Chapter Fourteen
Saturday
Noon
Hotel
Back at their room, Ethan was hella busy, and he preferred it that way. When he’d gotten back to the hotel, he’d gotten out of his bloody clothes, and tossed them into the trash. Then, he dug through his suitcase and found one of the last few pairs of pants he had.
They were going to have to get supplies.
Because Gene brought clothes, but not work attire, and he had got on the plane with just a small carry on with his things in it.
Blackhawk made a mental note to stop somewhere for gear as soon as Gene was back, and they headed out to do interviews.
As he got down to business, he ran the hell out of the detective helping them.
Then, he ran the hell out of his partner.
Just.
In.
Case.
There was no way the woman wasn’t going to be up their asses as soon as she was aware that Dannie was helping. So, he wanted his bases covered.
Then, he kept digging into people’s lives. On Gene’s laptop, he was running all of the teachers, continuing the search Gene had begun.
Thankfully, technology was advancing, and they could do multiple searches at once.
Who was he focused on now that those searches were ongoing?
Well, mostly, Randal Crest.
He was up next on their interview list as soon as Gene was clear, and back to the hotel.
As he was waiting, he picked up his phone and made a call. He knew he needed to check in with their babysitter.
Not Gabe.
Greyson.
As the phone rang, Greyson answered on the third ring.
“Blackhawk, I swear on everything that is holy, I’m going to lock you two together and to a lamp post in Philly.”
He laughed.
Well, so much for breaking the news to him that they were up to their eyeballs in mess. Clearly, he’d seen it.
“I miss you too. How’s Philly? Is it snowing?” he asked, being obtuse until the man calmed down.
Only, that didn’t work.
Greyson read him the riot act.
What caught Ethan off guard was that it had NOTHING to do with what had just gone down, and everything to do with him running to Damascus.
Oh, boy.
Greyson was about to have a bad day. Why not spread that fun around?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” he asked. “Gene got off the plane, got your text, and went insane. Do you know how difficult it is to contain a bear looking for his boo?”
Oh, he bet.
“I had to sic Alice on him. She was the ONLY one he didn’t threaten to punch in the face. She had to sleep in a chair in front of your living room door. ARMED.”
That amused him.
He’d needed that now. His nerves were frazzled, and he was fighting those demons not to take the blame for all of this. It was an ongoing fight, too.
“Sorry, Grey. I was in a bad place. I’m sorry Gene had to use up our one card with Gabe.”
Oh, he knew what he meant.
“Well, don’t be. It was so enjoyable to catch her off guard. The look on her face was priceless. Today, Gabe told me to pick her up for transport back to DC.”
“And?”
He broke the news.
“She was gone. Antonio and I showed up at her place, and she moved everything out in less than twelve hours. She’s in the wind, and Gabe is PISSED.”
Ethan shook his head.
“Gabe doesn’t know you read her the riot act, huh?”
He was honest.
“No, and he’s not going to. Loose lips sink ships, Blackhawk. I will bitch slap the pretty out of you.”
He snorted.
Greyson had nothing to worry about.
Trust and believe.
“I’m never speaking to Gabe again. I’m tapping out on that one. The further I stay from him the better. I want to throat punch him.”
Yeah, well…
“Join the club. That’s part of working for Gabe. He already told me to handle you and Gene. He wants NOTHING to do with you two menaces. You both did the unthinkable. You broke The Dragon Slayer.”
Ethan snorted.
He knew people like Gabe.
The power players in DC were all the same.
“He’s just going to lay low for now, so we don’t tell the media what dirty deed he pulled off with Daphne Carmichael. That’s all.”
Oh, he was aware.
“How’s tricks? Gabe said you guys caught a case.”
Yeah, about that.
A part of Ethan wished Greyson was watching the news, so he didn’t have to tell him they were boned six ways to Sunday.
Well, here it went anyway.
“We did, and we were just on the news. Someone tried to put bullet holes in Gene.”
There was silence.
Until there wasn’t.
“Jesus. H. Christ, Ethan. Please tell me you’re yanking my chain!”
Oh, he wished he was.
“I’m not. They nearly killed him, so now, I need a HUGE favor.”
Greyson couldn’t wait to hear this.
He was absolutely handcuffing them to a light pole in Philly. It would be the one in the FBI parking lot as soon as their asses were back.
Bet.
On.
It.
“Oh, boy. Can you two not die? I feel like you’re trying to commit suicide or something. You’re on a reservation. What the hell?”
