The Darkest Spaces (An FBI Romance/Thriller #70)

Prologue

Corpus Christi Texas

Body Dump One

The Chase

Day One

The Beginning Of The End…

When the FBI had been alerted of potential victims after setting up a nationwide BOLO regarding Devon Slater, Elizabeth knew the race was officially on. For her, there was no choice but to mobilize to not only find but stop The Grave Robber.

Devon Slater, the wealthy philanthropist, who turned serial nutbag, was on the move, and the only thing that was standing between him and his sick obsession was her.

Elizabeth knew she was the last hope to stop his oncoming reign of terror.

Oh, but he wasn’t making it easy.

NOT.

AT.

ALL.

For her, the most difficult part was saying goodbye to her kids and the husbands, in order to track the man, but it had to be done.

Oh, and it was going to be one hell of a chase too.

Unfortunately for them, he was wealthy and was afforded the same luxuries as Elizabeth.

On that front, they were on equal playing grounds.

With homes EVERYWHERE, and layers of security to his shell companies, he was able to pop underground on the West Coast and reemerge on the Eastern part of the United States in hours.

Yeah, and she couldn’t figure out how he was pulling it off. The man had to be flying, but for the life of them, they were unable to track him.

Just like no one could track her.

Again, she was foiled in her own game.

It looked like he had a fleet of jets where he could slip through her fingers, or so many passports and disguises that no one was any the wiser.

It was a nonstop race.

It began once they found Jeffrey Von Gunter’s head buried in his mother’s grave. Right after that, his business office had been a booby trap, nearly killing them.

Oh, the danger level was up.

The chase was on.

When he blew up a sports car beside their ride, and it blew out the windows of the business, they barely survived.

It had been too close.

Ivan had sustained the worst injuries when the glass cut his face and body in the explosion. The rest of them had hearing issues for a few hours.

Then, Devon was back underground again, disappearing into the world.

Just like the slippery snake he was.

As soon as the sheriff in Corpus Christi reached out to the FBI, Elizabeth was in the air, and on her way to the scene of the crime.

From the reports coming in, he’d killed three women, cut out their eyes, and took them with him for who knows what.

That had yet to be seen, but deep down, she knew what was about to go down.

A clusterfuck.

Now, Elizabeth had to get to that city, so she could figure out what his next step was going to be.

Call it a hunch, but she didn’t think it was going to be good for her, or anyone else he was targeting.

This was the issue with playing games with someone who had YEARS to prepare and was raised by a lunatic.

It came back to bite HER in the ass.

At some point, it would be the final showdown, but for now, he was playing a sick game of leading them down this trail to who knew what?

That was the big question.

What was waiting for them?

Oh, most definitely it was going to be bodies, but Elizabeth was smart enough to know that there would be more too.

Devon Slater would leave little clues in an attempt to help and hurt her. He would try to trip her up by getting her to miss the important clues and hyperfocus on the unimportant ones.

The pitfalls, if you would.

It was a matter of watching the clues and deciding what path to take.

She deemed it much like the ‘choose your own adventure’ books she loved when she was a kid. You’d make a choice, and whatever you picked had ramifications.

Some good.

Some bad.

Some deadly.

In this case, she was hoping the universe and God were on her side. There was no room for error in this, and she knew it. With each choice she made, someone’s life was on the line.

Would it be hers?

One of her children?

A husband?

Someone innocent?

She wouldn’t know until the outcome played out. Unfortunately for her, there was no beginning clues. When Devon Slater blew up his office, along with the file cabinets full of information, and probable clues, she was left to wait for the first body drop.

And here it was.

She’d gotten the call, and immediately, her jet was in the air—but not fully staffed.

No.

She wasn’t risking it.

Her family was back home in Damascus, and she was hoping that she was making the right choice.

Already, they’d moved the kids to the Puget Sound, and then they’d bounce them to Puerto Rico, where Chris had a company home.

Fiji was up next.

They would be moved non-stop. In order to keep them safe, they’d move them around until they no longer had a place to take them.

While The Hunters were using Area Fifty-Two, they’d borrow Chartres as the last stop.

It was a giant chess game where she was trying to play on two boards at once.

One for the family.

And one for the chase.

Oh, and she didn’t like this at all. This was the downfall of having a family when you were someone who played games with cuckoos.

At some point, they were going to be a target.

Unfortunately.

Elizabeth knew she had to stay one step ahead so that didn’t happen. Losing someone in her family was NOT an option.

