Read Online The Killing Times (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 1)) by Morgan Kelley - Free Book Online
Authors: Morgan Kelley
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gets us one of those. Not to mention we know nothing about this sheriff. He’s probably old, sweaty, bald, and wears those tacky brown uniforms. He probably hasn’t a clue which way is up, and now we’re going to have to babysit some hick,” she pointed at him. “All while you get us shot at again by some homicidal local.”
Blackhawk couldn’t help but laugh, “Lily, look at the files. Check out the meticulous notes. This Sheriff LaRue isn’t an idiot. He assesses like we do, so he’s had law enforcement experience, and I’m willing to bet that he did time in the FBI.”
“ Well that’s good to know. At least we have a bald, sweaty sheriff, who couldn’t cut it in the FBI, to lead us around.”
But Blackhawk didn’t hear her . He was too busy reading the files and trying to decipher the information. From what he saw, the sheriff definitely was right. The bodies were piling up and leads weren’t. That suited him just fine; he needed a distraction from the woman in his dreams.
Ethan looked forward to this assignment and escaping the mystery woman who was taking over his nights. He was beginning to think he was crazy, falling for a woman who didn’t even exist. Maybe it was hopeless, and he needed to move on and see a shrink after all. The raven haired beauty just didn’t exist. She was a figment of his imagination. He needed to just come to grips with that, and admit it was fun while it lasted. Granted, the dreams heated his body like no real woman ever managed, and he fell for her scent and voice. But it was time to find a flesh and blood female and start dating again. Maybe she was a manifestation of his pent up sexual desire. What he needed was to find someone of the opposite sex who turned him on, as he got off a few times to forget her.
Blackhawk’s mind was made up . As soon as this assignment was over, so was his nighttime fantasy.
And yet…
Even though he tried talking himself out of the raven haired beauty, he still found himself dwelling on her. Something about her was completely alluring. This mystery woman was so distracting that he never noticed Gabe didn’t include the dossier on the sheriff.
Again , he forced himself to move on in his mind. “Goodbye dream woman,” he whispered, closing his eyes briefly for one last glimpse of the memories he’d squirreled away.
Then it was time to start living once again.
~ Chapter Three ~
Thursday Early Morning
Elizabeth sat in ‘The Barrel’ , mulling over her notes. It was the little place her half-brother owned and operated. She spent a great deal of her down time there. Whenever Elizabeth needed a quiet place to work, she would stop in, grab her coffee and have silence. Then at night she sometimes would grab a beer here with her deputies.
Behind the bar was Beatrice, and she was making another pot of coffee in preparation for the morning crowd. Soon breakfast would be served, coffee handed out, and the town folk would be in to gossip about the bodies. Hopefully before they arrived, she would have the FBI agents long gone and safely tucked away in her office.
Keeping anything quiet in Salem was nothing short of a miracle. Word here travelled faster than the Black Death during the medieval times.
Elizabeth glanced up as her half-brother entered for his morning shift. It wasn’t odd to find him working late and early, it was after all, his place. George was one of those annoying people who didn’t need sleep.
After work, he could be found in his workshop, refinishing furniture . In fact, Elizabeth was pretty sure he never slept; it was beginning to make her think he probably wasn’t human.
“Hey E.L,” he said, straddling the chair. Ever since they were kid s he called her by her initials or her nickname. He liked the way it sounded much better than boring old Elizabeth.
“Hey
Blackhawk couldn’t help but laugh, “Lily, look at the files. Check out the meticulous notes. This Sheriff LaRue isn’t an idiot. He assesses like we do, so he’s had law enforcement experience, and I’m willing to bet that he did time in the FBI.”
“ Well that’s good to know. At least we have a bald, sweaty sheriff, who couldn’t cut it in the FBI, to lead us around.”
But Blackhawk didn’t hear her . He was too busy reading the files and trying to decipher the information. From what he saw, the sheriff definitely was right. The bodies were piling up and leads weren’t. That suited him just fine; he needed a distraction from the woman in his dreams.
Ethan looked forward to this assignment and escaping the mystery woman who was taking over his nights. He was beginning to think he was crazy, falling for a woman who didn’t even exist. Maybe it was hopeless, and he needed to move on and see a shrink after all. The raven haired beauty just didn’t exist. She was a figment of his imagination. He needed to just come to grips with that, and admit it was fun while it lasted. Granted, the dreams heated his body like no real woman ever managed, and he fell for her scent and voice. But it was time to find a flesh and blood female and start dating again. Maybe she was a manifestation of his pent up sexual desire. What he needed was to find someone of the opposite sex who turned him on, as he got off a few times to forget her.
Blackhawk’s mind was made up . As soon as this assignment was over, so was his nighttime fantasy.
And yet…
Even though he tried talking himself out of the raven haired beauty, he still found himself dwelling on her. Something about her was completely alluring. This mystery woman was so distracting that he never noticed Gabe didn’t include the dossier on the sheriff.
Again , he forced himself to move on in his mind. “Goodbye dream woman,” he whispered, closing his eyes briefly for one last glimpse of the memories he’d squirreled away.
Then it was time to start living once again.
~ Chapter Three ~
Thursday Early Morning
Elizabeth sat in ‘The Barrel’ , mulling over her notes. It was the little place her half-brother owned and operated. She spent a great deal of her down time there. Whenever Elizabeth needed a quiet place to work, she would stop in, grab her coffee and have silence. Then at night she sometimes would grab a beer here with her deputies.
Behind the bar was Beatrice, and she was making another pot of coffee in preparation for the morning crowd. Soon breakfast would be served, coffee handed out, and the town folk would be in to gossip about the bodies. Hopefully before they arrived, she would have the FBI agents long gone and safely tucked away in her office.
Keeping anything quiet in Salem was nothing short of a miracle. Word here travelled faster than the Black Death during the medieval times.
Elizabeth glanced up as her half-brother entered for his morning shift. It wasn’t odd to find him working late and early, it was after all, his place. George was one of those annoying people who didn’t need sleep.
After work, he could be found in his workshop, refinishing furniture . In fact, Elizabeth was pretty sure he never slept; it was beginning to make her think he probably wasn’t human.
“Hey E.L,” he said, straddling the chair. Ever since they were kid s he called her by her initials or her nickname. He liked the way it sounded much better than boring old Elizabeth.
“Hey
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