Page 32 of Chaos has a Name (An FBI Romance/Thriller #66)

“So everyone just looks the other way?” Ethan asked. “Because I remember Timothy telling us as kids about something like this, but only to scare us straight. I’m not sure he believed it.”

Tom was direct.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“We all believe. The Wendigo is dangerous, and it haunts our lands. Every year, one person goes missing. If you say you found remains…”

Uh…

They had news for him.

Lots of people went missing on reservations. They were the people who got the hell out of Dodge while they could, and they just didn’t tell anyone.

Right?

Had there really been some mythical creature being given sacrifices once a year by actual people who should know better?

What the hell?

How did that not throw up red flags with every single person there who could be chosen to die?

How did they accept that?

Oh, Elizabeth was not going to like this woo-woo shit, and Callen knew it. When they heard about it earlier, it was surprising.

Now, it was annoying.

Ethan shared what they knew in order to get approval to dig into this.

Could they do it without approval?

Yes.

Would they?

Yes.

It was still good relations to not come in like a bulldozer and level everything.

“Someone went missing, a man by the name of Thomas Adsila. When the sister showed up to report blood at his cabin, the deputies tracked the blood to the furthest campground where the clothing was found neatly folded. Chief Running Wolf’s dog dug up the remains.”

Tom shook his head.

“It’s The Hollow. You should leave it be. He moves through the night, and has the head of a stag, with antlers. All the older members of the reservation know of it. We also know that if you challenge it, bad things can happen to all of us!”

Yeah, well, they really didn’t have a choice. The law of the land said killing was a crime, even if it was for cultural reasons.

Human sacrifice was a big no-no anywhere in the world and with good reason.

The bigger question for Callen was how did they grow up here and not know someone was killing a person every year for shits and giggles over a story handed down by people?

That was bizarre for a few reasons. One, because it was just a story, and two, no one here ever thought that was wrong?

Yowza.

Yeah, this was jacked-up.

“We can’t ignore it, Chief,” Callen said. “Murder is murder, and you know we’re obligated to look into it whenever it pops up.”

The man stood his ground.

And it didn’t look like he was going to just let them have full reign—which was interesting since this was now technically their jurisdiction.

“You are of this land. The Hollow has benefited all of us. It keeps us safe. Look at your life now because of it.”

What?

The?

Hell?

Their lives were the way they were because they got off the rez, and worked damn hard to make a life for themselves.

No freaking ‘Wendigo’ sacrifice helped them achieve this life. That was crazy-ass bullshit that couldn’t possibly be believed, could it be?

Fate was fate.

Life wasn’t a lottery.

For both Callen and Ethan, this was the most frustrating thing about the older Natives. They believed lore, not logic, and there was no arguing with them over it either.

They wouldn’t change their mind.

EVER.

For them, now, the delicate dance began. For them, FBI employees, it was best to work around this whole situation the best they could.

For Callen, he was going to try to be respectful while doing his job, and that was no easy task when it came to this insanity.

“Chief, we have to look into it if blood is found, and a person is missing. This isn’t new to any of us. You know that. Homicide is homicide, and that warrants an investigation.”

He sighed, and truthfully, he didn’t look happy about it either. Well, that was the most normal thing today. A Native not happy the FBI was going to go buck wild on their reservation?

Yeah, been there, done that more times than Callen could count on one hand.

“And now the FBI has to investigate it?”

They didn’t really have a choice. Once they were notified, the clock started ticking.

The FBI was on the case.

“Chief, while the FBI doesn’t have complete jurisdiction here, they do when remains are found or there’s a homicide. We don’t need one or ten bodies. One death, and it immediately reverts to our responsibility.”

The man looked annoyed.

Not surprisingly though.

“Rayna Running Wolf loses jurisdiction as soon as a possible murder has happened. That’s the rules. Us coming here is a formality of respect that we have for you and council,” Callen said, being respectful, but standing his ground.

For.

A.

Reason.

Elizabeth was going to bust balls over this if she was stonewalled.

Bet.

On.

It.

There is no way she was going to want to hear that once a year, on the Summer Solstice, someone took a human being, randomly, and executed them to a mythical creature to protect all the other humans—and the reservation leadership was good with it.

