Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) (15 page)

Ethan wasn’t shocked. He saw the reports on the database, and knew torture was their big thrill.

Callen made notes for Elizabeth’s whiteboard.

“Go on.”

“We have four victims—two are women, and two are men. Now, the most interesting part of this whole thing is that two were killed at the same time, and then two later. I definitely think that your psycho is taking pairs of victims. From the stages of decomp, you can tell that one male and one female were murdered at the same time.”

Elizabeth sipped her coffee. This all seemed to match what Ethan had learned on the federal database. Bonnie and Clyde liked couples. That explained why she and Callen got a note and Ethan wasn’t included. Apparently, they didn't have an issue with threesomes.

Great.

“The blowflies tell the tale. Normally, had the killers left them in the snow, we would have had a harder time. Unfortunately for them, they put them in a dry, relatively warmer building. That gives us our time of death.”

“Which would be?” Ethan asked. He needed to know what kind of time frame they were working with on this one.

“Four days ago for victims one and two, and two days ago for victims three and four.”

“Who do our heads belong to?” Callen asked, glancing up from his tablet.

“Our second set of victims.”

They knew time was of the essence on this one. “Chris, do we have their ID yet?” she asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “I’m not a miracle worker. It’s going to take some time to come up with it.”

It was the best he could do.

Merry held up a plastic bag full of skin. “I’m running prints, but that’s not pulling anything in the databases. DNA is a wash too. Unless you can give us something more to work with, we may need help with this one.”

Elizabeth was confused. “Why did you strip the skin off one of their arms?” she asked.

Chris smiled. “Well, this is the interesting part. While you’re thinking that the killer is going to strike at any moment, we actually may have a window.”

“Explain.”

“The victims are showing signs of dehydration. Their bodies are lacking the normal levels of water, and I’m guessing that not only did he abuse their bodies, but they didn't let them have anything to drink. We’re looking at two to three days.”

She did the math.

“But the last two…”

Ethan got it. “He’s holding them. Somewhere, he’s got a hidey hole, and Bonnie and Clyde are having their fun there.”

She didn't like this.

Torture was damn ugly.

“How about COD?” Callen asked.

Chris and Tony both looked at each other and then laughed. “There are about four hundred cut marks between them. You only gave us a little over twelve hours. If you want that answer now, I’ll have to fly back home for my crystal ball.”

She didn't care how they did it, as long as they figured it out. “If you have to use a Ouija board, I don’t care. I need something. If your theory of torture is right, they’re going to have someone right now.”

He was well aware.

“Elizabeth, I can’t give you anything.”

She didn't buy that. “Spill it. I know you two. Chris, you already have suspected COD, but you’re holding it until you can prove it. Don’t mess with me, Christopher. You know how hormonal I can be.”

At the mention of the word, the entire tech team looked up. It was the deer in headlights look that she loved so much. That one sentence gave it away.

“Oh no,” muttered Merry.

It made her want to laugh.

“Yes, you heard me. I’m pregnant. If you piss me off, you never know what will happen.”

That was like baiting a tiger.

The techs went back to work, but every now and again, one would look up at her.

Elizabeth was amused by their fear.

“Continue, Christopher.”

“They bled out.”

That was so much better. At least they knew what the sickos were doing to end their lives.

“Of course they’re doing that,” Callen stated. “It’s probably the slowest way to kill someone.”

Chris was aware. He’d nearly bled out. It was definite torture.

“Was it from their heads being removed?” she asked, hoping Callen was wrong.

“No, they were dead for that part of the festivities. If there’s a small miracle, there it is. There was very little blood loss from the throat wounds.”

Ethan knew why they cut off the heads at the very end. “Bonnie and Clyde are lopping of their heads as an afterthought. They’d want them alive and screaming for them. Torture is seldom pretty, and they’re making it a nightmare. The decapitation is more for the living. They’d want to make a statement.”

Well, they certainly managed to do that.

“Torture is a sick way to go,” Tony stated. Then he realized what he said. “I didn't mean…”

Ethan patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Tony. I’m fine. I happen to agree with you. When I was being tortured, I wanted to die. Then as I came close to dying, I wanted to live. It’s a battle within yourself. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Elizabeth hopped off the table and crossed to him. She didn't normally offer affection in front of the staff, but they both needed it. She took Ethan’s hand in hers and squeezed it.

Blackhawk wasn’t upset. He’d spent many hours walking through what happened to him. Instead of getting upset, he focused on his wife.

Her icy blue eyes offered him peace. “I’m good.”

Callen knew they needed to press on. “How did they bleed out?” he asked.

“The carotid?” Elizabeth asked.

The men shook their heads.

“Wrist?” she guessed again.

“For the two women, yes. From the tissue on the arm, we can tell that there was still a great deal of blood flow to that wound. That’s how the female victims bled out.”

Elizabeth was still curious. Her ME and anthropologist still appeared to be holding back. For them to risk her wrath, the information had to be pretty graphic.

“And the men?”

They both pointed down.

“Femoral?” Elizabeth asked, hoping they didn't mean what she thought they meant.

Both men shook their heads.

Callen got it first.

“Come on! We had a dick thief already. Surely, there can’t be a group of them out there!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth, and then shook her head. “No, I’m not going there. It’s too easy. I have to let this one go. There’s a special place in Hell for me if I don’t.”

