Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) (27 page)

Now
, his blood just ran cold at the mere thought that she was out in the field after they had a fight. He had a flashback of their fight in Salem, again his fault. He pulled out his phone to start to dial hers, when a strange number showed up on his display.

“Blackhawk,
” he answered, gruffly.

“Ethan my boy,” said his grandfather. “I tried to call you at your office and your wife also, but I wasn’t getting any luck. Are you free to come by this evening with your lovely wife? I have a list for you from the tribal council of the women we know have left the reservation. There’s also a list you requested of the individuals practicing shamanism.”

He wasn’t really sure where his wife even was at that point to comply with his grandfather’s request. “I think we’re free, Granddad. I’ll try my best to get there with Elizabeth, but we are a little busy right now. Dead women and all…”

“I’ll see you both for dinner at six thirty, Ethan.”

It was non-negotiable. Ethan Blackhawk had just been summoned to his grandfather’s again like a child, much like he ordered his wife to his office.

Karma was a bitch
. Now he was convinced.

“Okay
Granddad, we’ll be there,” and he ended the call before he got trapped into anything else against his will. He was desperate to find his wife. This time he dialed her number and hoped she’d at least answer.

Elizabeth met Callen Whitefox downstairs in the garage
. He was leaning against his truck, waiting for her.

“I don’t see tears or blood.”

“Yeah, I don’t kill everyone I fight with,” she said, holding the tech kit and continuing, “and sometimes a fight isn’t worth the tears.”

“What do we need to take care of now
?” he asked, taking the kit from her hands.

“I need prints from Wyler, and then I want to head to Black Falls to talk to the sheriff.” Elizabeth said
, walking to her Jeep. 

“I’ll drive
, Lyzee. No offense but on the Rez, people tend to get spooked when the FBI rolls up in their fancy cars. If you arrive with me, it’ll still be spotty, but I won’t let them start with you,” he said grinning and dropping on his sunglasses.

“Great, more people starting with me today. If they all knew I was pregnant and ready to kill maybe they’d back way off.”

Whitefox laughed. “Did Ethan lose it?”

“Oh yeah, he seriously did.
It was a complete and total loss of his mental facilities.”

“Well, I think I should go on the record for him, since he’s not here. Let me point out that he’s on edge right now
, because this killer is focusing on pregnant women, and he’s relating it to you. If he didn’t love you like he does, he’d be calm and cool.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I didn’t fight with him; I love him too much to do battle when I know he’s losing it. Coming home was hard for him, and I’ve taken all th
at mess into account too.”

“He’ll get his footing. The Ethan I grew up with always landed on his feet, and when he ha
d to be was logical, controlled, and calm he pulled it off. Give him time to work it out.”

“
I am but sometimes he just needs a reality check when it comes to us. I don’t have any doubt that he’ll work it out. I have complete faith in my husband.”

Whitefox pulled onto the reservation road, stopping next to one of his deputies. Elizabeth figured she’d get some work done, and called ahead to the sheriff’s office. There was no point driving over there if they wouldn’t talk to her. The sheriff seemed like a man to hold a grudge, especially against the woman that embarrassed him on the crime scene.

Whitefox opened his window.  “How’s it been?”

Chester Briggs nodded at his boss
and the woman with him. He wasn’t giving her a second thought. She was an outsider and not one of them. “It was quiet last night, but today word travelled that there were multiple bodies pulled off the land.”

“Chaos?”

“Oh yeah, they’re about to lynch any outsider that they get their hands on,” he said, motioning to Elizabeth with his head subtly. Hoping his boss got the message that if he had any fondness for the woman to keep an eye on her.

“I need you to start compiling a list of anyone women that left the reservation in the last year. Whether they went to school, ran away, got married to an outsider or anything.”

“Were they Natives?” he asked, angrily.

“Some,” he answered. “They weren’t the only ones killed, Chet
, and we have to work both sides of this, the Rez and then the outside world.”

Elizabeth hung up the phone. The
sheriff wasn’t available today. It was funny, she didn’t think he was that busy of a man. She did get to speak to a Deputy Mason, and she asked him if he could run the reports for them for pick up tomorrow. He seemed more than pleasant, and she couldn’t help but be grateful that someone wasn’t in a snit today and willing to help out. Getting the sheriff’s department to help would cut down on some man hours that they were burning on the simple searches.

When she hung up the phone, she just patiently sat and watched the interaction between Whitefox and the man. Sometimes it was best she didn’t say anything, she just let her brother-in-law handle it. After all,
Elizabeth knew when she was out of her element. The reservation, or Rez, as he called it was a whole new world. Just because her husband was part Native, people there weren’t going to play nice with her. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t play nice either. It was best to just sit and observe.

“I’m looking for Wyler have you seen him?”

“No, he may be out on one of his hunting trips. I’d check out at his house or the bar. After that who knows, and your guess is as good as anyone else’s.”

“Thanks Chet. Call me if anything happens. I’m escorting the FBI all day today until
Ethan is free.”

The man nodded and ignored the woman.

Elizabeth Blackhawk could tell there was no love lost there.

As they pulled away
, he looked over at her. “Far be it for me to tell you what to do, but I need you to abide by a big rule while you're here on the reservation.”

Elizabeth almost laughed until she realized he was dead serious. “Okay, what Callen?”

“Don’t go anywhere alone. Right now, the Natives, so to speak, are restless and sometimes mob mentality prevails. I don’t want to see you get hurt or anyone else in a stupid incident.”

“Okay,” she said waiting.

“That’s it? You're not going to protest?” he asked, pulling up to his father’s house.

