Redemption is Here (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 9) (66 page)

“I like the cemetery. It’s peaceful, quiet, and pretty. All the statues call to me.”

Redirecting her attention, she focused on the youngest man there, Dustin Sims. “You’re a bit old to be playing altar boy, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I’m an altar
attendant. We don’t use the term ‘boy’ anymore,” he corrected.

“Yeah, all those pesky cases where the priest liked to play with the little kiddies. I can see why.”

Both men beside her saw it beginning. It was going to be a bloodbath. If she was leading in with comments like that, someone was going to be hurting by the end of the interrogation.

Dustin Sims and Father Dowell both looked insulted. She was glad. If she could rattle the cage, angry people slipped up. That was her plan. Look at the last killing. The person doing it was on the edge. It shouldn’t take much to rattle a potential nut free.

After all, she was good at it.

“So, why are you an altar
attendant, Dustin? Most men your age are off in college, chasing women, and getting their beer funnel on.”

He stared at her. “That’s pretty sad. Why would I want to do that, when I can serve God?”

              “Because you’re male and that’s what men tend to do,” she countered, watching his eyes. “Well, real men, anyway.”

The barb hit
its mark.

“If it’s any of your business, I’m taking th
is year to learn about our Lord. Then, I’m going into the seminary. I plan on becoming one of God’s shepherds.”

“Good to know,” she said, focusing on the priest. “You’re pretty laid back, Father. What’s up with that? I went to Catholic school, so I recall the priest and sisters being all up in my face.”

“Shocking,” stated Dustin. “Apparently, they weren’t hard enough on you.”

“Yeah, I’m disrespectful like that. I’m just a powder keg of blasphemy waiting to go off. Know what sets me off, Dustin?”

Ethan braced for it.

“What?”

“Assholes.”

All three men gasped.

“Yeah, I also have a tendency to curse in church. Now, does anyone want to tell me why the good father here is so damn laid back?”

Father Dowell
finally spoke up, “I don’t believe in browbeating people into coming to God. It should be spiritual, calm, and something of the heart.”

“That’s awful sweet of you
. Now, maybe you three can confab and tell me something that I’m dying to know. We have one person trying to learn about God, one who leads people to God, and one who keeps the place purty to impress God. What I don’t know is which of you three killed all these victims in his name.”

That shocked them.

“Yeah, it’s one of you. So, someone better start spilling their guts. This is the epicenter of the killings. All but one victim was here at some point. Walter Dennison was your organist, Allen Payne a faithful parishioner, Emelia Southland taught Sunday school, Jed Proctor was the church treasurer, and then today’s victim, Toni Michelle, was going to be a nun. Does she look familiar?”

Callen flipped over his tablet, showing her driver’s license picture. Immediately, he saw the recognition in two out of the three men’s eyes. The only one who didn't respond was Dustin Sims. It would have been before his time.

“So, who did it?”

Elizabeth hadn’t been one hundred percent sure they’d recognize her, but it was worth a shot, and very telling.

“It wasn’t me,” Dustin declared. “I’m not a killer.”

“Fact,” Elizabeth began, “Charles Manson said the same thing at first, and we all know how that worked out,” she stated.

He looked angry.

“Well, it wasn’t me,” stated Miles Copeland.

“That’s funny since you’re heading up the pack. We found the killer’s hidey hole in the cemetery. It was right in a crypt and in the midst of where you hang out all day long. We also found a tunnel, which led right into the church. You’re looking guilty as sin.”

He floundered for words.

“Who orders all the frankincense?” she asked.

Dustin raised his hands. “I do. It’s one of my jobs to keep the supplies filled, like candles, oils, and holy water.”

“Yeah, guess what he’s anointing his victims with?”

He looked sick.

“Then, there’s you, Father. You’re the obvious choice. You're a priest, preaching sin and wrongdoings. Did you lose control? Take it into your own hands and take the lives of those God let go free?”

He stared open
mouthed. “You must have a pretty low impression of humanity if you can come into a church and accuse a priest.”

She started laughing, and it wasn’t a good laugh either. It w
as the one that was handed out right before she kicked the hell out of someone or went on a verbal bitch slapping.

Ethan and Callen prayed it was the latter.

“As a matter of fact, forgive me Father for I have sinned. It’s been thirty years since my last confession.”

“We should be in a
booth for this,” he warned.

“I’ve killed men who are murders. I’ve stood in the blood and guts of the slaughtered
, feeling nothing. I’ve watched people executed for senseless acts, all in the name of a God who I think lost control of this mess a long time ago. So, yeah, I have a low opinion of people. What’s my biggest regret? That I can’t slap you all in cuffs and parade you in front of this entire town as a bunch of killers. One of you did this, now, who’s going to be the good Christian and spill their guts.”

On cue, Callen pulled up the picture o
f Toni Michelle. They all stared at the twenty feet of bowel all over the floor around her.

Dustin puked, Miles turned his back, and Father Dowell crossed himself.

“What do you want from us?”

She had them right there. “DNA samples. I want to exclude you
as our killer. If I get them, I walk out of here with my mouth shut. If I don’t, I head to the first news station and tell them my suspicions. How long do you think it’ll take the bishop to replace you, Father? Or you, Miles? How about you, Dustin? Maybe they’ll shut this place down. Which works for me, since it may drive the killer out of here.”

