Page 91 of Sticks and Stones (FBI Romance/Thriller #65)

He hoped this was quick, and the man wasn’t playing games. They really wanted to get this handled and back out. If they had time, he wanted to switch out Ethan’s car for his truck.

The roads were shit.

God.

He wished he was in Puerto Rico .

As they sat there, the clock was ticking, and when they had been sitting there for seven minutes, Gene was ready to kick open a door and head in.

This was retaliation, and he’d played this game before. He didn’t plan on humoring this dickwad.

Just as he was about to say something, his phone rang. When he pulled it out, he saw it was Reed Peterson’s number.

“He’s likely calling about the drugs or any more victims in the system who matched the others. Maybe he’ll help us tie this case up in a pretty bow.”

Well, thank God.

They needed something. They were hitting walls on this one.

He answered.

“Yo. Cantrell,” he said, putting it on speaker so Ethan could hear.

The man’s voice came over the line, and it sounded like he was outside in the wind.

“Agent, we have an issue,” Reed said.

Oh, no.

Now what?

“What’s up, Doc?” he asked.

The man was to the point.

“I was just called to a scene. It’s in a park. There’s a multiple body dump here. I have three victims, and we found something that is alarming.”

Gene was curious, and so was Ethan.

“What?” he asked.

Reed was to the point.

“When we rolled one of the victims over, the freshest one, he was lying on a little baggy of white powder. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but I noticed that one of the victims has the same burn on his hip. I think we have more victims tied to your case.”

Well, shit.

“Seriously?” Gene asked.

Oh, Reed wished he wasn’t serious about this.

“Yeah. Do you want me to call it in to be official, or do you want to see it first? I’ll hold the scene for you until you can get here. We have them covered for now with a tarp to protect any evidence, but they’ve been outside for a few hours.”

Gene needed to get there.

“Hold the scene,” he said. “We’re on our way. Text me the location.”

“See you then, Agent.”

Hanging up, Gene glanced over and both he and Ethan had the same feeling about this.

The killer likely knew that his transporters were caught up in the FBI net.

“We have to roll. Come on,” he said. “If these bodies are fresh, we just spooked the killer.”

Ethan sighed.

“Well, this is about to be fun,” he admitted, knowing now that it was a chase. Whoever was behind this was likely getting ready to go deep and hide, or run.

Shit.

“Yeah, I’m going to bet that the packet of Snow in the snow is going to tie this together,” he said, heading to Landry’s desk. “Your boss is out of luck. We have three more victims at a park. We’re out of here.”

The man gasped.

“You can’t leave! The commissioner…”

Gene leaned over the desk and stared the man in the eyes.

“Do I look like I’m afraid? I’m chasing down a killer, and I’m about to catch him. Your boss can suck a bag of dicks for all I care. He made us wait. Now, he’ll have to chill out and wait for our official report,” he admitted, turning and heading toward the door.

Ethan was beside him.

Outside the office, he laughed.

“You know Gabe’s calling you out on the bag of dicks comment,” he stated.

He shrugged.

“At this point, EJ, I’d rather be working a case that has an actual bag of dicks than this mess. Once Gabe finds out we have a baggie of Snow, he’s going to be twitchy. That means there’s more here.”

Yeah, and Ethan knew one thing.

Gene.

Was.

Right.

Gabe was about to lose his mind.

* * * Blackhawk & Cantrell * * *

The Park

Twenty Minutes Later

Almost Two P.M.

When they got to that scene, there were cops, there was the ME van, and there was media.

It was any agent’s trifecta of pain in the ass.

Oh, holy shit!

There wasn’t just media, but there were media times ten. There were cameras, reporters, newspapers, and all the accoutrements that went with that shitshow.

That was the not so good part. The last thing Gene wanted to deal with was the media up his ass.

How they got alerted…he had no idea. What he did know was there were so many goddamn reporters there that it was going to be almost impossible to avoid this hitting the news.

That was the last thing they needed. Keeping this off of the record was essential to making sure Corbin’s assault stayed quiet. That was a problem.

They had to lock this down, and keep it from the media free-for-all.

Heading toward the tape, they both had their badges tucked into the pocket of their Kevlar, so that they were easily seen.

The cops on the tape lifted it, and didn’t hassle them.

Thank.

God.

As they walked the path that led to where the bodies were, Reed caught them, and walked beside them.

“Agents, someone walking their dog on the path not far from here found the bodies. Well, their dog did. The dog ran into the trees, smelling something, and when the person followed, they found them.”

Ethan was making notes as Gene talked to Reed about the victims.