“When do we land?” she asked Raphael, who was sitting on one side of her.

He’d apparently lost the coin toss.

Or he had a death wish.

“In five minutes. We’ve gotten a blacked-out car ready to go, and this flight isn’t on record. The President of the United States has given you carte blanche to find Devon Slater, and in doing so, you have had your clearance level bumped.”

She was curious.

“To?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“I’m going to say tier five like his. We’re only granted three,” he said, motioning at Uriel, who was parked across from them.

She said nothing.

“You good, Boo?” Raphael asked.

Elizabeth nodded.

“Yeah, I’m just reading over the preliminary report that we got sent in from the sheriff. The bodies are bad, and there’s no doubt a message in them. I just have to figure out what he’s telling me.”

As she spoke, neither Archangel said a word. They were there to protect, guide, and mostly get Elizabeth out if the shit hit the fan—Ethan’s words.

If she needed guidance on how to solve this, they had a problem.

A big one.

This wasn’t their kind of a rodeo. While they’d both run shotgun with her on cases, their specialties weren’t being utilized as of yet.

At any moment, they knew that could change.

Ivan had warned them that the shit was going to be hitting the fan, and that was DEFINITELY their rodeo.

“I want to get to the scene and go from there. Once I see it, I’ll get a feel for what he’s trying to tell me.”

Uriel was curious.

“How long are we going to be on the ground?” he asked. “So that I can notify the pilots and team.”

Yeah, about that.

She was to the point.

“Under no uncertain terms are they to let ANYONE on this jet, and they are to stay on it themselves. I plan on dipping in and getting the fuck out as quickly as possible. The less time I’m here, where he could be, the better off we all are. I have that feeling in my gut, and I don’t like it.”

Raphael knew why.

She was playing ‘just in case’.

Deep down, they knew that Elizabeth was anticipating any way that Devon Slater could slow her down, and fucking with her jet...

That would do it.

Blowing it to kingdom come would also end the game, and her life.

“Do you want one of us to stay with it?” Uriel asked.

Raphael shut that down pretty fast. Already, he didn’t like only having two people on her—even if they were Archangels. He would have preferred four, minimum, but they were divided up, ensuring the kids, Wyler, and the husbands were all covered too.

They couldn’t afford to lose a single security guy at this point, or bad shit might happen.

“Yeah, no. We’re both on her. Ivan wants double protection, and his exact words were that if she needs help wiping her ass, we’re up to bat.”

She glanced over.

“I hope that’s neither of your kinks,” she stated, “because he’s weird. Who is jumping me in a bathroom?”

Uriel was trying to keep it light. The heaviness in the jet was starting to screw with his Chi.

And he didn’t like it.

Not.

At.

All.

“Ethan, Callen, Chris, and we think Gene. Care to share on that one?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Are you petting the bear? You can tell us. We won’t say shit.”

Raphael got in on it.

“We’ll just pantomime it to the other security guys when we get back,” he teased.

That made her laugh.

These two were all kinds of wrong, but mostly in the best way. She appreciated their antics. It was helping her stay calm.

Mostly.

“They’re all perverts, and I’m not kissing and telling anything to the yentas,” she stated.

Well, shit.

That was no fun.

FOR.

THEM.

They’d been trying to get the Blackhawks to spill all the deets about it. After the wedding, when Gene got himself hitched to all of them, they wanted to know a few things.

Like were they all climbing Mt. Saint Bear, or was it just Ethan’s hobby?

Only, no one would tell them.

Yeah, they were yentas, but what else were they supposed to do in their down time?

Crochet?

Gossiping was their only extracurricular hobby that seemed worthwhile to fill their time. Out of all of them, the Blackhawks had the most gossip-worthy relationship.

“Come on,” Raph said, getting her to smile. “You know you want to share with us. I’m away from my sexy husband. Give me something to giggle about.”

She snorted.

“Absolutely not. Ask Caspian about his sex life. He’s just started a relationship. I’m fifteen years in or more. I’m old news.”

Raphael glanced over at the man, and he shut that shit down.

“Not happening, Winn. Move along. Nothing to see here,” he said, laughing. “I’m not giving you lunatics anything because you’re a bunch of juvenile perverts. Period.”

Winn lowered his voice and ignored him.

“Is it wild with the Native in the sack?” he asked.

Caspian flipped him off.

“Yes. Now shut up.”

They all found that amusing. The man just couldn’t help himself. He was happy and in a damn good place in his life. Why not shout it from the rooftops?