Page 25 of Chaos has a Name (An FBI Romance/Thriller #66)

Immediately, Rayna stopped her. She felt weird being called Chief or Chief of Police when Elizabeth had offered up her own name.

“You can use my name. It’s weird when people call me chief. Especially, white people. It seems…I don’t know…racist.”

Oh, she let that go, but it took all she had.

There was no doubt that this woman wouldn’t accept her easily. Well, she’d do the work to make that happen.

Only, now, her only concern was her husbands. They were definitely caught off guard by something.

Now, she needed to figure out what that would be.

“Understood, Rayna. We’ll get our things together, and we’ll meet you out in the parking lot. We have to load up our gear. Can you meet us there and give us a few to get set up?”

She nodded and stood.

“Thanks for helping me, and making this non-problematic.”

Oh, well, that was her middle name.

Okay, it wasn’t, but she was trying to be on her best behavior.

She had ninety-nine problems, and all of them were related to a specific Native.

Wyler.

Elizabeth stood, and as the woman headed back out to the main area, she had to know why they now looked tense. The woman hadn’t said anything but folded clothes.

Some killers were just cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. It happened in her world, and folded clothes were pretty mild too.

“Okay, what gives? You heard that last part and got twitchy.”

Ethan wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Uh, this might be weird,” he began.

Well, weird was kind of her thing. In fact, in her life, weirdness made the world go around. That’s how they all found each other.

“What?” she asked.

Callen kept his voice low and took over for his brother.

“When we were growing up, Timothy told us a story about the Solstice, and some of the weird things that happened during it. It was kind of a boogeyman tale, meant to keep two Native boys from doing crazy shit on that night—or so we thought.”

She lifted a brow.

“Uh, okay. What kind of shit are we talking about?”

Ethan shared.

“He specifically told us to behave because every year, on the Solstice, someone disappeared from the reservation without a trace. The only thing ever found of them was their neatly folded clothes on a stone near the thick forest.”

She blinked.

Huh?

Were they serious?

“Wait. What?”

Callen nodded.

“Yeah, they poofed out of here, and no one ever saw them again. Timothy told us to never be out on that night, raising hell, or one day, we’d go missing and would be an offering.”

Now, she was thinking they were pulling her leg. They had to be. That was all kinds of bizarre to her. Most likely because that seemed to be condoning murder.

“An offering for what?”

They both looked at each other.

Then, Callen shared what he knew.

“They were an offering to the Wendigo. It was to have the Wendigo protect the lands, and not feast on all of the decent Natives here. Timothy said it happened every single year.”

Now, she was freaked out.

“Uh, yesterday evening was the solstice, guys,” she stated.

Oh, they both knew that.

“And she found folded clothes. Why didn’t she suspect that if this was some legend around the reservation?” she asked.

Callen knew.

It wasn’t that difficult to explain.

“The older generations believed it. You know, like Wyler and Timothy. We only heard about it because the Shaman…he believed. We honestly thought it was to calm us down because we ran wild.”

Well, holy shit.

If it looked like a Wendigo, and it hunted like a Wendigo, it was likely a legend that she’d have to go head-on at to find the truth.

Because Wendigos didn’t exist.

Then, something even more horrific hit her.

If this is every single year since Timothy was young…

They knew.

That would mean there were more than a hundred bodies buried on the reservation.

Well, shit.

Yeah, this was exactly what she expected when coming back to Damascus.

Ridiculous nonsense.

And it had just been dumped on her doorstep—and her unfenced in property smack-ass dab in the middle of the reservation.

How could this go wrong?

They were about to find out.

* * * The Blackhawk Family * * *

The Reservation

Noon

Timothy Blackhawk’s Cabin

The Rez McMansion

After wandering in the woods, listening to the ancestors talk to him, Wyler knew that he eventually had to get back.

Why?

He could only hide for so long before Elizabeth sent out a bunch of Marines, or his sons, to find and drag him back home.

She was predictable, if nothing.

And honestly, he expected it.

After talking to his father in his peyote dream, he knew that he needed to face them down.

Was he going to change his mind?

No.