Ethan patted him on the shoulder. The last person with that particular fetish had been wicked.

And not in a good way.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of sick news, but I’m afraid it’s happening again. The men were very much alive through that, and they bled out. It couldn’t have been pretty.”

All the men in the room cringed.

Everyone glanced over at Ethan.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re the profiler in the room. Why do we have a couple of killers collecting penises?” It astounded Elizabeth that this wasn’t the first time in the last four years that she’d said that to him.

Their jobs were crazy.

This was the proof.

Ethan started laughing. “I don’t even have the whole thing outlined in my head. I might need a little time. It’s not like they teach you this in the academy. I have to work through it with the other details.”

She put the pressure on because she knew he could handle it. Ethan had to. They didn't have the luxury of time. The killers were likely working on the next couple already.

“That’s not going to work. I can’t let them hold back, and I can’t let you do it either. Sorry, Ethan, but I need something, and I need it now.”

Callen watched his brother. Elizabeth was putting all her faith in him, and he wasn’t rattled. It was a damn good sign that they were through the storm.

“Okay,” he said, rolling his neck until it cracked. “Let’s start with Bonnie. She’s likely the weaker of the two killers. I hate to be chauvinistic, but most of us know men are the more dominant killer.”

If they were waiting for Elizabeth to comment, it would be a while. She happened to agree. While she’d taken lives, she was more the aberration than the rule.

“Continue.”

“If that’s true, she’s following his orders. Maybe she’s more submissive or the lure to catch the men. I believe that Clyde will be the one leading this.”

“Why?” Callen asked.

Ethan tried to dumb it down. “Women who kill don’t often like to get their hands dirty. They’d poison or maybe shoot a victim. They aren’t going to cut off a penis and wave it around like a badge of honor.”

“Really?”

“Ask Elizabeth,” he said, putting her on the spot. He couldn’t help but grin. Turnabout was fair play.

“If you were killing men, would you lop off their dicks, baby?” he asked.

Callen snorted. “I can’t wait to hear this—like we don’t already sleep with one eye open.”

She pointed at him. “Don’t make me come over there.”

The team snorted.

Elizabeth considered it. “No, I wouldn’t lop of anyone’s penis unless I caught them in bed with another woman. Then all sanity goes out the window. I’d kill her, and then I’d want you to suffer. How do you make a cheating man suffer most? You take away the brain.” She pointed down.

Again, all the men cringed.

“So, we can assume that Bonnie and Clyde want them to suffer for some reason,” Ethan stated, ignoring her pointing at his junk. He’d never cheat, so there was no point worrying about it.

“Maybe these men hurt Bonnie?” Chris asked. “Could that be it?”

“I can’t give you that until you give us an ID,” Ethan stated. “It looks like this is back to your half of the team.”

Elizabeth began pacing as she thought through what Ethan had said. “No, it won’t be that. They’ve moved across the country to find their victims. It’s going to be simple. I’ll bet that Bonnie is the weaker one, and possibly a victim of manipulation or abuse.”

Blackhawk agreed. “I tend to agree.”

“And Clyde?” Callen asked.

He laughed. “Oh, he’s a whole other box of crazy. If he’s making people hurt, chances are that he was hurt as a child. He’s going to bear emotional scars.”

“We all have baggage,” Callen said. “Our life was tough, Ethan, but we didn't start mutilating innocent people for shits and giggles. We liked to steal cars.”

Everyone laughed at his confession.

Elizabeth smacked herself in the forehead. “Don’t give the team ammunition like that! What are you thinking?”

Callen laughed at the look on her face. “The point is, Lyzee, we all have things that cause emotional scars. What pushed this guy over the edge had to be monumental. You know my past, and I didn't turn into a serial killer.”

He had a point.

Ethan pondered it. “I tend to agree. He’s damaged, and he’s torturing people to feel better. All that repressed anger makes him volatile.”

Callen watched his brother. He knew Ethan was holding back. It had to be because of his past. His brother didn't want to go there.

“I can handle it, Ethan. I’m not ashamed of what made me.”

Elizabeth moved toward him and took his hand in hers. She didn't look away from his eyes. They were the windows to his soul, and Callen appeared calm.

“Bro…”

“It’s okay,” he stated. Callen knew everyone was watching him. So, he took matters into his own hands. “When I was a child, I was repeatedly abused by my mother’s boyfriend. It was both sexual and physical.”

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. She was too shocked.

Who was this man?

Did he just tell them all his biggest secret?

If they wanted proof of how far Callen had come the last few weeks, here it was. When his hand went to her midsection, she got it.

This child was healing him.

No one spoke.

Their one saving grace was that all the people in the room were his family and friends. These particular techs were the same ones they worked with all the time, and this was proof he trusted them.

Chris spoke first. “Callen, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It made me who I am. It put me on this path, and it’s a great place to be in life. Now I have a purpose, and it’s to protect people who no longer have a voice. I’m not ashamed of it. If anything, I survived and I’m proud of my strength. I earned every scar.”

Elizabeth’s eyes teared up.

She was so proud of him. “My hero,” she whispered, moving into the frame of his body. Placing her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Go ahead, Ethan. I told you. I’m okay.”

There was no doubt in Ethan’s mind that Callen was telling the truth. Blackhawk never thought this day would come. For so long, Callen ran and hid, but now he was standing his ground.