She’d start to question sanity like they were.

Tom Redbear put his soup down and stared into their eyes.

“I understand that, but you’re going to cause so many issues. To mess with The Hollow is dangerous. This has been someone who has done this for so many decades.”

Ethan needed to make sure.

“By someone, do you mean one person or a family of persons, or is this a legacy thing?” he asked, curiously. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he’d already begun profiling it in his head for his wife.

“I wish I could answer that. Unfortunately, I can’t.

No one knows who does it. From what I was told as a child by my father, there is a family here that has been tasked with this duty.

It passes on when The Hollow goes to the Happy Hunting Grounds.

The next generation picks up where the last left off. ”

Callen went there.

“And you haven’t heard anything about someone being that role? Ever?”

The man shook his head.

“No. I don’t dwell on it because it’s happened before I was born, and it will continue with my passing. Like I said, it’s just always been. My father would tell me to stay in and behave, or The Hollow would take me. He was always adamant about it too.”

This was insanity, but they believed him since Timothy had done the same.

Since they believed the man didn’t know more, it was time to start doing their job as agents.

Callen was curious.

“Where can we learn more? You know, do some research to see what we’re up against?”

Tom Redbear shrugged.

“As the council, we have an old book mentioning it in the archives here in the office. Someone long ago wrote a journal entry about it. Other than that, I don’t recommend digging into it. It’s dangerous, boys. I’m sure Timothy warned you.”

Oh, he did.

In fact, he made them stay in, and he walked around the whole night as if he was waiting for the angel of death to come for one of his boys.

Now, they understood.

Timothy had been protecting his hellions who could have been tagged as the sacrifice.

As for it being dangerous…

“We have no choice but to do this, Chief. We’re sorry, but we can promise to be delicate and not upset anyone who believes in The Hollow.”

The man sighed.

“The Hollow will get angry,” he began, but then he stopped talking when the door opened, and two men walked in.

It appeared, the leaders of the tribe were ready to meet.

One they recognized from their youth, and their father’s life, and one they didn’t.

Both Ethan and Callen stood to greet them. Lance Running Wolf hugged them both.

“Hello, boys,” he said. “I hope you and your family are well. We’ve heard you brought your whole family back.”

Yes, yes, they had.

Oh, they were falling apart at the seams, but only because of Wyler running for it.

As for this man, they knew him because he had once been friends with Wyler.

Best.

Friends.

That was until the day that they’d coveted the same woman. Wyler won, and Lance held a grudge, mostly because of how shitty a husband Wyler had been.

To that day, he didn’t believe that Wyler had ever deserved Catherine and her love. Unfortunately for Wyler, Timothy had a fond spot for Lance, and he genuinely liked the man.

That caused more tension than not. It always rubbed Wyler the wrong way that his father was siding with the enemy.

The irony was Lance had been right.

Wyler had been a shit husband, and a terrible human being when it came to Catherine. He hurt her in ways he never quite understood.

If fate had been different, Ethan would have been born a Redbear, and wouldn’t have been related to Callen—at all. That might be why they had been tied at the soul, and had held off on their relationship for so long.

Fate had two paths for them, and they’d ended up on the Blackhawk one.

Together.

The Great Spirit’s plans had been thwarted, and they’d been pushed together as brothers.

“Hello,” Ethan said, as they both greeted the other man.

Abe Crowfeather shook their hands and then took a seat on one side of Tom.

“To what do we owe this?” Abe asked, curious as to what the men were asking about because Tom looked agitated. It wasn’t easy to do that.

Because they needed to know, Tom caught them up to speed, starting with the easiest information.

“The president’s daughter is with her in-laws, and they need our permission for the Secret Service to be here. They also have a law issue. Your daughter, Lance, has found herself in a mess. They found remains, and folded clothing on the edge of the reservation.”

Neither man looked surprised at the last part. That told them all they needed to know.

What the hell?

Was the old generation out of their ever-loving minds when it came to this insanity?

That had to be it.

Only, before they could speak, Tom continued, digging the very deep hole for them.

Ironically.

“They are asking permission to investigate The Hollow,” he said, and immediately, Callen corrected him.