couldn’t be good at her job because she was a woman. The entire time they were talking, he was focused on her breasts, not her face.

What a jackwagon.

Crossing back toward the scene, she knew she had to get busy. There was so much to do, and very little time to do it. It was moments like these that she knew why Feds traveled in packs.

It was just easier.

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

One Hour Later

Elizabeth had a screaming headache. She’d just spent the last hour interviewing Meghan O’Leary’s father. It went just about as well as she thought it would. The man was broken, and he’d likely never recover.

She couldn’t blame him.

There was no way to unsee what he’d stumbled into. In all his wildest dreams, there was no way he ever expected to find his daughter destroyed like that.

Innocence was ruined.

Maybe that was the point.

This killer had a bone of contention with someone, and Elizabeth only hoped they’d find him before he moved on. When Gabe called her back with clarification from the profiler, they’d been right.

He had given them exactly what Christopher Leonard had suspected too. This killer was sending a crystal clear message.

He had his hate on for redheaded women. Someone had broken his heart and ruined his dreams.

Well, at least she had confirmation.

Heading into autopsy, she’d given Chris a ninety minute head start in the process. She knew it wouldn’t be enough, but maybe he’d have found something.

Anything.

She was desperate.

As she walked by the vending machine, she knew they needed to eat. She was pretty sure she was going to be sick after seeing it, and so was Chris, but she had to fuel up.

It was still early in the day, and it was destined to be a long one.

Grabbing two candy bars, she pushed open the doors and headed into her own personal hell.

Once there, it hit her.

“Wait! You’re alone?” she asked, looking around. There wasn’t a tech to be found.

“Yeah, I needed to focus. I’m examining every single slice he made, and it’s easier without the techs moving around.”

“What did you find?”

“I found a boatload of semen, and it was sent to the lab. He got off, and he definitely raped her. I’ve also pulled about a million fibers and sent them to the techs to begin processing.”

“Did he leave the coin?”

“Yes,” he said, pointing at the table beside him. “It was wedged up in there.”

She didn't need him to explain where ‘there’ was. She got it. Staring at the jar, she thought about it.

She needed a break from it all. She also needed a partner to join her.

“Do you have a few minutes, Christopher?”

He looked up from the victim. “Uh, to do what?”

“Have sex, Chris,” she said sarcastically.

He laughed. “Pick a morgue table. It’s lady’s choice today in the morgue.”

Elizabeth’s tension abated. He was joking, and that always helped lighten the load. “I brought you lunch.”

“I don’t know if I can eat while I…”

He watched her open her candy bar.

“I’ll eat yours then too. I want to puke, but I have to get fuel in. Who knows when I’ll be able to eat real food again.”

Chris heard the strain in her voice. She wasn’t just hungry. Elizabeth needed a friend. So, he did what he promised. He pulled off his gloves and headed her way.

“Table for two?” he asked, motioning toward a morgue table. “I swear it’s sanitized.”

Screw it.

She needed a break, and normally it would be Livy who helped lighten the load.

Elizabeth hopped up and handed him a candy bar.

“My favorite.”