But he had to at least own it and stop running. That wasn’t fair to them, and he had been selfish. This pulled them from safety, and the last thing he wanted was his grandchildren in danger.

The mere idea that Bethe, or Willa were hurt…

That broke his heart.

So, it was about facing the music.

As he walked through the trees, they felt…off. The energy on the reservation was slightly weird feeling like he wasn’t alone out there.

He knew how crazy that was because energy was energy, but this was strange.

It seemed to make the hair on his arms stand up, and he didn’t know why. Wyler would say he felt like he was being watched, but he knew he wasn’t.

He had hunted these woods for all of his life, and he knew what lived there.

Deer.

Elk.

Bears.

Nothing could hurt him here.

Right?

Oh, well…

Maybe it was just his imagination. That paranoia had to come from the stolen peyote he’d partaken in not that long ago.

As he reached the tree line, he couldn’t hear his grandkids screaming any longer. They had to have gone inside to chill out during the warmest part of the day.

Reaching the opening, he saw Marines everywhere. They were patrolling, and he knew if he got caught by one of them, they were going to drag him to wherever Elizabeth was, and the shit would hit the fan.

That was the last thing he wanted to happen.

And while knowing he needed to face it, he was not thrilled about it.

So he would stall.

That would mean outmaneuvering the men, and getting inside to his little ones.

Approaching the tree, he crept slowly, not being heard. When he saw the front door wasn’t an option, he knew he could get to the upper window of the renovated cabin by scaling the tree within the treehouse, and accessing that way.

Thank God the ladder was blocked by the tree. It was likely the Marines wouldn’t be any wiser.

While they were good, he was a Native, and he could move silently.

As he moved toward it, and slowly climbed, he managed to avoid Marines as they continued moving about on patrol.

Michael and Demeter were in the yard, making passes around the home.

Benning wasn’t far away either.

Wyler had just barely made it up the tree without them seeing him.

That had been close.

Moving to the one branch that nearly kissed the side of the cabin, he reached for the window, and lo and behold, it was locked.

Shit.

Who locked the window?

It was so high up that no one could break in. Then, it hit him.

Security would lock it and put alarms on it to make sure CJ and EJ didn’t make a break for it.

Well, sneaking in that way was officially over.

Heading back to the ladder, so he could climb down, and hopefully find a different way in, he reached for it, and it was gone.

As in no longer there.

What?

The?

Hell?

Where did the freaking ladder go?

It had literally just been there. Was he losing his mind from the peyote haze?

When he looked around, that’s when he heard someone clear their throat.

“Looking for something?” Michael asked, leaning against the part of the treehouse that was all tree.

His voice breaking the silence actually made Wyler jump.

Well, shit.

Saint Michael of the Elizabethan patrol had spotted him, and the jig was about to be up.

“Jesus, Michael. Wear a goddamn bell,” he said, exasperated.

Only, the man didn’t laugh.

“You realize that the whole family has been worried, and you’ve created a mess, right?” he asked.

Wyler said nothing.

Why?

Because he was well aware.

“Elizabeth is worried sick over you.”

For that, he felt bad.

“I’m a grown-ass man. I think I can make up my mind and come back to MY HOME when I want to, Michael. The kids need a babysitter—not me.”

Oh, he could make up his own mind, but this was a game of chase, and that made EVERYONE twitchy.

He was going to be heading out shortly, leaving for Scotland, and the last thing he wanted was to leave the family in a lurch.

Unfortunately for Michael, the heat was on here, and he wasn’t able to go out to help the family. The media was dogging him, and he couldn’t deal with the truth.

He’d been betrayed.

AGAIN.

“Yeah, you can, but you could have talked to your children first. This was shitty behavior, Wyler. When someone hurts one of the Blackhawks, that makes us angsty.”

He lifted a brow.

“I’m the oldest Blackhawk here.”

That was the point.

“And yet, you’re acting like a child. I’m sorry that you’re sick again, and the thought of losing you is a gut punch, but you could have done this in a different way. Your wife has been crying, your daughter-in-law has been stressed…”

He stopped him.

