Chapter Five #3
“Boss, you want me to do the deed?” he asked.
She nodded.
When he cut through the bolt—or tried to, he wasn’t able to get the leverage. She gave him three minutes before she needed to step in.
Ben might be good at science, but common sense…
Not his thing.
He’d get abducted by a white van full of Goth black kitties. She swore it, too.
“Uriel,” she said, knowing he wasn’t far behind them. “Can you handle that obstacle in the quickest way possible for an irritated, armed investigator who is going to shoot the lock off at any damn second and then have paperwork?”
Oh, that said it all.
He nodded, and headed toward it.
With his big boot, he slammed his foot onto the padlock, breaking it from the door by tearing off the latch. It fell to the floor with a clank.
She shook her head.
“I meant with the bolt cutters and those big arms of yours. You know, muscle?”
He just smiled.
“You should have said that then. I assumed fast was by booting the door. My bad.”
Oh, she was wise to that jackassery. They learned it from her.
“Nice hickey.”
He gasped, and then grinned even more.
Christ.
Everyone was all smiles and happy today. Something had to be in the goddamn water.
Heading in, she saw the terrified CSIs who had been in there taking pictures when Booty McBooterson kicked the door in without warning.
She reassured them.
“It’s okay. He gets excited about doors and rooms. He’s weird like that. Are pictures done so that we can start looking around?”
They both nodded.
Perfect.
“I need copies. Look for the lucifer-looking one outside,” she said. “He’s wearing weird contacts and trying to get on my nerves. You won’t miss him. He’s absurd.”
Mac was curious.
“Uh, you’re allowed to call people names?” he asked. “Where do I get a job?”
She wished, but instead, she explained.
“His middle name is legitimately Lucifer. I know. Hard to believe, but his parents either hated him, or themselves. I have no clue which,” she said, moving toward the shelves.
“I had to make him prove it with a birth certificate and three forms of ID. The things I have to do to work are ridiculous.”
No one said anything else.
Why?
The focus was now the room, and the contents in it.
Oh, they definitely had a cuckoo.
Now that they were inside, she could see no one had exaggerated with the little setup there.
Yeah, they definitely had a collector—of sorts.
“Tony!” she called, and the man peeked his head in from outside the window on the ledge.
“Yes?”
She turned.
“Get your ass in here, nut. If you fall off the ledge, Jaxon will KILL ME. Or her brother will for making his baby sister sad—one of the two. You’re crazy enough that you’re going to parkour yourself to kingdom come.”
He hopped in the window and the room.
“I was taking pictures from the outside. You know, to see how the killer got into the room.”
She shook her head.
“Well, either they had a key to the padlock, or they used the window. There are only two ways in, so I don’t need pictures to tell me that.”
He just laughed.
Both Tora and Mac said nothing, instead, watching how the Feds handled the room.
“Corbin, what do you see?” she asked, as the man moved to stand beside her. “Other than eyeballs.”
Only, he didn’t get to say anything.
Her phone rang.
“Oh, hell’s bells. Hold that thought,” she muttered, and then saw the name on it.
Oh, boy.
Someone was going to be angsty.
Who?
Her son.
Why?
She left him at the house.
“Hey, Koda.”
He didn’t even pretend to be amused.
“Mother, are you forgetting something?” he asked. “You know, your partner who is supposed to be learning from you in the field?”
Oh, Jesus.
“Son, you were having a day off with the wife and baby. I thought you’d prefer to be at home,” she admitted when he was absolutely right.
She had forgotten him.
That might be a first, since she never dropped a ball, but then again, it could be her subconscious trying to keep her son safe, and not near her job.
As she said that, there was a pause.
Then, Koda went there.
“In a haunted house, Mother?”
She snorted.
He was her son.
Her kids RARELY called her mother. It was more or less to either annoy her, or show that they, themselves, were annoyed. He dropped it twice now.
That said it all.
“I’m sorry. I’m on a crime scene. I can’t talk. I shouldn’t have to since I’m the boss, but all of you seem to forget that.”
There was silence.
That told her all she needed to know.
She made Koda feel left out, and she shouldn’t have done that to him.
So, she gave in.
“Your father is heading back home tonight. Then, he’s coming here in the morning. Join him. We won’t be doing much investigating tonight. I don’t have DNA, and I can’t determine male or female without it. So you’re not missing anything but the scene of the crime.”
Since this was a video call, he was staring at her.
“Son?” she asked.
He went there.
“What do we have?”
Corbin actually laughed, and so did Ethan, who was taking in the scene to begin profiling it.
Elizabeth blinked.
“That’s my line.”
