Chapter Six #2
You’d have to be blind and a freaking idiot to conduct a church service and not see the two dusty-musty skeletons lying on the altar with fresh eyeballs sitting in the ocular orbit holes. That was a scene only a serial killer could create and love.
Dex looked over at Quinn.
It appeared it was mission accomplished for the two DC cops. Their friend had a crime scene, and from the looks of it, the crazy had been working overtime.
“Call Elizabeth. It looks like she was right about the killer striking in DC. That’s going to be for her.”
Yeah, no doubt.
The crazy was in town, and it wanted Elizabeth’s attention.
Clearly.
* * * The Blackhawks * * *
Holy Redeemer Church
Eight A.M.
Second Crime Scene
It had been a long night, and Elizabeth had barely slept at all. That hadn’t put her in a sunshine-y mood when the sun came up.
Yeah, she got a catnap in from three to five, and the rest of the time, she was coordinating with The Hunters, making sure they were doing okay in the UK.
The footlocker had been secured, and The Hunters were on the cusp of handling Von Donore. All she had to do was hold out as long as she could until she could get backup.
Already, she and Maura were getting a plan in order.
Now, with the call from Quinn that they’d found bodies, she knew the dog-and-pony show continued.
With the fact that yesterday was a church day, and the remains hadn’t been there, that told her that she was HOURS behind the killer.
No longer was she scared that he’d get too far ahead, and she’d lose him.
This told her all she needed to know.
She was on his ass. The stop in NOLA to get The Hunters situated didn’t screw her over.
That gave her a little bit of energy, as she arrived to do her job.
Oh, and she wasn’t alone going to that church. She had a five-Marine escort.
Gunny.
Gideon.
Johnny.
Uriel.
And Raphael.
They were so far up her ass that morning, they were all married in some third-world countries.
Yeah, that close.
“Here’s the plan,” Raphael stated, from his spot in the passenger seat of the blacked-out, bulletproof ride.
It was clear he wasn’t playing.
“Three of us on the director, and two in the vehicle in case we need to move quickly. I want to be able to extract her if the shit hits the fan.”
As he spoke, she stared at him.
Had he lost his damn mind?
Raphael was ALMOST as bad as Ivan. There was now a Toadstool two-point-oh.
She put a stop to that.
Having two Ivans was too much for anyone to handle, especially her.
“My dude, I have husbands. I think I can get on and off of a crime scene without you having to write up an invasion plan. You’re worse than Ivan. Calm the fuck down. It’s too early, and I’m not nearly caffeinated enough for this bullshit.”
Oh, well, he had news for her.
“Ivan is PISSED. He’s stirred up that Jet died, and he’s really stirred up that you tangled with a Russian killer without him.
If I don’t do what he asks, my ass is getting chewed up, spit out, and then chewed up all over again.
If you think you don’t like dealing with Toady, imagine how all of us feel being dressed down by the man.
He’s enough to make your day go to shit. ”
They all agreed there.
Only, Elizabeth knew the truth.
“He’s angry he’s not here. He’s not pissed at any of you. If anything, I’m the one who is going to get her ass chewed. I can handle Toady. You guys just don’t get shot in the head!” she stated. “I don’t need to call Callen and ask to have another white dude buried on the rez!”
Despite her ability to handle him, Raphael wasn’t willing to take a chance.
Not.
Today.
Satan.
“You’re to stay between us, and we’ll make sure no one shoots you,” he stated, basically ignoring her.
But that posed one question.
“Who will keep you guys from being hurt?” she asked. “Because to me, that’s just as bad as myself being shot. I can’t handle much more, guys. I’m halfway over the bridge to Crazy-town. One more thing, and I’m packing it in.”
They all knew how bad it had to be for her to say that. Elizabeth didn’t quit, and it was rare that you saw the cracks in the veneer.
Oh, and there were so many cracks. Normally, she was slick, and she knew how to play the game.
It was clear that Devon Slater had mind fucked her good.
That was more of a reason to make sure she was safe, protected, and out of harm’s way.
“Let us worry about that,” Raphael said. “Gideon is on com, and he’s got some tech with him. We’re locking down any transmittable cameras to make sure you’re not being watched by this killer. Gunny is locked and loaded,” he stated.
