Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) (48 page)

Before the week was out
, the bull would be the replacement for both the raven and the fox. Seamlessly, he would move into their lives and take over as the beloved heir. No longer would they even be remembered as Blackhawk blood. He would be all that mattered.

Out with the old
Blackhawks and in with the new
. 

He slowly stood
, trying to make no motion to draw attention. He needed to screw with them and make them turn on their own. It was time to put the bull into play.

Losing the bones would be okay, because now he had a new sacrifice.

A very pretty one.

                             *   *   *

Sunday Night

Whitefox believed he had the worst day of his life. He lost a friend, and then had to tell two families that they lost loved ones. The tears and the cries of anguish made his heart ache. He was beginning to wonder if Elizabeth Blackhawk even liked him, or
if she secretly despised him.

Sending him on that assignment had to be punishment.

How could that have been easier than watching an autopsy?  He had to admit, the tech that went with him helped greatly. He was sensitive and caring and let the families cry all over him, and he did a far better job than he did as chief of police. He felt stiff and discombobulated over the entire thing. Notifications weren’t his thing.

When he arrived at FBI West, he was told by the techs in the lab that they were all still on scene. Somethi
ng about that didn’t seem right and instead of waiting there, he headed over to see what was holding them up. They all should have been clear of the scene and had the body returned for the autopsy. When he pulled up he saw the road blocked and the spotlights in the woods. Something bad had to have gone down since he left three hours ago. The entire FBI West seemed to be on duty after dark. There was no doubt in his mind that if they were still here then there was a huge reason. His brother wouldn’t want his tech team or wife out in the dark as sitting ducks.

After being cleared by one of the agents at the tape, he walked past the spot his deputy was found and into the tree line. What waited for him stopped his heart and filled it with
revulsion.

It was like
deja vu.

Here they were standing beside the water, on the bank of dirt with more body bags, all waiting for cargo to be taken off to FBI West. Yeah, his day had been bad, but his brother and sister-in-law’s had been far worse.

On the bank of the river
, there were teams excavating, sifting, and digging through the soft soil. They had ground penetrating radar and everyone was working. In a row were ten body bags. Beside them, his family diligently worked, gently digging remains from the soil to fill them. As he grabbed gloves and a clean suit, he got dressed and pulled back his hair. He had to tell people they lost loved ones, but his family had to sit in the open chasm to unearth them.

There was no doubt that his brother was distracted. Ethan was working beside his wife and trying to watch across the river to keep an eye out for anyone with a rifle in the darkness. Right now
, they were sitting ducks, and he looked concerned. They had constructed barriers, but they were made of material. A bullet would tear right through them and still find its target.

Elizabeth was working on a fetus housed in
the remains of a woman. Her brow was beaded with perspiration, and she was concentrating on not damaging the bones. When his shadow fell across her work, she stared up with all emotion void from her face, but visible in her eyes.

Whitefox knew this was costing her.

“Welcome to the party, Callen. Meet victim number seven, and we’re still only four feet down. Doc Magnus thinks we may have up to ten bodies before the night is over. That’s what the radar says anyway.”

“Holy shit,” he
mumbled, kneeling beside her, and he slowly began brushing the dirt away with the brush the tech handed him.

“Then add in the math of each woman having one fetus. That gives us twenty victims here.”

“Oh God!” That made it even worse.

“I’d ask how your day was, but I’m sure it was just as shitty as ours,” said
Blackhawk, as he worked placing markers and snapping pictures of the adult skeleton.

“Hope you slept well last night
. We may not see sleep until Tuesday at this rate,” she said, as she whistled for a box for the fetus remains. “What do you guys see?” she asked.

Both men looked down at the skeleton laying in the dirt.

“Okay, what don’t you see?”

“No skull.
” Blackhawk saw it immediately. These bones had to be tied to the other ones.

Elizabeth nodded. “Give my
cowboy a prize. Yet another one.” She laid the remains in the box the tech held, as they numbered it seven, placing it on bag number seven. It would now make transport with its mother.

“This is out of control. How long has this maniac been doing this?”

Doctor Magnus walked over when he heard the question. “At least six years, but it could be up to eight years. The bone erosion due to the minerals in the soil isn’t that extensive yet. He’s been working on these burial grounds for a while. This wasn’t an overnight project.”

Both men and Elizabeth looked up at the term burial grounds. They never thought of it that way
. To them it was a dumping site and nothing more.

“What?” asked Magnus.

“You think this could be a burial ground?”

He nodded. “It easily could be,
because it’s on Indian land,” then he paused, “Excuse me gentlemen, Native American land,” he corrected himself.

“Doc, we aren’t entirely PC. I
am married to Elizabeth.”

“Hey!” she gave him a look. “I generally am very PC, when the situation calls for it.” 

“As I was saying, anywhere the Native American buried multiple bodies, they considered it sacred ground. Hallowed ground if you will. If your killer is Native American, then it’s likely he views this as a burial ground of sorts.”

Elizabeth got that creepy
sensation up the back of her neck. “So, right now, in the mind of a killer if he’s watching us,” she looked around before continuing, “we just defiled a sacred burial ground?”

“You could look at it that way, but usually the tribe decides on the location that is consecrated. This is just some man’s craziness.”

“No offense Tony, but that’s worse. This killer isn't mentally all there. He’s half in the bag, if not all the way in the crazy sack, if you know what I mean.”

Blackhawk watched his wife, noticing that her facial expression changed.
“Something just occurred to you.”

“Yeah, but I need to mull it over a bit longer
. I just got that feeling like I’m missing the obvious.” She needed some more time.

