Pledging to Die (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 11) (55 page)

Callen joined him. “Sit! You touched a victim, and it doesn’t matter that you don’t like where this is going. You should have known better.”

The man sat and closed his mouth.

“We need alibis.”

Ethan rattled off the official times of death, waiting for the man to give them anything. When he was able to account for four out of five, they knew they needed to let him go.

“Thank you,” Ethan said, yawning.

The man yawned, and then stood. “So, I can go?”

They nodded.

Roddy made a beeline for the door.

When he was gone, Callen glanced over. “Are you tired? Do you need a nap?” he teased. “You’re getting old if Elizabeth could wear you down with some shower sex.”

Ethan put away his tablet before laughing. “That was me doing a subtle test.”

Callen didn't get it.

“I was checking to see if he was a psychopath.”

His brother had to be kidding. “Seriously. Yawning is a test for that?”

He nodded. “It doesn’t always work. Some psychopaths are so attune and intelligent, that they’ve managed to make sure they can fake it.”

“They have to fake a yawn? What? They never get tired?” he stated incredulously.

“No, they do, but normally, a person who sees another person yawn will do it too.”

“Really?”

Ethan focused on his brother, imbuing some of his knowledge to Callen. He knew the man wanted desperately to be able to do what he and Elizabeth did on a daily basis. This was a training of sort.

“Yes. There are tests to see if someone is a psychopath. Most of the time, they’re charming and have high IQs.”

“Okay,” Callen said, fascinated with the conversation.

“When you discussed his father, there was emotion. You could see it in his eyes. He lost them both, and despite the man being a drunk bastard, he still loved him.”

“Psychopaths don’t love?” Callen asked.

“Not really. They lie a lot and fake emotions. They don’t have that ability to connect inside them.”

“Okay.”

“A psychopath is always secure when he, or she, takes a risk. They don’t fear it. They do what they think needs to be done, and don’t worry about the outcome or danger.”

“So they kill because there’s no fear?”

“Exactly. When his mother killed his father, he could empathize. He also felt shame knowing that he was from that type of environment and here we were blaming him for murder. You could see in his face that he was questioning himself.”

Callen scribbled down some notes. He loved when his brother would let him into his head to get all the good stuff. This was an awesome way to learn.

“Normally, a psychopath will have meaningless sex. He doesn’t form an attachment to anyone. He’ll lie to them, tell them what they want to hear, but in the end, they don’t make that connection.”

“So, the frat boys?” Callen asked.

“More than likely they’re just idiots. To find a true psychopath is a rarity. Those five are horny college boys who screwed up. Although, Nels Lucas showed a few of these traits, and if he didn't have an alibi, I’d be looking right at him for this.”

Callen scribbled more.

“A psychopath likes drama. He’s going to want to be in the thick of it at all times. They might threaten to take their lives, but they never will. It’s all about getting attention. They need to be in the spotlight. They also lack that one ability to have empathy. That’s why the yawning thing is huge.”

“This is fascinating,” Callen admitted. “How did you learn all of this?”

Blackhawk pulled on his suit jacket. “I studied in school, and when I got into the FBI, I fell into a few cases early on. I had to learn on the fly, much like you are right now.”

Callen closed up his tablet. “Thank you for being patient,” he stated.

“It’s my pleasure. I want you to be aware in case you’re ever out in the field alone.”

“I hope that never happens. I like working with my partners.”

Ethan did too. “Let’s go grab a coffee and see if there are any loose ends that need to be tied up here.”

“Great. I have some questions.”

“Shoot,” Ethan said. “Pick my brain.”

“You’re going to wish you never offered that,” Callen teased.

“Yeah, probably.”

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

When she arrived to clean his place, something didn't feel right. While her boss would leave the house and forget to set the alarm, he never forgot to lock the front door.

That, in combination with his car sitting in the driveway, made her suspicious.

Maybe he called off from work today.

After all, he was having a bad week.

The university had ended up in the paper, and her boss liked his privacy. He didn't like people running his beloved school through the ringer.

It pissed him off.

There was no doubt that he’d be miserable all day today, and if he was staying home, her shift was going to be shitty.

