Page 92 of Sticks and Stones (FBI Romance/Thriller #65)

“He’s recovering, and that’s why we’re handling this. We were called in, and then, the drugs came into play. It led us down this rabbit hole, so anything you can give us…”

Reed got it.

“I’ll compare their faces to missing person reports when I get them in. I’ll work fast.”

They had to warn him.

“Don’t come in contact with the powder. If you find open balloons, or if one opens, use biological protocols.”

His eyes were huge.

“That bad?” he asked.

Gene nodded.

“Full PPE when you’re autopsying. It’s a nasty drug,” he said, not giving him more.

Ethan had an idea.

“I need a favor. I need to see if that ballon, specifically the fecal matter, belongs to the victim it was found by. Can you check?”

He was confused.

“You don’t think he shit it out?” he asked.

It didn’t fit.

There was no way. They had the bikers last night, and they knew the process. It was pass off the drugs, and have the bikers pick up the men. They’d use them, and then drop them with the buyer. There was no way the bikers could have dropped them off.”

Gene was with Ethan on this.

“It’s the aberration. We caught the people raping the victims and using them as mules. They’re in custody. If that body had that drug in it, we’re chasing the wrong lead, and this killer has just pulled the greatest ‘fuck you’ to us. Please check.”

Well, he could do that.

“Okay, let’s see the bodies.”

He brought them to the tarp, and he had the city techs move it.

Reed pointed at the one body.

“It was under him,” he said.

They waited for Reed to instruct his people.

“I need to see if any of them defecated. Who does this belong to?” he asked, as he held up the baggie.

They waited. When the bodies were moved, not one of them had shit on them.

“Maybe they expelled them from their bodies elsewhere,” Reed offered when it didn’t look like it came from them.”

Ethan didn’t buy that.

“Or the person who killed them did this to point away from him.”

Yeah, Gene agreed.

“Someone’s playing games with us. Someone is having a good time too.”

Ethan was to the point.

“He’s trying to skew the investigation, all the while he’s unloading his merchandise,” Ethan said. “How much do you want to bet he knows his helpers are in custody and his hopes are this got past the city ME?” Ethan said, when the MO had changed.

Reed didn’t like that.

“I don’t miss things.”

Gene was to the point.

“Be angry at the killer, not us. We trust your findings. That’s why we offered to let you do this.”

That seemed to calm him down.

As for Ethan and Gene, they were anything but calm. They were annoyed.

These three didn’t die of a drug overdose, or from rough sex. With the exception of the abrasions on their wrists and ankles, their bodies were pristine.

“Their throats are cut,” Reed said. “That’s exsanguination as COD. That’s my temporary finding until I get them in. It’s sadistic to dump them naked, and to do any of this to them.”

Ethan knew why.

“Trace,” he said. “The killer wouldn’t want us getting any carpet fibers, or anything that would lead us to who they are. Again, he’s playing a game.”

Reed hoped they found whoever was behind this.

“Get us any trace you can pull, Doc,” Gene said. “We aren’t counting on any, but see what you can find. Try to play match the shit to the victim, but already, we know what’s going on. That’s a red herring. Let us know if they were sexually assaulted.”

That he could do.

“Give me a few hours,” he said. “I’ll call you. I’ll have my team start working on trace now.”

They appreciated that.

“We’ll be in touch,” Gene said, knowing it would take a few hours for the man to get the autopsies done.

They had to keep moving.

Looking at his watch, Gene knew what time Bull’s opened. They were closed yesterday to lay low, but he’d bet the bikers were back at it today.

“We have an hour until Bull’s opens for the day. We need to call Greyson, and see if he’s good to join us.”

That worked for Ethan.

Pulling out his phone, he made the call.

“Croft,” came his voice over the phone. “What’s up, Ethan?” he asked.

It was time to share the fun.

“We just caught three more victims. It looks like the killer is dumping and running. Only, he’s getting spicy. We found a packet of Snow, or what we think is Snow. We also found the balloon. The ME suggested it was shit out of him.”

Greyson was confused.

“How is that possible? You told me the steps were pick up the drugs, pick up the victims, fuck them, and then fill them. The CIA has the bikers. Did we miss someone?”

No, they were betting not.

“Ethan and I saw the ballon with shit on it, and none of the victims look to have defecated.”

“So a setup?”

“Yes. Someone is trying to mess with us or redirect us. We need to hit the bar in a bit to see if Cash Masters is there, or on the run.”

Greyson didn’t mind.

“I’m assuming we’re going in with badges not leather pants and vests?”

He laughed.

