Chapter Twelve #2
Gene took that moment to sneak a kiss to their joined knuckles because he wanted Ethan to know he was in for the long haul.
“I love you,” he offered.
Ethan was well aware.
“I love you too. Just be patient with me, Babe. I’m struggling, but not with you. If it were with you, you’d know it because I would say something.”
He’d thought that, but…
“When you ran…”
Ethan knew.
“And I’m working on fixing that. I might be working on a case, but in the back of my mind, there are things bouncing around.
Just give me time to get adjusted, and I’ll be back.
Just love me as much as you can, and don’t let me go.
I’ll handle the rest. If you don’t let me learn how to be strong, if anything ever happens to you, I won’t survive. ”
That was a very good point.
They had dangerous jobs, and if Javier Hughes got to him, Ethan would be alone. So, he’d be patient and let the man get his bearings.
And he’d catch him if he fell.
Screw people watching.
Gene leaned over and kissed Ethan on the lips. He tasted like maple syrup and fruit.
Just the way he liked him.
When he broke it, he palmed his cheek.
“All I needed was to know we are solid, because I can lose everything BUT you, EJ.”
He felt the same.
For the first time in his life, he had his person, and he was learning how to navigate that. Already, he was getting free of the lure to be here and near Callen.
He was so much stronger than he’d ever been before. This was him coming into his power.
“I won’t ever leave you again,” he said. “Pinkie swear,” he stated, holding up his finger.
It made Gene smile.
“Deal,” he said, locking his pinkie to his. “Then, let’s get this case handled so we can go be pizza-munching degenerates on our own couch.”
That worked for Ethan.
That was what he called a good day in their world.
To help his partner, Gene pulled out his laptop, and he began running people too, as Ethan kept digging into the law enforcement to figure out who had burned them.
“I’ll dig into Randal Crest and Tristan Hevin,” Gene offered. “Then, I’ll get those names of all the teachers at the school. Where do you want to go next?” he asked.
Ethan looked at his watch.
“It’s still early, so the pub for the second victim won’t be open, so let’s wrap the first victim. I’d like to see her home and get a feel for this.”
That worked for him.
Ethan was, after all, running this case. While they both had different methods, they tended to end up in the same place. Gene would be working backward, but Ethan put the puzzle together differently. He was a start at the beginning kind of a guy. Gene was more about the last victim.
As they were running people, Gene started his deep dive on Randal Crest. While the information was popping up, he was sharing it with Ethan.
“The cops were right. He works at a bank, and like we already found out, he’s near the pub and the retail store that our last victim worked at. Do we have Ivey’s address?” Gene asked. “Because the school isn’t near that location.”
Ethan passed him his notes, and Gene checked it out by opening the map function on his laptop.
It didn’t take long to find something.
“Here’s something interesting,” he said, once he saw it.
Then, he turned his laptop and showed Ethan. The drive from the school to Ivey’s home went right down that same street. It was the shortest route to get to her house.
“So, she would have gone right past all of those businesses?” Ethan asked.
He nodded.
“She probably shopped there or hit that bar at some point. People are creatures of habit. They go to familiar places. How many times have we driven past something and then gone there to ‘check it out’?” he asked.
Ethan knew he was right.
“Okay, so we’re getting what looks like ground zero. We just need to lock that down. Serial killers tend to have a hunting ground IF the victims aren’t tied together by something in common.”
Gene was curious.
“Do we know if they knew each other?” he asked. “I was hoping when we showed Robert and Rodney that they’d recognize either of the two women.”
Yeah, him too.
Unfortunately, he was running that too, and not coming up with anything.
He shared what he could.
“They were all from this town originally, and all I found was that they went to the same school. They all went to the high school that Ivey taught at.”
Gene was eating his breakfast.
“Aren’t they different ages?” he asked.
Ethan nodded.
“Yeah, they were. None of them would have been in the same class. Ivey was the oldest, then Phylis, and the youngest was Megan. There were years between them. So that’s not looking like what connected them.”
Gene knew that meant the school was likely not playing a role in this, even if one of the victims was a teacher there. There was only one high school in Damascus, and that was it. So, of course, EVERYONE who grew up here would have attended.
Plus, the other victims weren’t tied to that location with their careers.
“We need more,” Ethan said, passing Gene his waffle so he could finish it.
Oh, and Gene did, simply because he loved waffles, and there was no way he wasn’t sharing food with Ethan.
It was very couple-y, and he loved it.