Heading in, she called to him, hoping that he’d maybe just got a late start. What she really wanted was for him to rush toward the door and head out. Then she could put on her music and get down to work.

While she liked her boss, he gave her the creeps. He was always watching her like she was some tasty morsel he couldn’t wait to get his hands on.

But, alas, the money was good.

When she dropped her things in the kitchen, she pulled on her apron and decided to face the music. If he was home, Mallory knew she should just face him down.

Thankfully, she wore pants today, and he wouldn’t be lecherously checking out her legs.

There was one small miracle.

“Sir?” she called, heading toward his office. If he was staying home, that was likely the place he’d be.

When she entered the room, she looked around, trying to find him.

He wasn’t there.

In fact, his briefcase and jacket were haphazardly thrown over the one leather reading chair. She clucked disapprovingly as she picked up the expensive wool coat.

He must really be having a horrible day.

The boss would never leave his things lying around like this.

Heading toward the closet, she opened the door. When she hung up his coat, she noticed something odd.

There was a hole in the one side just above the pocket. It looked like he got snagged on something like a screw or nail.

Well, that was unlike him.

He was never this careless with his things. In fact, when she disrespected his property, he’d go into one hell of a rage.

Pulling it back out of the closet, she dropped it over her arm. She’d have to ask him if he wanted it sent out to be repaired, or tossed in the trash.

When she headed for the family room, there was a weird odor.

She’d never detected it in the house before.

It was almost like a sewer backing up.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste as she made a mental note to call the plumber to come to the house to fix it. If her boss got a whiff of that smell, he’d lose it.

No, he’d go insane.

Yeah, she didn't want to deal with that. Instead, she’d simply handle it to take some of the pressure off his shoulders.

Entering the room, it was dark as the curtains and blinds were closed. The smell was overpowering in there. Heading to the windows, she pulled the ornate drapes open to let in some light.

“It smells like shit in here!” she muttered.

Then she turned.

Her eyes immediately went to the figure hanging off the ground, his neck wrapped with a white, blood stained rope.

It was her boss.

And he’d soiled himself.

Now she knew why everything felt off.

With that, she dropped the coat, screamed bloody murder, and raced out of the house to find the gardener.

Her boss was dead!

Oh God!

He was dead!

Chapter Eighteen

Monday Mid-Morning

The ride to the deputy’s house was a pleasant one. As they headed down the tree lined streets, they also took a stroll down memory lane. Nick Rakin had, at one point, been a close friend. As Elizabeth dated his brother, the family had assumed that she was going to marry him and join their cop ranks.

She pondered it, yes, but it was never what her heart really wanted. The entire time she dated Dakota, she felt like the FBI was the only life she needed.

Wanted.

And now she knew why.

Ethan Blackhawk waited at the end of the trail and had she deviated from her gut, they never would have met.

She was very glad she’d gone with her instinct.

He and Callen were her biggest rewards, along with a house full of little ones. Had she accepted Dak’s proposal, there was no question that her life would have been vastly different.

By now, she would have certainly had a divorce under her belt. While she had once cared about him, there were no greater loves in her life than Ethan and Callen.

Well…other than her children.

So many people questioned her ability to love two men equally.

Could it be done?

Was it wrong?

Did the soul only have one mate?

In her case, she found that the men were perfect. They each fulfilled something so vital in any relationship. Callen was her humor and sensitive one. He would be more likely to write her sonnets and sing her love songs.

Ethan was the strong silent type, filled with undying devotion and with a heart of pure gold.

Together, the men were perfect for her.

She needed them both.

There was no doubt in her mind that without them, she couldn’t go on. Tough had its limits. She’d pushed out the world to heal, and each one gave her something back as they wiggled into her heart.

“You're lost in thought,” Sheriff Rakin said, glancing over as she drove. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m just mulling over this case.”

“Does it have you at a loss?” he asked, cleaning off his sunglasses on his shirt.

“I’m getting frustrated, but we’re not out of it yet. When people do shit like this, it only makes me angry. I’ll find this killer, and if it’s your deputy, I’m going to boot his ass to the chair, and yours for not knowing your own man is neck deep in shit!”