“Yeah, it’s too damn cold for chaps,” he joked. “Where can you meet us?”

Greyson wanted to talk to them about Sasha, but not over the phone.

In person.

“Let’s meet at the café that’s four blocks from Bull’s ,” he suggested. “Then, we can head in. How many people do you want as backup?”

Gene wanted to go in with a few but not too many. They didn’t want to draw attention.

“Ten max. We’ll go in, but we might need people for transport,” he admitted.

Greyson could do that.

“See you there in a few,” he admitted. “Oh, and be ready to have your mind blown,” he offered, right before hanging up.

Gene stared at the phone.

“I’d rather just get blown. Why does it always have to be my mind in this city?”

Ethan laughed.

That was anyone’s guess.

As they moved back toward the parking lot, Gene was looking at the reporters, and he was going to take an educated guess.

“How much do you want to bet that the person who is behind this just tossed us to the media wolves to keep us busy?” he asked. “If he’s willing to use a balloon of drugs and someone’s shit, this isn’t a stretch.”

No, it wasn’t.

Blackhawk laughed.

“I’m not taking that bet. This killer is intelligent, and he’s likely thinking we’re not. That balloon is going to bite him in the ass. As for the media, I’m one hundred percent sure that we were just tossed to the wolves. The City of Brotherly Love my ass,” he said.

Yeah, he could say that again.

Philly had zero love.

For them.

* * * Blackhawk & Cantrell * * *

The Condo

Afternoon

Corbin was just waking up. The last thing he remembered, he was on the couch after his bath, and Will had been rubbing his feet as they watched a movie.

It was the ONLY part of his body that didn’t hurt, and he’d appreciated the gentle contact. It had lulled him into sleep.

Now, though, he was awake, and the place was quiet. When he looked around, no one was there.

“Will?” he called.

No one answered.

In that moment, he started getting scared. He was alone, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. There was panic, and his heart was racing in his chest.

That’s when he saw it.

There was a note folded on the coffee table, and it was addressed to him.

That’s when he just knew it. This was going to be a ‘Dead Corby’ letter, where the man knew how bad it was, and decided to bail after all.

Of course, it was.

Reaching for it, his hand was shaking, but he knew he needed to get it over with as soon as possible.

Unfolding it, he read it over.

‘My love,

I had to run out to my place for some clothes to stay there with you. I don’t have a key, so you’re my only way back in. I’ll knock three times. Can you let your man back in? I’ll have a surprise for you.

Love you forever,

Will.’

After he read it, there was calm. It wasn’t his man bailing after seeing his body.

No, he was sticking.

After the bath, he knew Will was upset. He knew that what he’d seen that had been done to him had been a lot to swallow, and Corbin had seen the pain in his eyes.

But there wasn’t pity.

So, he’d won on that front.

Now, he’d just wait there, and pray he got home as fast as possible.

When he heard a phone ringing, he didn’t know where it was coming from. There shouldn’t be a phone there since everyone was gone.

Getting up, he followed the sound, and that’s when he found it sitting on the kitchen counter.

It was his phone.

What was this?

Where did it come from?

As he picked it up, he saw Ethan’s face on the screen, and he answered it.

“Yes?” he asked, thinking it was a trick.

Only, it wasn’t.

“Hey! I didn’t have Will’s number, and this was the only way to get a hold of you. I was hoping you’d answer if you heard it.”

He was confused.

“When did you find it?” he asked. “Did you come back here?”

Ethan explained. It was time to come clean, and own how he’d forgotten.

“No, I found it last night at the biker’s home. In the drawer right next to it is your wallet, gun, and badge. You weren’t in a good place this morning, so I didn’t bring it up. I apologize for not getting it to you sooner.”

Honestly, he was just grateful that he’d found it.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked. “I wanted to check on you. We’re on our way to meet Greyson, and then to hit Bull’s .”

At his words, Corbin’s his heart was racing.

“Please don’t go there,” he whispered. “It’s dangerous.”

Ethan reassured him.

“We’re going with ten other feds, and guns. We’ll be good. I told you, Corbin, the men who did this to you are handled. We are kicking in a door, not going undercover. Breathe.”

Hearing that, Corbin calmed down.

“Okay.”

Ethan shared so he could feel like he had some control, and because the media might know more than they’d been asking, or might find out more.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Corbin did.

“Absolutely. I trust you and Gene with my life. Why? What’s going on?”

He told him about the bodies, the media on the scene, and how they were asking about a cop who got hurt. Oh, and how they had to tell Reed about what was going down.

He was silent.