“How long were they out here?” he asked. “Are we talking any evidence is shot to shit because of the snow?”

The man nodded.

“It looks as if they were dumped about nine hours ago. I took their internal temps, did the math, and came up with body-cicle. I’m guessing around six this morning, but it could be earlier. You know how it is. I also can’t give you TOD, because the weather jacked that up.”

Well, shit.

This killer was one step ahead of them. There was no doubt in their minds that he’d found out that his lackeys were MIA.

Reed kept talking.

“They are so fresh I’m thinking that someone just offed them this morning. There’s no blood on the scene, that we can tell. We didn’t find any droplets in the snow, but we did find some faint drag marks from that parking lot,” he said, pointing up.

Gene was listening.

“I really thought this was a normal case, as normal as a triple homicide is, but that’s when we found this when we moved the victims to be side-by-side, and not in a pile.”

He pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket, and held it up. In it, there was a tiny bag with a white powder in it. In the second bag, there was a blue balloon.

There was shit all over it.

Literal.

Shit.

“Uh, what’s with that?” Gene asked, pointing at the balloon.

Reed filled him in.

“You know how when you die, your muscles relax, and you defecate?” he asked.

Gene nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, and then, he got it. “So that was in his bowels, and he shit it out when the killer took him out?”

Reed nodded.

“I’m betting when I get him open, I find more,” he said. “Unless you’re passing this off to your ME.”

Well, that wasn’t happening.

They wanted this quiet, and it was easiest to let Reed help them.

“You can take it. We’ll use your findings.”

They had a bigger issue. The bikers told them that they were in charge of stuffing the victims with the drugs. If they had the bikers, and they were the transporter, how did the drugs get in the victims?

It made sense to have the victims, but without the drugs. Then, it was a dump and run.

“EJ,” Gene said, and they passed a look between them that said the same thing.

“This is off,” Ethan admitted.

From beside them, Reed stared at them.

“Okay, what gives?” he asked. “You’re not stealing bodies, and you’re playing nice. That’s him,” he said, pointing at Ethan. “Not you. You’re a dick.”

Blackhawk laughed and then covered it up with a cough when his man stared over at him.

“For the record,” Gene said, “this city made me this way. I used to be nice.”

Somehow, Reed didn’t believe that.

This man busted balls all of the time.

“Just read me in on this. I know something huge is going on. The pack of media asking questions is my big clue. What cop got hurt?” he asked.

That had them both pausing.

“Pardon?” he asked.

Reed explained.

“The media was shouting questions about a cop getting hurt. I’m going to say it’s Detective Price because he’s normally up both of your asses when you have a case that we pass off. He’s nowhere to be found, and you have seen me twice.”

Ethan looked over at Gene.

This was a predicament.

Did they tell him?

Could they trust him?

The man saw the look, and he dug in.

“I’m playing nice,” he said. “I can call the commissioner, and I can start digging. You can trust me. I’m very good at my job.”

“And annoying,” Gene said.

The man shrugged.

“Oh, no, I’ve annoyed Agent Cantrell. That’s the best way to start the week.”

Gene growled.

That’s when Ethan took over. One of them was NOT diplomatic, and it wasn’t him who had the issue.

“It’s sensitive,” Ethan said. “If we tell you, Reed, you really need to keep your mouth shut. It’s career ending, and bad.”

The man’s eyes were huge.

“Oh, no. What’s happened?”

Because this man was Corbin’s friend, and they had a good relationship, he told him.

Keeping his voice down, Ethan shared what he could.

“Corbin went under to work a case on men being sold in the sex trafficking ring that’s going on in this city. Someone’s taking men, packing them full of drugs, raping them, and selling them to rich buyers.”

He looked disgusted.

That’s when it hit him.

“Is Corbin okay?” he whispered. “Did something happen to him?”

There was no way they were giving him the gory details. That wasn’t happening.

Instead, they said nothing at all.

“Oh, shit. Okay! I get it. I’m in. I’ll do the bodies, and I’ll play nice. I have some news about what I promised I’d look up for you,” he said, immediately being helpful.

That was nice for a change.

“I went back through the autopsies in the last year, and I found four with the same unknown substance. There were four men who were autopsied by city MEs, and the drug was never identified.”

Ethan shared.

“We know the drug, Reed. We can’t give you a name since it’s a new drug that’s popped up. The alphabet agencies are on it, and it’s classified.”

He didn’t push.

“Just tell me that Detective Price is okay. He’s a nice guy, and my friend.”

Gene went there.