He told him everything about the body dump, how they were dealing with the cops, and the way the media was called out on them. The whole time, Greyson said nothing, but Ethan heard the TV going on in the background.
Oh, someone was about to see it live. There was no doubt the media was flashing that story everywhere.
“Shit, Blackhawk.”
Yeah, tell him about it.
“Are you guys okay?” he asked.
Were they?
Well, barely.
“We’ve been better. This brings us to the favor.
I need you to call Gabe, and I need the local morgue confiscated.
We have techs heading to the shooting scene, but I want to have any more bodies handled here.
Salt Lake City is over an hour away—closer to two.
The nearest FBI office is too far, but the ME is playing dirty games,” he said, telling him all about that.
Greyson was making notes.
Gabe had told him he was responsible for these two, and to deal with their antics.
Since they closed shit, he was happier with that and less upset with the antics.
Blackhawk and Cantrell marched to the beat of their own drummer.
That was for damn sure.
“Holy shit. He dumped and ran?”
Unfortunately.
“Yeah, so we have no forensics, very little on the victims’ autopsies, and we’re behind the eight ball.”
He pointed out one thing.
“Why didn’t you just ask for agents? Gene is on desk duty. You need a partner.”
That hung there.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he said. “You’re not telling me that he’s actively working an FBI case while injured, and ON PAIN MEDS, are you?”
Ethan was honest.
“Nope. I’m not telling you any of that. You came to that conclusion on your own.”
There was silence.
“I have a headache,” Greyson admitted. “A suspiciously Native American one with a side of White dude who knows better.”
Well, at least they were on the same page.
Right?
“About that favor.”
Greyson sighed.
“I’ll get you what you need, but tell the bear to mind his business as in don’t let Gabe hear about this. If he sees that news story…”
Ethan covered for him.
“He was walking a partial fingerprint from the local law to the fax shop to get it to the office in Salt Lake City,” he stated. “That’s the most desk jockeying that anyone can do when on the injured list. It’s not his fault the killer is cuckoo.”
He supposed not.
“I was in the café working, and he was doing secretarial bullshit. Gabe can suck it when it comes to that.”
Uh-huh.
Tell Gabe that.
“I want our own ME. I know that’s trickier, but after he basically told us to fuck off last night, and then this morning, bailed, I don’t have time for this.”
That he understood.
“It’s not going to be easy to pull that off. You know we’re limited with MEs. There’s only so many per office. If the one at Salt Lake City is being used, you’re SOL.”
There was a whole lot of letters being tossed around there.
Only, Ethan knew this was a possibility.
“Hey, as long as it’s not Sasha…”
He laughed.
“Too soon, Blackhawk. Too soon. She’s the reason you and Huggy Bear almost got separated. Keep that in mind.”
Oh, he did.
As far as he was concerned, if she ever crossed his path again, he was taking out the trash.
First, she covered up cop killings. Then, she was a lying sack of shit who nearly destroyed their partnership. Thirdly, she betrayed them.
That was a dangerous area for him.
“It’s at the forefront. Don’t worry about that. If we have to use the city ME, so be it, but I’ve gotta hope and pray you can work your magic from the East Coast.”
Well, he didn’t say he wouldn’t try. He said it might not be easy.
“I’ll see what I can do. How is the rest going other than all of that? What are you up against? I know you have to have an angle by now. I know you, Blackhawk.”
Yeah, he did.
Granted, they were early into it, but he shared what he already knew about the case.
“Three women were found dumped on the reservation that spawned me. If that’s not bad enough, all three were skinned—degloved, if you will. Each one had a calling card. See no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil. The telltale cuckoo calling card.”
“Jesus Christ. Why can’t people just stab someone and move along?” he asked. “Why is the world getting worse?”
He laughed.
That was a good question, now wasn’t it?
“Well, he did that too. I’m convinced it’s a man, just because of the nature of the crimes. We have a collector, but this particular collector doesn’t hold onto his collection. He dumped it.”
Greyson was curious.
“That’s odd, right?”
He agreed.
“Yeah, they lash out when you touch their collection, and that part held true with the shooting. I’m trying to figure out if there will be more, or if maybe his collection was the eyes, the tongue, or the ears, and he didn’t give a shit about the body.”
Greyson listened.
He knew Blackhawk was damn accurate with a profile, and that all the agents in their office loved picking his brain.
Ethan continued.
“Something about the skinning is flashing a big neon sign in warning, and I don’t think I should ignore that. It’s too specific. That has to be significant.”
Greyson would bet money on it if this agent felt that was the case.
“What’s the plan?” he asked.
He shared.