“Lyzee, take a break,” Chris Leonard said, handing her a bottle of water
from the edge of the grave. “You look pale. Take a few to sit down.”

“Maybe it’s just my ethereal glow in the cadaver lights,” she quipped back, but took the bottle of water and the offer of a break. She wanted to think for a few minutes and see what popped
into her mind over burial grounds.

Blackhawk looked worried. He wanted to say something
, but his brother gave him a look, the one that said ‘don’t do it’.

Elizabeth took a walk back over to the grassy section where they had found the deputy. She was lost in her thoughts until she heard her name. An agent was standing by the tape
, and there were angry shouts from a few of the tribe standing there. Elizabeth also noticed that her husband’s grandfather was observing her with eyes that missed nothing. He must have been at council and heard the news, rushing right over. He was still wearing a tribal robe and feathers dangled from his ears.

“The FBI need to let us see what is going on
back there! Why the cover up! This is like Pine Ridge,” yelled the young man. He was stirring up the entire crowd, and there were shouts of conspiracy and lynching of the FBI, specifically the Blackhawk traitor.

Hell no! They weren’t going to be discussing her husband and a lynching in the same sentence.  Elizabeth moved closer to speak to Timothy, when she heard the yells of the troublemaker.

“Our blood is on the FBI’s hands!”

She saw the movement too late, as he tossed a bucket of what she hoped wasn’t
real blood at her. It splashed across her body and dripped in sick rivulets down the clean suit that she’d been working in while excavating. A few splashes hit her hands and face and her blood pressure shot through the roof. All she kept thinking was how Gabe warned her to play nice, and she would try… Maybe killing could be deemed playing nice if she didn’t prolong the pain.

Timothy Blackhawk looked appalled that someone from his tribe just assaulted his granddaugh
ter. This was his pregnant granddaughter no less. He was about to make a comment when Elizabeth pointed at the man, angrily.

“Get him,” she hissed to the agent on the tape. She watched him get dragged under the tape and l
ooked to Timothy for permission. After all, this was reservation land, and he was head of the council.

“Granddad, may I teach the boy a lesson?” she asked politely, waiting for his permission. This was the playing nice part. What was to
come wouldn’t follow the rules. It wasn’t lost on her that when she called him ‘granddad’, some of the tribe looked over at him for confirmation.

“You may
, sweetheart,” Timothy answered.

“Where are you taking me,” he shouted. “Cover up! Cover up!”

Elizabeth pushed him against the side of the tech van and cuffed him. After spinning him, ,she grabbed him by the arm. “You want to see a cover up?” she said, loudly enough for the people on the tape to hear. “Okay, let’s take a little walk shall we? I’ll be more than happy to show you what we’re doing back here?”

“You have no jurisdiction here,” he yelled. “Police brutality!”

“I’m not the police, so change that to FBI brutality,” she said, emotionless.

Elizabeth pulled the kid into the clearing. If he was a day over eighteen she’d be surprised. Thinking back, she remembered herself at that age, and how she could argue and still never see that she was wrong. Since he was spouting big words, she was going to scare him into adulthood and fast. As she cleared the tree line, her husband and brother-in-law stood. Both men saw the boy she was dragging into the clearing and looked confused.

“Elizabeth, are you okay?” Blackhawk rushed towards her taking in the clean suit. “Is that blood?”

“I’m not sure,” she whistled. Everyone stopped and looked up. “What is your name,” she
asked the kid.

“Joshua.”

“Everyone, this is Joshua. He just accused us of a cover-up, that we’re hiding evidence and trying to make this like Pine Ridge. I just want you to all stop for one minute, so we can show Joshua exactly what hell we’ve been sitting in for the last four hours. I want my new friend Joshua here to see that we aren’t covering anything up, but uncovering a mess someone left for us.”

Joshua looked at the bones laying in the body bags and he looked sick. “Are those bodies?”

“See the fun, Joshua? See the dead women? Know what I love most about a dig this big Joshua? I love when you pull up the bones that have partial hair and scalp. It makes them look that much more appealing.” Elizabeth dragged him to body number two and pointed. “Don’t you think?” The skull still had some flesh attached; bugs had gnawed on it and left the red hair behind, as a tell-tale sign that she was once alive and vibrant. “Oh look, a redhead. I guess the maggots didn’t care, huh?”

“Jesus,” he mumbled, staring at the horror.

“Know what else I love Joshua? I love when you pick up the skull and there’s still some left over brains in there being snacked on by worms,” she said, pulling him to body six. A tech had gloves ready for her. Once gloved up, Elizabeth picked up the skull and flipped it over to show him. “See that pink-gray goop, Joshua? Have you ever seen brains before, not on a movie screen?”

Elizabeth shook the skull and the squishing and sloshing made such a vile noise even to her, but she kept her composure. This kid needed a reality check and fast.

The boy made a gagging noise.

“Oh no, Joshua. No thank you. There is no puking on my crime scene. You can stand behind the tape and accuse, because you don’t have to look at them dead. I don’t have that luxury, but you want to see the cover up? Here it is. Someone buried ten women
, letting them decay here on reservation land. I can guarantee it wasn’t the damn FBI! The world is going to hell in a hand basket son, and we’re too busy to be hiding bodies, only to be digging them back up,” she added, sarcastically.

“I'm going to puke.”

“No, you are not!” she ordered. “You want to act like a hero and shout at my team and me that we’re out to get Indians? Well then you stand here like a fucking man, and you show me how big your balls are, Joshua. Everyone here has big brass ones, and if you think I’m going to let you insult anyone here on my team then you have another thing coming.”