Redemption is Here (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 9) (2 page)

Her burial.

What kind of hand of God would he be if he killed them and didn't take care of getting rid of the bodies?

A piss poor one, that’s for sure!

This was part of the process for him. He’d take, judge, and then lay them to rest. So, here she was with her chest open and the special jar waiting for her heart. He wanted to leave a message for those who found her years from now. It would be his little clue as to why her life was forfeited.

Yes, he had a flair for drama, but God didn't mind. It was all part of the Lord’s master plan for his creations.

The Angel of Death couldn’t leave a note, because it would disintegrate with time. Yet, a canopic jar would endure! Granted, he stole that little tidbit from the Egyptians, but why mess with something that worked?

Reaching into her chest, there was the sucking sound of flesh and blood
as his hand invaded her body. When he felt the squishy sack, he reached in with the knife to cut it free. Once out of the cavity, he stared at it in his palm.

He was in awe of the Lord’s creation.

This one organ helped keep us alive and was said to be the part of our bodies that held love.

It was just one more of his miracles.

Then, he found it all funny. God knew that this woman
‘loved’
a lot of men.

Now,
her once beating heart was cold and dead in his hand. It was ironic on so many levels. More laughter filled him. Here was a woman, who bedded so many men, and now she was reduced to a cold, dead corpse.

He shook his head sadly.

None of this would have happened if she had just been better in life. While going to church, she should have paid a little more attention to the sermons on wrath and judgment.

Now that she was
being judged, maybe God would take mercy on her, showing her the way.

After all, the Lord was all a
bout forgiveness.

Staring down at her, he saw how that probably wouldn’t happen.
Truth be told, some people weren’t worthy of salvation.

Hadn’t he learned that over the years?

Picking up the jar, he stuffed the organ inside before sealing it shut. Staring at the cavity, he brutally shoved the vessel into her chest.

In the
afterlife, she would need her heart.

Yeah, maybe she could use it to bribe her way into Satan’s favor. Since she was so accustomed to using her womanly wiles to get what she wanted, Satan
just might give her what she deserved.

A long, fire filled eternity.

More laughter came as he prepared the strips. The scent filled his nostrils, giving him peace. It was so familiar and calming that he almost wanted to bathe in it himself. As the aroma filled his senses, he began soaking the strips in the sacred oil. When they were ready, he would wrap her body for burial.

He already had the place picked out.

It was the perfect location.

No one would look there
, and if for some reason they did, he wouldn’t be blamed. After all, there would be too many suspects. Then, he could continue his work.

Correction-
he would continue God’s work.

One must not forget who was running this show.

Once she was in the ground, the final chapter in her story would be written. God could then forgive her, because she died for her sins. There was still a chance that when she met him in the afterlife, he would let her into heaven.

It would all come down to her repenting.

If that happened, then he’d done his job.

The e
vil and impure needed to be saved, and he wouldn’t stop until he took care of it.

He couldn’t.

This calling consumed all of him. If he tried to stop, he’d be miserable. For now, he must carry on and save as many sinners as possible.

Then, he’d get his reward
when he too was buried.

All his deeds in life would ensure his heavenly retreat in
the afterlife.

He was sure of it.

Returning his focus to the woman, he dumped some of the fragrant herbs and liquid into her chest before he began coating her body with them. Next, he would wrap and transport her.

This sinner’s
journey was just beginning.

And he couldn’t wait to send her on her way.

It was another job well done.

             
                  *     *     *

Three Hours Later

In the silence of the night, he continued digging the hole. It was right beside the last three that he’d buried out in the middle of nowhere. For him, this was the plan all along.

This spot was ideal.

It stood just outside the church cemetery, oblivious to the living. This one spot spoke volumes of the people buried there.

See, they weren’t worthy of a proper
plot.

Not yet.

God had yet to forgive them. Maybe when they were discovered and interred somewhere else, they’d be ready for a tombstone and flowers. For now, they were still impure. God would decide when it was time for them to have their moment. If they didn't ask for his forgiveness by now, here they would remain.

As he got down three feet, he hit rock.

Well then, this would have to do.

Dragging her body
, wrapped in plastic sheeting to the hole, he said a prayer before dropping her in. The sick thud of skull hitting rock made him giddy. The sound brought happiness to him in some perverse way.

God would forgive him.

He knew it.

Once more, he had
done a darn good job. Now, he could cover her up and get the hell out of there. The rains were coming, and he didn't want to leave too many tracks in the dirt.

No, he needed to stay invisible.

The Angel of Death couldn’t be effective if he wore a sign giving away his calling, now could he?

God demanded he stay in the shadows, and he was fine with that.
How could he watch those who were to be judged if they knew it was their time? He couldn’t.

Then, they would be good.