Oh, he was aware, but when you were dealing with the mother of all Feds, who didn’t get conned or missed a beat, you had to play dirty.
“Oliver smiled today.”
She gasped.
“Did you get pictures?” she asked.
He went there and did her dirty.
“What do we have?”
Now, Gene laughed because there was a whole lot of reverse Uno going on today, and there was no doubt who taught the kids how to do that.
HER.
“Oh, he learned how to blackmail a Fed pretty damn fast,” he admitted. “That’s impressive. Normally, you need a good year working this job.”
When Koda heard his voice, he went further, really doing her dirty.
“Is that Gene? Let me talk to him,” he said, smiling sweetly at his mother,
Oh, she knew what he was saying.
The wedding cat was still in the bag.
FOR.
NOW.
She stopped that shit then and there.
“If I wasn’t impressed, I’d be hella pissed, son. Trust and believe, your antics will be handled when I’m in less of a situation. I hope that Marine ass of yours can handle a ten-mile run—with me chasing you.”
He laughed.
How could he not?
“You’re not mad. Just tell me what you have.”
She turned her phone, showing him, despite the two detectives staring at her like she was a lunatic for letting one of her children, granted an adult one, see a crime scene.
Clearly, she was.
She was being held hostage by a child. If this got out, it wouldn’t be long before EJ and CJ tried that shit.
Or Charlie.
And her daughter was the most maniacal of the three, so she’d absolutely pull it off.
“Holy shit,” he said. “Do you have skulls with eyeballs sitting in the sockets? Are they mismatched?”
“Yep,” she admitted.
“And you left me at home?”
Elizabeth had to get to work.
“Son, look up collector, and do research on it. Tomorrow, you’re going to tell me allllllllllllll about it.”
He laughed.
Why?
That was her way of telling him that if he wanted in, he’d better bring his ‘A’ game when it came to the research.
“Okay, Momma. I love you. See you tomorrow. Be safe. Don’t let Tony have too much fun.”
The man in question sighed.
“Why does everyone hate me and want me dead?” Tony asked, and was promptly ignored by Elizabeth.
Rightfully so.
“I won’t, baby.”
Then, she hung up.
When Mac opened his mouth, she stopped him.
“It’s a long story. He works for me. He’s more on an internship on how to be a Fed in my division.
Trust me, I wouldn’t bring a kid to work unless I’m held at gunpoint.
I certainly wouldn’t bring my kids to work to give them ideas of the perfect crime.
I know my genetics. Me plus this,” she said, pointing at her husbands, “is the perfect storm. We don’t need them on a podcast in the future discussing serial killers. ”
The men just laughed.
Why?
She wasn’t wrong.
As for the detectives, they said nothing.
Wisely.
Corbin glanced over.
“Want me to continue?” he asked.
She just nodded.
The sooner they got a baseline, the sooner she could figure out if this was to lure her here, or if they just had a nut doing nutter things.
It was a toss-up.
Corbin did just that.
“The eyeballs look as if they aren’t attached but instead are balanced in the sockets. Some look really dried out too.”
Elizabeth said nothing.
Corbin was the new man on the team, and she was trying to teach him all that she knew.
It was exhausting, training people.
She was doing that a lot lately. She wasn’t sure what she was preparing the world for in the future, but there would be an army of people with her brain.
Maybe.
“They are mismatched.”
She knew what that meant.
This situation required more expertise, and eyeballs were an ick, not her jam.
“Christopher!” she called, as he came into the room and whistled the second he saw the scene of this particular crime.
“Holy cuckoo,” he said. “What the hell?” he asked.
Yeah, he could say that again.
“We’re about to do a deep dive on the science here, so we need your help,” she admitted before focusing on the agent. “Corbin, continue.”
The man did.
“The eyes are mismatched. Some aren’t, but a few are. Does that mean something?” he asked. “And some are drying up.”
Chris handled the last part.
“Eyes need to be in a moist environment, thus tears. If they are out of a liquid for too long, they dehydrate. You can always put them back in liquid to make them plump back up again. Like a raisin to a grape,” he offered.
Well, that answered a question that no one in their right mind would be asking.
She glanced over at her profiler. Someone was going to be up to his eyeballs in the crazy for this one.
“EJ?”
Ethan had been taking in the whole scene.
“Yeah, it does mean something. It means he couldn’t decide who to display.
This person, and I say ‘he’, simply because it’s easy to talk about if I don’t have to keep prefacing it, took the victims’ eyes, and those two ‘victims’, who are displayed in that prominent place, were special to him.
He’s displaying—possibly as the newest two. ”