“Nope, this place is foreign to me and if you think it
’s best that I don’t wander on it alone, I’ll listen.”

Whitefox smiled. “That was easy.”

Just then her cell phone rang. “It’s Ethan,” she said, deciding to not punish him and answer it.

“Director Blackhawk,” she said calmly, nothing showing in her voice.

“Elizabeth, where are you?” Blackhawk was sure he sounded hysterical, or damn near close to it at that point.

“Ethan, I told you that we had things to do today. I’m sitting outside your father’s house about to get his prints. I was planning on heading to Black Falls, but the sheriff isn’t available to see me. One of his deputies is running the missing persons reports for us. We can pick
them up tomorrow at our convenience.”

The silence was deafening.

“Are you alone?” he questioned, as he held his fear in check. Blackhawk knew he had to stop treating her like she was a wounded child and trust her ability as an agent. Elizabeth had after all, fought her brother hand to hand, wounded and still won. Elizabeth could take care of herself- he hoped. 

“No, I’m with Callen.”

Whitefox lifted a brow, wondering how that sentence alone was going to work with Ethan and his anger. He hoped it wasn’t a catalyst to the colossal explosion of anger now directed at him.

“Please stick with him okay? What’s your game plan after you visit Wyler?”

Elizabeth was expecting an explosion and realized the rational man had returned and was back in control for the moment. Or at least he was trying to be in control on the phone.

“I’ll head back to base. I want to push the techs a little harder and see what they can dig up.”

“Can I talk to my brother for a minute?” He wanted to make sure his wife was safe and protected. There were only two people on the reservation that he trusted- his grandfather or brother.

“Sure,” she
replied and handed Whitefox the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Yeah, Ethan?”
He didn’t know what to expect.

“Please keep her safe
and don’t leave her side. I’ll wait here for you both. Don’t let Wyler get too close to her. I don’t want him near my family.”

“She’s safe
, Ethan. I won’t let anything happen to her. Don’t forget that she’s my family now too, I’ll protect her and the baby.”

“Thank you,” he said, then ended the call.

Elizabeth opened the truck door, sliding the phone into her pocket. “He didn’t yell did he?”

“No, he’s meeting you back at your office.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Well, this is your show, Callen. I’m just here for the prints and to make sure we keep chain of evidence completely clean. I’ll follow and you lead.”

Callen nodded, and started down the drive to his father’s tiny cabin. It had been quite a few months since he’d been here. The last time wasn’t a social call, he had brought his drunken father home after a bar brawl. Come to think of it
, all his visits here involved violence, drunken behavior, and general mayhem. He couldn’t think of one single happy visit. It just was another disappointment in a long line of wasted moments with the man he just couldn’t call dad.  Knocking on the door, he stepped back fully expecting a drunken Wyler to stumble to the door. When it opened he had to admit, it was surprising. 

“What can I do for you Callen?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the woman beside his son.

“Wyler, we’re here because the FBI needs your finger prints. You touched that card on my porch and it’s part of the investigation, and now we need to exclude you for the record.”

The man stepped back into his house, holding the door open. “Okay, both of you please come on in and make yourse
lves comfortable.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she expected, but the house was sparse
and orderly. She knew the men had issues with their father. Ethan and Callen had been abandoned early in their lives, and the resentment was still fresh like a new wound. Some damage just never healed, unless there was time.

The minute she saw Wyler Blackhawk, it
squeezed her heart. He was an older version of her husband. It was the same black hair and the dark eyes. Ethan’s were dark blue, like a raven’s wings and his father’s eyes were pure black. Same skin tone and same build. Deep down, she wished her husband could have a better relationship with the man that stood before her. Even when she wanted to say something, she kept her mouth shut, just silently observing the man that had created her husband.

So, this is what Ethan Blackhawk would look like in twenty years. Her husband was destined to always be handsome.

“Are you my son’s wife?” he asked, as he led them to his little kitchen table. He probably shouldn’t have asked, but he was curious. The woman that stood in his kitchen was taller than
all of the women on the reservation, and she wore scuffed up cowboy boots, a gun on her hip and no emotion on her face. The rumors were right, Mrs. Ethan Blackhawk was gorgeous, and she had an underlying sense of toughness. He wasn’t surprised that this was the woman his son had chosen as a wife. His boy was a handsome man, and she suited him, or what he remembered of his boy. Then again it’d been a long time.

“Yes
, I’m Ethan’s wife. I’m Elizabeth.” She held out her hand to shake his out of courtesy for the man, and the job she had to take care of while there. “I need to take your prints now, Mr. Blackhawk.”

He nodded and sat
. “Would you both like a drink?” he offered hospitably.

“We’re working, we can’t be drinking,” added Whitefox bitterly.

“I meant coffee or tea, Callen. Nothing more,” he answered, simply.

Elizabe
th noticed the older man flinch at the implication and harshness. “No thank you, sir, but thank you for the offer.” Whitefox had warned her not to stir up the Natives, but he seemed to be doing just that himself. There was no doubt her role was going to be peace keeper.

“I gave up alcohol, Callen. I’ve been sober for eight days now.”

Elizabeth dropped the kit on the table and pulled out the little electronic reader that would scan his finger prints, and the ink blotter for the backup copy.

Whitefox just nodded
and remembered seeing his father go ‘sober’ before, and it never ended well. It always ended with a big binge where someone got into a fight, and almost beat the hell out of him. Something in him didn’t want to admit he feared the next time and the idea the old man might get himself killed. It would break his grandfather’s heart.