The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1)) (47 page)

He cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Hey, Cowboy, how’d you sleep?” Elizabeth asked, walking towards him, snagging his coffee and giving him a big kiss.

“Really good, how about you?”
Blackhawk took the mug willingly, and noticed she had the paper on the table waiting for him. It was all so very wifely.

“
I slept like a rock.” Elizabeth flipped a pancake and caught it on a plate. “Now that’s kitchen skills, Cowboy,” she winked at him. 

“Are you going to do this daily?”
Blackhawk grinned like an idiot, and he didn’t even care. Marrying her was the best thing ever.

She looked confused. “Do what? Wake up?”

“Make me breakfast every morning.”

Elizabeth smiled and thought about it. “Well, probably not. Once we start having kids, you can
be in charge of the breakfast duties. I have to give birth to them; you should have to feed them.”

The words made his heart skip a beat. “Deal,”
Ethan sat at the table and drank his coffee. “Are you ready to head back?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah, I need to wrap this up. I want to move on with my life and my husband.”
Elizabeth put the breakfast down in front of him and kissed him on the top of the head. “I have two things I need to do today before we leave. How much time do I have?”

He looked at the clock on the wall. “You have roughly two hours before we take off. Do you need my help?”

She smiled at his willingness to do the mundane with her. “I have one errand I need to take care of first, and then I want to swing by the cemetery and place flowers on my dad’s grave.”

“Give me thirty minutes to shower and shave
. I’ll be ready.”

She nodded. “I’ll run my errand and be back by then,” she said, smiling at him mischievously.

“Are you going to get into trouble, Elizabeth?” he asked, laughing at his wife.

“Who me?” she said innocentl
y, as she waited for just the perfect timing of him starting to eat. “By the way, I’m taking the car, honey.”

Just the sight of him dropping
his fork, and almost choking on breakfast entertained her.

“What?”

She grinned. “On the back of the marriage license in fine print, you obviously missed the property clause. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is mine.”

He swallowed, visualizing her
driving from the other night. “How about I drive you, baby?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “What’s wrong? Don’t trust the woman you married?” Now she was just messing with him.

Oh hell. This was a minefield.

“Drive safe,” he muttered, shoving a pancake in his mouth.

It was her small little pleasure to watch Ethan Blackhawk all riled up.

Marriage was awesome.

Elizabeth stepped out of the car, still smiling
. She could have easily walked, but she wanted to torment her husband a little bit before they headed back. Fair was fair. After all, Ethan Blackhawk always played by the rules. It was very entertaining how he watched her in a panic from the doorway of the brownstone, as she rubbed her hands together and stared with anticipation at his sleek car. He looked downright scared, as she hopped in, revved the engine, and tore out of his parking spot. The wave from the sunroof nearly did him in.

Elizabeth
could still see in her mind, the look on his face.

This marriage thing was
pretty damn terrific.

For now she needed to focus on her mission. As she walked into the bakery, she needed to take care of one little task.

Elizabeth
placed her credit card on the counter. “Is it possible to have a red velvet cupcake delivered every day for a year to an elderly woman down the block? She has no family, and I want her to have a special moment every day.”

The woman smiled
and nodded answering her, “We can take care of it. Want a message?”

Elizabeth smiled, “Nope, just make sure she gets it. I also need four more today to go.” She scribbled the address down on paper and paid, then took the cupcakes and headed for the florist. It was a quick errand, and she headed home. It was funny to think of it as home, when she felt the same about Salem.

At some point they needed to discuss it, and she hoped it didn’t put a wedge between them.

Blackhawk heard the engine of the car, and swore he wasn’t going to look. He needed to trust his wife and believe that the woman wouldn’t do anything to wreck what was now their car.

Was his attachment to the car silly? Yes, but when he was a boy growing up, there was only one car that he ever wanted in his entire life. He had made a promise to himself, that if he ever became successful,
it was going to be his first major purchase. It gave him hope and a dream in an otherwise desolate life. When he made it a reality, he had been incredibly proud of himself. So, the Mustang was a symbol of what he overcame in his life, more so than anything else.

It was a big deal to let her just take it, but then he remembered that she loved him, and
wouldn’t do anything to wreck it. When she left like a bat out of hell, the tires squealing, yes fear filled him. But then was replaced with such love for his raven haired hellion.

Blackhawk
didn’t worry long. The worry was replaced with complete contentment as he found a note sitting on the bathroom counter. It just showed how well she knew him. Just leaving him a note to reassure him meant so much. It reconfirmed the woman he married would always try and keep him safe.

~Cowboy,

Take your shower and shave. I promise I’ll bring your

mistress back in one piece. Now she’s my responsibility now too.

Don’t worry.
I love you

~The Sheriff

After finding her little note he smiled and tucked it away in his safe. It was
saved with the first note she ever left him, and he wanted to cherish it forever.

Blackhawk didn’t hear the engine anymore, and h
e wondered why it was taking her so long to get into the house. Curiosity won out, and he peeked out the window in time to see her bent over from the passenger seat removing her packages. He loved watching her, especially when she wasn’t aware he was there. Jeans were his favorite thing in the world since meeting her. Staring at her as she bent over was just a purely masculine response. He couldn’t help it. Yeah, he couldn’t wait to meet her at the door. Then he heard her knocking and curiosity definitely got to him. 

