Chapter Four #3
“I hope that you stay in my son’s life for the longest time,” he stated, even though he knew what was coming. “I hope your paths always stay connected.”
Gene stood too.
“You said I marry him. Wouldn’t that mean they do?” he asked.
Oh, it was going to be a wild ride for this man filled with grief, loss, and pain. Timothy suspected he would withstand it just fine.
Gene Cantrell was strong of mind and soul.
Timothy nodded.
“Yes. He desperately needs to feel attached to someone, and when you propose, he will never doubt that it will happen. It will give him so much peace to have that reassurance.”
Gene wanted that.
He wanted that connection.
“Oh, and get him that pet cat.”
Gene stared at him for one reason, and only one reason. That was a joke between them, and they were going to find a cat as soon as they’d gotten back from Puerto Rico, until this all went sideways.
The look said it all, and that amused Timothy.
Well, everyone should be amused. Not only was he going to break his ‘no marrying a white woman’ rule later for Ethan and Callen, but he was going to drop the woman part of that for Gene.
“Do you think I don’t know of your plans?” Timothy asked. “Because I do. Cats. Philadelphia. Pina Coladas.”
Oh, Jesus.
That made him want to cross himself or take the rosary out that he was wearing.
With good reason, too.
“You’re spooky,” Gene stated.
Timothy roared in laughter and genuinely smiled at the man.
“That was nothing, Son. Join me in the tipi, and I’ll really freak you out.”
Yeah, no.
Pass.
Gene didn’t want to know what was coming. It was like ruining a good book. He liked to take the journey and make it up as he went.
“Thank you for your help,” Gene said.
Timothy stopped him before he could leave. Heading to a cabinet, he pulled a bottle of medicine down, poured three into his hand, and then brought them to Gene.
“Your arm hurts. Take these. You were given medicine. Take it,” he stated.
Oh, that did one thing.
Gene hesitated because he had been given painkillers, and also aspirin from Elizabeth LaRue.
Only, Gene was honest.
“I can’t numb the pain. I have to help Ethan. I get loopy from it.”
Timothy reassured him.
“It’s plain old acetaminophen.”
Oh, well, thank God.
He took them, and tossed them back, trusting the older man not to lie. Gene knew what was coming, and it was going to be a wild storm.
Someone had to save Ethan.
That someone was him.
“Go save my son. He’s running, literally. Stand in the road, and you’ll see him coming to you. He’s out running from the demons that chase him as he waits for salvation.”
Gene didn’t know if he could save him, but he’d try anything.
“I will let you know about dinner, the time,” Timothy said. “See you then and tell my son it is NON-NEGOTIABLE.”
He laughed.
“Oh, like that will sway him. Nice try, but, again, Ethan doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.”
Yeah, Timothy was aware.
Only, he knew he’d do this.
As the man headed out, he watched him leave, and he prayed that everything that had been woven into time and the smoke would hold up.
It was a crapshoot with Ethan and Callen. The two of them were their own worst enemies, unraveling everything at the seams with ridiculous choices.
For all of their sakes, this had better hold.
This meddling would do one thing.
Save them all.
* * * Blackhawk & Cantrell * * *
The Damascus
Police Station
Same Time
Oh, this was a mess, and they knew it. Both Detectives Pezzimente and Balo were up to their ears in shit.
And it kept on coming.
After talking to their boss, and explaining what they’d found, they’d headed to the station to talk to the man.
Oh, and he wasn’t happy.
Three victims, all tied together in a pretty little ribbon in the form of Polaroids on a mirror?
That screamed serial killer, and they were NOT equipped to deal with that.
So, already, they’d been given the bad news. Once the bodies showed up, they were calling in help.
And that annoyed the two cops.
So.
Damn.
Much.
“I don’t want to hand it over,” Leah admitted. “We solve everything thrown at us. Why not try?”
Oh, Dannie knew.
Their boss was a stickler for rules.
To be the homicide captain and to run the missing persons division, you had to be. He was juggling the two biggest departments and needed to keep those balls in the air.
Letting his cops drop them was going to be a bad thing in the end for their boss.
And he knew it.
“I get it, but the boss has spoken. Once we get those bodies, they are getting handed over. I’m sure he’s already got the FBI office on speed dial.”
Still, she didn’t have to like it.
And wouldn’t.
“Well, they haven’t handed it over yet. Maybe we should dig in. You know, we might not find the bodies. If not, that gives us time.”
He was aware.
“We can do that. The CSIs are running the house as a crime scene. Want to head out and start doing some interviews? The woman’s neighbors might be home, and the husband might be back from his attempt to find her.”
She nodded.
That sounded like the best idea so far. She was itching to dig into this, now that they knew more about the women who’d gone missing.
If they could find that one connecting factor, this might just work to their advantage.
She.
Had.
Hope.
In cases like this one, that was all you really had when it was a long shot.
They needed those bodies, or this killer was likely getting away.
“Let’s go. I want to be in control of this for as long as we can. The FBI doesn’t have the best interests of this town in its intentions.”
Well, that was normal.
That wasn’t their job.
They could only police so much of the country.
“Let’s see what we can find, and go from there,” Dannie offered. “Who needs forensics anyway?” he joked.
Oh, but the truth was the truth.
They’d need everything they could get to figure this out.
Forensics included.