He laughed. “I guess I was wrong. You’re only different around the men in your life. You’re the same woman.”

Oh, he was so very wrong. She did change, and a lot.

Only he didn't see the real her.

This Elizabeth Blackhawk was the outer shell. On the inside, she was softer, had a life she loved, and even a family to call her own.

She was so much different than years ago.

“Yeah, I’m the same old Elizabeth.”

Nick pointed at a house. “He lives there.”

Pulling off the road, she parked her Escalade. “I’ll do the questioning, and you’re job is to let me know if you think he’s a lying sack of shit.”

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am!”

As they headed up the walk, Elizabeth pulled her side arm and held it pointed at the ground.

“Are you insane?” Nick asked. “He’s a deputy.”

She pointed silently at the front door. It was open a crack. “You want to stroll on in there whistling like an idiot, have at it. I have four babies to go home to. They kinda like their momma, and I’m not wearing Kevlar to keep me bulletproof.”

He glanced over at the door. “Well shit!”

Yeah, he could say that again.

“I’ll take low, and you take high. We go in, secure it, and then find your deputy.”

Nick didn't argue.

Instead, he watched her back as they approached the door.

Before stepping inside, she scanned their surroundings by peeking into the window. That’s when she saw the booted foot on the floor in front of the couch.

“There’s someone down.”

Nick’s heart began pounding. As they headed in, he expected a bloodbath. Splitting off, they cleared the space before heading in to check on the body.

When Elizabeth got to the prone victim, she noticed there was no blood.

He was also snoring.

If that wasn’t a big enough give away, the place reeked of booze.

It looked like someone was sleeping off one hell of a bender.

“It’s clear,” Nick said, still holding his weapon.

“Well, he’s not dead. Your deputy is out cold. I think he met up with his friends Jack and Jim.” She pointed toward the bottles of whiskey.

With the toe of his boot, Nick poked Deputy Reason. When he didn't move, he bent down and shook him.

“Whaa?” the man asked, opening his bloodshot eyes. “Where am I?”

Elizabeth shook her head. She didn't understand the whole ‘get shit face drunk’ thing to chase away your sorrows. Booze only made more problems.

“We’re here to talk to you about Harli,” stated Nick, practically shouting.

“I have a headache. I can’t think right now,” he muttered before trying to roll over on the carpet to slip back into sleep.

“Up on the couch,” stated Elizabeth, grabbing the man under one arm as Nick did the same.

“We have to interview you,” the sheriff stated.

“Was she your girlfriend?” Elizabeth asked.

He shook his head. “No. We just hooked up. We used to get it on. Want to get it on?”

She’d rather be jumped by a porcupine. “No thank you.”

“I hooked up with her and some other ladies, but I really liked her,” he slurred.

Elizabeth didn't find that odd. He was young, and that was normal for
‘boys’
his age. “How did you meet her?” Elizabeth asked, hoping he wouldn’t pass out before they got their questions answered. If he did, she was screwed.

“At the frat.”

She knew the story, but it was hearsay. She needed it right from the horse’s mouth. “Care to elaborate?” she asked, sitting beside him. It was a risk, but she’d take her chances. It was a sad day when she was so desperate for a lead that she’d risk getting puked on for confirmation.

“I used to hang in the frat. Beta Phi Ti are my brothers.”

She stared at her old friend. “He should have been eliminated from working on this case,” she said. They just dug a legal hole on this one.

Nick shrugged. “It’s not like we saw that woman’s death coming. How the hell was I supposed to know?”

The frustration came through for both of them.

“I played the game. I played the game,” he muttered.

She stared at him.

“Did you go into the basement?” she asked, patting him on the cheek when his head lolled back.

“Yes. I went to heaven. They went to heaven. That’s where I met poor Harli and Lori.”

Somehow, she wasn’t quite sure they were only talking about the name of their sex room.

“You knew Page Pinel?” she asked.

He nodded.

“How did you know her, son?” asked Nick.

“I had sex with her. We had dinner and drinks,” he muttered.

Elizabeth needed to know. “Were you the one seeing Page Pinel the night she was killed?”

He nodded. “I killed her,” he whispered.

“What?” they both said at the same time.