“Hi Kay,” she said, kissing the elderly woman’s cheek, after she opened her door. “I have cupcakes for you,” she handed the woman the box. “Today it’s your favorite- red velvet.”

“Oh, you remembered. You are the sweetest girl. I hope that man marries you and soon. If
he doesn’t, I happen to have a grandson your age, and he’s available since his divorce. He’s a nice lawyer, works for the government.”

Blackhawk opened the door
quickly. “Hey now! She’s a married woman, so no trying to set her up with eligible bachelors. Lyzee is officially off the market.”

“You got married?” she looked at them both full of happiness.

Elizabeth laughed. “We did last night.” She held out her hand, showing her the ring. “Ethan, asked, and I said yes.”

“I am so happy for you both!”

“Not as happy as I am.” Blackhawk exited their brownstone to kiss his wife.

“But you eloped? Here I thought I’d have a wedding to go to,” she said kissing him. “Good boy,” she whispered in his ear. “I told you she wouldn’t say no.”

“Yes, ma’am, you did.”

“Don’t worry about the wedding part
. The best part of the shindig is the cake, and I took care of that already.” Elizabeth loved how they both looked confused. She winked at her husband. “It was errand number one, Ethan.” 

“I
’m so happy, and when that horrible girl comes around that you were dating, I will be sure to tell her you got married. She’ll be back when she realizes what she lost!”

“Oh boy,” said Blackhawk, knowing where this was heading.

“Oh, Mrs. Feinstein, I’m going to leave you my number. You call me if she comes around, and I will gladly speak to her,” said Elizabeth. “Did I say speak? What I meant to say is kick her frigid scarecrow ass out into the street and beat the hell out of her bare fisted until she cries for her mommy.” When the older woman laughed she continued, “There are days I’m glad I have a gun,” she smiled, patting her husband on the cheek.

“You don’t get your gun back until the
plane lands,” he said, laughing. There was no doubt she’d do it.

“Will you two be back?” asked Mrs. Feinstein, hopefully.

Blackhawk looked at his wife. “We’re not sure, but you’ll be the first to know, once we work this all out.”

“Now go enjoy your cupcakes,” said Elizabeth, taking her husband’s hand and leading him back into their house. “We have one more stop to make.”

When he closed the door, Blackhawk smiled at his wife. “What did you do?”

“We just had a cupcake delivered every day for her, for the next year.”

He just looked at her, amazed that she even cared enough about a stranger to do something like that, and he remembered why he fell in love all over again. “Why?”

Elizabeth
began packing her suitcase, and paused looking up at him. “She told me about your last fight with the flight attendant, and the hurtful things she said about and to you. I know about all the names too and comments. How she treated you was very unkind.”

He didn’t realize she knew all the details, and yeah, that was a vicious fight that he wouldn’t ever forget. “Shouldn’t I get the cupcakes then?” he asked, trying to make light of it, even though it hurt him deep down still. The ex knew his weaknesses and used
it against him to do the most damage whenever she wanted to get her own way.

“She was going to come out and kick her ass for you, and that tells me that Mrs. Feinstein is a good person.”

“I think she could take her,” he laughed.

“Oh I know it, or at least hold her down for me.”

They sat comfortably on the jet, both reading the files that he had printed out before leaving the house. He had worried that Elizabeth would collapse at the cemetery, but on the contrary, she stood tall and was tough. The sheriff was back and in control. Blackhawk watched her place the flowers on the ground in front of the tombstone. She kissed them both and stepped back, saying something that he couldn’t hear. She turned and walked back to him, no tears this time, just steely resolve. Now she was sitting, boots up on the seat as she faced him, her complete focus on the papers. She had that look on her face, and he knew she found something.

“What did you see?” he leaned forward.

“Let me borrow your tablet,” she searched the web, and went even deeper into the information. She scanned the information, looking up at him. “I’m convinced this is somehow connected to the Salem Witch trial in sixteen ninety two.”

“My team did searches, they can’t connect it.”

Elizabeth wasn’t listening to him. She scanned both lists, first the list that held the victims’ names, and then the list of all the people killed as witches, in Salem 1692. “That little tickle that tells me I’m missing something is bothering me,” she said, absently.

He watched her
as she sat there in her scuffed cowboy boots, her belt buckle and badge, and he couldn’t help but grin. They were complete opposites, and they must look crazy together. He was lost in his staring when she looked up, icy blue eyes full of sparkle.

“So, if I find the connection, do I
immediately get my gun back?” She sat back, arms behind her head. “Willing to break the rules if I can give you what your crack team couldn’t?”

The cocky grin said it all, she saw something his techs missed. “Show me, and I’ll go from there.”

Elizabeth handed him the tablet, and he saw the list of women and men accused of witchcraft back in 1692, and then he was handed the list of the victims in Salem.

“Exclude Corrine Gilbride, she was in the wrong place at the
wrong time, and discount my dad.” Elizabeth waited for him to find it. 

Blackhawk stared at the list, wondering if it could be that simple. Each victim had a name that matched someone accused and tried in 1692.
The killer picked his victims all because of the names. He checked each one, and it was too big of a coincidence to not be accurate. He reached into his laptop bag and pulled out her gun and holster.

“Come to
momma,” Elizabeth crooned, taking it and clipping it onto her belt. “Now I don’t feel naked anymore,” she grinned.