No, he needed to remain hidden to be fair. They all had a choice in their destiny. If they made good decisions, they’d live longer.

If they didn't…

Yeah, well, she was a testament to her choices, as were her three companions in the ground.

There was a major lesson here. It was simpl
e enough. You shouldn’t test God, because you won’t like the outcome.

With the last shovel of dirt, he finally finished
the back breaking task. Grabbing all his things, he loaded them back into his truck.

Now, it was time to escape.

Tomorrow was another day, and certainly there would be more sin to find. God would point him in the right direction. Before long, these four would have another friend to keep them company. Since there was an endless amount of land, there could be an endless number of sinners.

It made him giddy.

“Forgive me, Father, for taking joy in my job,” he prayed.

When he heard the whispered words, he smiled satisfactorily.

All was forgiven.

Inside his truck, he stared into the mirror and couldn’t help but
admire his power.

Yeah
, being an angel was tough work. Yet in the end, it was worth it.

Not all of God’s helpers were meant to
spread joy and peace to his followers.

S
omeone had to do the dirty work.

And he didn't mind at all…

                                *     *     *

Two Days Later

Black Mountain Indian Reservation

Getting out of his rental, he crossed the grass to the meeting house. Everything in Callen Whitefox was on edge. Mostly, because this was his first assignment away from the people he loved.

After returning from Salem, Elizabeth, Ethan, and he went back to living. Just a week ago, they found out that their woman was having a girl. The family was about to get another precious daughter added into their midst, and they couldn’t be happier.

Maybe that wasn’t a good enough description for all of their emotions. They were ecstatic!

Now,
Callen was back on the road doing what he did best. As liaison to the Native community, it was his job to mediate. Maybe he was good at it because it was his nature, or it was all due to his ethnicity. It didn't really matter, because either way, this one job was going to be a rough one.

He could already tell.

When Native Americans were forced onto reservations hundreds of years ago, they took it badly. No one wanted their land stolen from them. Instead of what was promised, they were given poor living conditions, disease from the white man, and ultimately their death.

What he was facing down there was very reminiscent of years long ago.

There were more land issues brewing, and it was going to be damn ugly. Already, the Natives were restless, and he’d yet to start the mediation process.

As much as Callen was sympathetic to his people, it was his job to see both sides of the story. In fact, being in love and
‘married’
to an outsider gave him plenty of perspective for his job. His biggest obstacle wouldn’t be the land being
‘poached’
, but the attitude that was sure to follow.

Pissed off Indians were a dangerous lot. Once backed into a corner, they were likely to do something irrational, and he needed to nip that in the bud.

Yeah, it was going to be a long one.

Before entering the building, Callen took a moment to look around, taking in his surroundings.
Black Mountain was a dense reservation. The land was filled with trees, lush backdrop, and plenty of wildlife. The indigenous Natives here loved to hunt, build cabins, and try to have a normal life. From the looks of the space, they took pride in their greenery. The small two hundred square mile thatch of land was their pride.

Now, it was in danger.

While lush and lovely, this was home and prison all at the same time.

It gave them
both pride and anger.

Being from the Rez, he totally got that.

Now they believed that the white man was moving the land borders without them knowing it. It was the ultimate insult. First you trap them, then you make the cage smaller and smaller.

It was adding insult to injury.

Th
is was going to be a big battle, especially since the tribe wasn’t exactly sure who was doing it.

No, that wasn’t true.

They had a suspect.

It just seemed… unlikely.

After doing this job for nearly two years, he’d seen many accusations haphazardly tossed around. Yet, this was one for the record books.

A part of him still couldn’t believe it.

This particular Native land butted a cemetery. Inside the wrought iron gates were the graves of deceased Christians. The Natives were accusing the church of trying to steal what wasn’t theirs.

Honestly, he found it funny.

Ahhhh, once more religion had reared its ugly head. While so many crimes were based on faith and beliefs, his job was often pretty cut and dried.

Oh, not this time.

The heathens and Christians were about to butt heads.

Now, Callen had to calm the Natives, reassure the Christians, and soothe so many tempers. There were times he wished there were two of him. With each case of encroachment, it was getting harder and harder to find a middle ground. Maybe it was because being Native
, he was having a hard time extracting himself from the situation.

After all, he grew up on a Rez.
His perspective was already tainted. Where he was from, poverty was rampant, food was scarce, and honestly, he didn't even see a doctor until he was a preteen. Looking at the empty stares of the Natives, he knew how blessed he was to escape. Yeah, that may have given him a tiny bit of bias.

Hey, he was only human.

Then again, all that changed. Callen had a decent job, a home that a Native could only dream about, and a family who loved him. His long tedious days in old shoes, broken down vehicles, and abject poverty were a million miles away.

This was why he loved his job.