Elizabeth knew they were screwed if he’d just confessed to a murder. They didn't Mirandize him, and he was incapacitated. This wouldn’t stand up in traffic court, let alone for homicide.

“How did you kill her?” asked Nick. “Come on, John. How did you kill her?”

The man passed out.

“Well shit!” Nick muttered. “Now what?”

Elizabeth couldn’t let him out of her sight. If he sobered up and had been the killer, he could make a run for it. “We take him back to the station, tell no one why he’s there, and put him in a tank to sober up. When he does, we’ll interview him again.”

“He didn't kill her. Despite what he said, I don’t believe that he did it.”

“Nick, if he was with two of the victims, and he was at the frat, he’s the best suspect.”

The man sighed.

“We need his DNA. We’ll swab him there.”

“Elizabeth, that’s not legal. He didn't give us consent. You have to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

She laughed. “Okay. We’ll do it this way. When he starts puking, and he will, I want it. My tech team will check it. Puke has stomach cells in it. They’ll run that.”

He stared at her. “Are you serious?”

“I’m going to make my team wade through a bucket of vomit. You don’t get any more serious than that. Let’s get him out of here.”

Nick did as she asked, but he couldn’t help but think how this woman was out for blood.

And he wasn’t sure he liked the new Elizabeth nearly as much.

She was ruthless.

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

Johanna was sitting in her hospital bed working on her laptop when the call came in. Ethan Blackhawk wanted her to run the entire frat house, going back at least five years.

For some reason, he was zoned in on it, and he wanted to know about everyone who once lived there, played the sick game, and headed out after graduation.

The frat house had to be the center of it.

So, Johanna wasn’t going to say no.

As she worked, she heard Brody stir beside her. When she glanced over, his eyes were open, and he was watching her. That simple look made her heart skip in her chest.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

She leaned over to kiss him. “How do you feel?”

He stretched, and then grimaced. “Like a truck ran me over, and it was carrying explosives that are now still going off in my head.”

She laughed. “Yeah, my headache just went away. Give it some time, and you’ll feel better.”

He moved closer. “What are you doing?” he asked, pointing at the laptop.

“The bosses needed a research monkey, and I’m it. I’m running each and every frat boy who lived in that house over the last five years.”

“That sounds like fun.”

She went back to work, but noticed that Brody was squirming in his bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m stiff. I could use a shower.”

She moved the laptop aside and climbed out of her bed. “I’ll help you.”

He stared at her like she was crazy. “What?”

“Um, Brody, I’ve seen you naked. Trust me…there’s nothing new here that I haven’t seen before. I won’t be scared,” Johanna teased.

“Yeah, I wasn’t worried about that. What concerns me is that the second I’m naked, part of me may think about other things, and I’m in no shape to even go there.”

She laughed. “I’ll stay outside the curtain to help keep your cast dry. If I don’t help you, it’s going to be some random nurse. Won’t that be embarrassing?”

“Here’s a little news flash, Joey. Other women near me while I’m naked isn't a problem. You near me is. They don’t even grab my attention. I only have eyes for you.”

That was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

“I promise I won’t jump you.”

He snorted. “I never thought I’d say this, but okay.”

When she helped him out of bed, Johanna threw his arm over her shoulders to take some of his weight. “We better hurry or
‘The Wicked Nurse of the West’
will be in here trying to accuse me of molestation.”

He laughed, and it hurt like a bitch. “Can you help me shave?” he asked. “It’s my right arm.”

Johanna would do anything for him. He was her hero. “I think I can do that,” she offered, “but maybe you should be in bed for that. You’re wobbly.”

“Joey, I love you,” he said, his eyes filling with so much emotion. “I’ll never love anyone but you.”

She touched his cheek before offering him a soft kiss. “I feel the same, Brody. Now, let’s get you showered.”

She helped strip him of his hospital gown.

“Your father brought you some toiletries.”

Brody was glad. “I’ll have to remember to thank him.” He nearly choked on those words.

“In you go,” she said, turning on the hot water.

Then she did what she swore she’d do.

Johanna Madden began taking care of the man she loved. The man she would spend forever with.

Because her heart knew the truth.

He was definitely the one.