“I’ll have to do a deep dive on their social media,” Ethan said. “Maybe we’ll find something unusual that ties them together.”
Fingers were crossed.
Gene knew that people put their lives out there a lot of the time, and that would be their best chance of getting to know the women better now that they were dead.
You could only learn so much from the friends and co-workers left behind.
“Good plan.”
Ethan began running the victims, as Gene kept working on the suspects, along with a whole school of teachers.
That’s when Ethan’s phone rang.
It was sitting on the table, and they both looked over to see a number.
It was Timothy’s.
Ethan clued him in.
“Fifty bucks that it’s about Callen. He’ll be worried as to where he is,” he said.
Gene laughed.
“What? No Shaman antics to figure that out?”
Apparently not.
Granted, he was bitchy about his family, but he didn’t want Timothy to worry—specifically about Callen—but he also knew he needed a heads-up about Kaya Cheek on the prowl.
It appeared he was taking the call against his best judgment. How could this go wrong?
“Yes, Granddad?” he asked, answering.
There was a pause, almost like he was surprised that the call was taken.
“My boy, where is Callen? I went to his cabin to drop off his truck, and he wasn’t there.”
Ethan wasn’t shocked.
There was no doubt in his mind that Timothy doted on Callen. He was his golden child.
Well, better him than Ethan. That was a burden he didn’t want to deal with in his life.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I killed him and hid the body, Timothy. Oh, no. Don’t call the cops on me. You realize he’s a grown-ass man, right?” he asked.
The people at the next table looked over, and Gene held up his FBI badge so they saw it.
“He was kidding,” he said.
Only, the man on the phone wasn’t having the sass that morning.
The universe felt off to him, and when he woke up, he had that feeling in the pit of his stomach.
And it wasn’t a good one.
“Har-har, smart ass. That’s not funny, Ethan Jackson Blackhawk. Your lip is not necessary at this time of the day. A simple answer would suffice.”
He rolled his eyes.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me. I can hear them rattling around in that head of yours.”
Gene just shook his head.
Yeah, he wasn’t messing with that.
PASS.
Truthfully, Ethan could feel himself getting angry while talking to the man, so it was best to give him the information so he could abort this call.
“He’s at the hotel in town. I saw him this morning, and he’s sleeping off a bottle of Jack, and some questionable choices. I wanted to keep an eye on him.”
There was a pause.
“What did he do now?” he asked, his voice tired.
Yeah, Ethan knew that feeling. He didn’t mind being his brother’s keeper, but he did mind being his grandfather’s and father’s keeper.
He and Callen were bonded by trauma.
“Well, I went to see him last night, and he was dick deep in Kaya Cheek without a condom. So, you tell me what he did.”
The reply said it all.
There was a slew of profanity from the older Native, and if you knew Timothy, you knew he RARELY cursed.
“I swear to God, I’m going to have to kill him or her. At this point, one of them needs to die because I’m goddamn tired of trying to keep him from knocking up some random woman like his father does!”
Ethan laughed.
“Who knew I’d be the good one by being in a relationship with a man. Guess I’m the good one now.”
Gene didn’t want his man to suffer.
“You’re more than good. I want to clap each time you get naked. That’s spectacular.”
Ethan laughed.
Timothy did not.
That said it all.
Gene’s lip was not needed either, obviously.
“Thank you for saving him from his own choices, once again. I’ll assume you and he had a fight to make him go off the rails.”
Ethan was direct.
“That’s between myself and Callen. Again, grown-ass men, Timothy. If I can get a mortgage and have a gun, I think I can deal with my brother.”
He had a point.
From the tone, Timothy knew that pushing wasn’t a good plan. He only needed to know one last thing.
“Okay, Ethan. Are you coming by here before you leave? Word on the reservation is that you have a case. Is it Native women?”
He was blunt.
Honestly, he wasn’t feeling magnanimous.
“No, I won’t be, and no, it’s not Native related. So far, it’s just a dumping spot for bodies. The killer either wanted them to sink into the bog when it thawed or doesn’t know the reservation well enough.”
That seemed to pacify the Shaman.
And shockingly, Timothy didn’t argue.
“Okay, Ethan. I love you, my boy. Bring your man back another time. We’ll have dinner. I’m sorry we didn’t get to eat together.”
Ethan was prickly because, again, his family made him want to do irrational things.
“Don’t worry about it, Granddad. I can find food on my own. When I can’t, Gene feeds me well,” he reassured.