“My daughter. She’s not my in-law. She’s mine.”

Oh, well, then he needed to have a ‘come to Jesus talk’ about that.

Because that made it even worse.

“Then you shouldn’t have pulled all of this. You missed Oliver’s birth, and that hurt Takoda, Coraline, and your children.”

Wyler stood his ground.

“I’d like to get down,” he said, changing the subject. “So, can I have the ladder back?”

That was when Michael laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

Oh, and it wasn’t lost on Wyler that it wasn’t the kind of laugh that meant he was amused.

Not.

At.

All.

“Oh, well, I seem to have misplaced the ladder. It looks like you’re stuck up here until they get home. I hope you’re enjoying the nature,” he said, tapping the tree.

Wyler’s eyes went huge.

Was?

He?

Insane?

“Are you telling me that you don’t plan on letting me down from the treehouse?”

That was exactly what he was telling him. This was actually far kinder than what Elizabeth had told them to do. They could have tied him to a chair for hours.

At least now, he had some freedom.

SOME.

Michael whistled.

Elizabeth wanted him locked down, and she was getting him locked down. Demeter had taken the ladder, and he was standing under the tree.

Someone wasn’t leaving this treehouse until he was sprung by a Blackhawk.

The female one.

Security had its orders, and there was no way they were dropping the ball. Also, the last thing they needed was a runaway Native, playing reindeer games unprotected in the forests.

That wasn’t something fun.

For any of them.

“Nope. Welcome to prison,” he said. “You’re on lockdown until your children get home.”

This was ridiculous.

Was he kidding him?

Who the hell locked a person in a treehouse?

Who?

Oh, yeah.

His daughter because she was likely incredibly pissed off at him.

Well, take a number.

Wyler was pretty pissed off about all of this too. The whole thing made him want to rage.

“Come on, Michael.”

Yeah, no.

Michael didn’t relent.

He was sticking to his guns. When you watched the Blackhawks, you fell in love with them. Each and every Marine would die for this family.

Why?

They were their family too.

Again, this was the lesser of the two options. Wyler had gotten lucky that Michael was the one who saw him in the trees watching them and looking for a way back into the house.

Demeter was all about protecting Elizabeth at all costs, and he had very little impulse control.

“You’re loved so much that your family picked up its roots, and came back to a place that Elizabeth and your sons can’t stand. She offered to leave her job to come find you and nurse you back to health.”

At his words, tears filled his eyes.

“I don’t have it in me to keep fighting, Michael. I’m tired.”

He moved toward him.

“That you think you’re the only one who doesn’t have it in himself, and won’t even keep fighting says one thing about you, Wyler. You’re a quitter. When are you going to stop quitting on your family and man up? We’re all tired of fighting. That fight is what makes this life.”

He stared in shock.

That stung.

But it was the truth.

“Have a seat. I hope you don’t have to take a leak. If you do, you’ll have to avoid pissing on Demeter. We’ve been told to sit on you and then tie you to a chair. Had he caught you, he’s very literal.”

Wyler gasped.

“He’s crazy like that,” Michael said, touching his com. “Ivan, the bird is in the cage. Notify the Raven that he’s back, and contained in the treehouse. There’s two of us on him. He’s not going ANYWHERE.”

He turned his com up so Wyler could hear it through the speaker on his vest.

“Thank God. Elizabeth is a mess, and she’s not focused. She’s going out to start working on a case. The Chief of Police showed up with a missing person, a pit of bones, and neatly folded clothes on a rock. It’s like a horror film.”

As soon as he heard that, Wyler gasped.

“Oh, no.”

Michael lifted a brow.

“Oh, no, what?” he asked.

Wyler remembered the things he’d heard his whole life. In his head, he did the math, and yesterday was the Solstice.

“You have to warn her. Don’t dig into this! It’s bad! Tell her to let it be. If she digs into it, the monster that’s doing this will come for her.”

Well, shit.

It was a little too late.

Elizabeth was already digging.

And Wyler was trapped and unable to warn her.

You didn’t mess with the Wendigo, or the people who fed it.

Ever.

It was immediate death.