Dustin was sick to his stomach. “You’re pure evil.”

She took three steps closer to stand toe to toe with the man. “You shouldn’t throw that word around, Dustin. You haven’t seen evil, but I have. You and your prayers wouldn’t survive one day in our lives.”

“I’ll do it,” stated Father Dowell.

“Me too,” offered Miles. “Just stop, okay?”

Dustin stood his ground. “You can’t make me, so forget it. I know my rights, and I’m not afraid of you.”

She moved back. “Callen, call a tech out here. I want this done right.” Then, she stared at Dustin. “Ethan, run him. I want to know where he was born, what he did as a child, and if his mommy loved him.”

Blackhawk knew they already were. She was going to rattle him to the point he was begging for his mother. “On it.”

The man seemed to waver.

“For your sake, Dustin, you better hope those searches come up clean, or I’m taking you in. Since my other two suspects are cooperating, you’re shit out of luck.”

Again, the men cringed.

“You’re about to see evil, and I hope you get a new definition to that word
, my friend,” she warned the only man who wouldn’t cooperate.

On that, she walked out.

She’d had enough.

Now, Elizabeth needed to regroup.

Hopefully, this little bluff would work. They didn't have anything DNA related, but who knew?

Maybe a nut would fall out of the tree.

There was always hope.

Outside, the men finally caught up. She was leaning against the Navigator, staring at the cemetery.

“What next, Tex?” Blackhawk asked.

She rolled her shoulder. “You’re going to call your agents and tell them we’re having a little pow wow on the Rez at dawn. Then, we’re going to call it a day. I want to start digging through all the data, update my whiteboard, and have a little chitchat with Doctor Magnus and his lady
friend.”

Blackhawk stared down at her. “You realize, that’s the opposite of what Gabe told you to do.”

“Yeah, I’m evil like that.”

There was now no doubt.

The shit was definitely about to hit the fan. If Elizabeth was going to break major FBI rules, it spoke volumes of her mood.

“I hope we don’t all get fired,” Callen stated, glancing over at his brother.

“Yeah, me too. Someone has to pay the mortgage.”

When
they arrived back at the cabin, Elizabeth headed across the land to track down her anthropologist. She was going to have a little talk with Tony. While the men believed she was going to break the rules, she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do. Part of her wanted to spill it, saving his ass, and the rest wanted her to be the good drone.

She was conflicted
.

By the time
she reached the door, she’d made up her mind. Sometimes, there were things far more important in life. If there was shit going down, Elizabeth couldn’t leave Tony in the dark. Who was to say that one day, he wouldn’t be a victim of a stray bullet, meant for the woman he was infatuated with?

Friendship
superseded FBI protocol.

If the US m
arshals wanted to play kiss me, fuck me, so be it.

She refused to let her friend go into this blind.

It just wasn’t happening.

As
Elizabeth reached the door, she knocked. Behind it, she could hear footsteps. When Tony opened it, Jax wasn’t far behind him.

“I need to talk to you alone. Can you go hang out with Ethan and Callen?” she asked
the woman.

Tony tensed at the idea of letting Jaxon out of his sight.

“She’ll be safe with those two. They’re edgy, trigger happy, and not willing to let anyone get hurt,” Elizabeth offered.

Jaxon pulled on her sneakers
before kissing Tony on the lips. “I’ll be okay,” she reassured.

As she walked across the grass, they watched her.

“This isn't going to be a good talk, is it?” Tony asked, warily.

She didn't want to worry him
but in her heart, she knew something bad was coming. When it dealt with the mob, especially the Irish mafia coming out of Boston, it was sketchy at best.

“Probably not, Tony,” she offered.

“Well, come on in then. I’m ready to get my ass handed to me,” he muttered.

Elizabeth didn't say anything.

That made him more than nervous.

It scared him shitless.

                                *     *     *

He crept through the woods. From his location, he could see shadows through the curtains. Good, she was in there. When the chance came, he’d take care of the nosey Fed once and for all. Then, he could carry on with his next victim.

It was God’s will, and he’d make it happen.

He had to admit, the last woman’s judgment had been out of control. Because of it, he had made a vow. With the next one, he’d stick to the plan and take care of business the right way.

Already, h
e’d paid, offering his penance to God. While his body ached, he’d carry on. The act of flagellation was his cross to bear for losing control.

As the bite of the leather licked his skin, burying
itself in his flesh, he prayed and promised to do better. While the wounds were hidden under his clothes, they were still a reminder of his sin. Now, God would forgive him.

Then, he could carry on.

Gently crouching down, he waited.

Soon, it would be time.

                                *     *     *

Once inside, Elizabeth took a seat beside Tony on the couch. Already, his face was full of emotion, and her heart ached for him. Elizabeth loved her family, and Tony was definitely part of that. He filled the role of brother, who tormented, teased, and drove her nuts. It was all done out of love, and she couldn’t help but appreciate him.

They were a team.

“We need to talk about Jaxon Armstrong.”

He would shield her if need be. If Elizabeth was going to say anything to disparage her, Tony knew he’d defend her to the death.
His feelings for Elizabeth Blackhawk wouldn’t matter. The love he felt for his old friend wasn’t as deep as his feelings for Jaxon.

“Can I trust you, Tony
, with a secret so big, it means I could lose my job if it got out?”