They heard the click and slide of a gun being readied in case it was needed.
“See?” he asked.
Because she could see the tension in his face, Elizabeth patted Raphael on the shoulder.
“I have one thing to say.”
They waited for her to fight them.
“I love you guys. In case I don’t get a chance to say it again, please know that you made my life better, and I’m grateful to have had the pleasure to call you my family.”
Oh, boy.
That sounded like she was giving up, and they didn’t like that.
Not.
At.
All.
“It’s going to be okay,” Uriel said, as he drove them in the borrowed Secret Service SUV. “We got you, boo.”
Yeah, but at what cost?
That was the problem.
For Elizabeth, the cost was already too high with losing Jet, and she didn’t want to say goodbye to any more of her family.
For now, she had to push on.
“Here’s the real plan,” she stated. “We’re getting in, getting this assessed, and getting out of here.
I don’t want to be on the ground for long.
He’s likely dropped these remains and is already on his way.
The good news is we’re on his ass. The bad news is, I don’t know what he’s telling me yet about this scene. That’s going to play heavily in this.”
They were curious.
Raphael went there.
“Where do you think he’ll go next?” he asked. What he wanted to do was get her home. She was favoring her one shoulder, and it was clear that she had been injured during the rollover, and they’d not noticed.
What she needed was to be with the family, and have Chris check her out.
That was on the top of his list.
Well, other than them all surviving. He hadn’t been kidding about Ivan going nuclear. One more incident, and he was getting his ass kicked.
To answer his question, honestly, she wasn’t sure where he’d go next.
“I guess I’ll know when I see what he’s left me in the way of clues. He likes to paint a picture.”
That was for sure.
And what a foul one it tended to be.
As they pulled up to the quiet street in the nice neighborhood, it was already a shitshow.
The media must have been monitoring their police radios, because there was a throng of reporters waiting for her.
Why wasn’t she shocked?
Why not add more stress to the situation?
As they pulled up, cops were at the tape, and luckily, they’d blocked off much of the street, giving Elizabeth a clear path in under the tape.
They wanted to be as close to the building as possible in order to stay out of harm’s way.
When the window went down, Uriel kept it at the halfway point—just in case.
This was a Secret Service ride, and it had bulletproof glass. Gabe had insisted, and they weren’t saying no to that. Elizabeth had warned them that there was still one more Russian spy out there, and she could pop up when she didn’t make her meetup with her friend.
The bottom line was they had a job to do, and that was to get the director home. Plus, Uriel also wanted to get home to his woman.
The last thing he wanted was to be shot in the head.
“We have the Deputy Director of the FBI on board. Clear us,” he said.
The cop nodded and lifted the tape so they could continue up the street.
As they approached, Elizabeth took in the scene.
It was a big, brick church.
From the outside, it looked like a million other churches.
Oh, she knew a church. She spent a lot of time in them as a child. Her mother had been devout.
They went to church mass a few times a week. Back then, Catherine had been praying for her soul, her child’s, and her husband’s.
As she took it all in, she saw it.
The stained-glass window was pretty, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love them. They always made her feel peaceful.
Her mom would always point out the prettiest windows.
It was funny how that memory stuck, but so many with her mother were now gone.
Time was no one’s friend.
Her mother had been dead for forty years now, and it felt like it, too.
Elizabeth’s parents were on her mind today, and she hoped they’d be with her so she could make it home to her own kids at some point.
She needed all the help she could get. So, she said a prayer, hoping for divine intervention.
‘God, give me the wisdom to see through this nightmare, and help me get to the other side. He’s a tough opponent, but show me what he’s leaving me.
I don’t want to die. Not yet. Help me save the countless people he plans on killing or has already killed.
Allow me to find the strength to play this game and come out the winner. Amen.’
As soon as she was done, she was ready to go.
“This scene will definitely be tied to Devon,” she stated. “Resurrection,” she added, pointing at the window. “Three days later.”
Her brain was going a mile a minute, trying to process what she was seeing.
As she hoped, she missed nothing.
Every single thing that he left would be a clue, and she knew it. Devon Slater liked playing a game, littering the playing field with easter eggs for her to pick through.
He was one mindfuck away from being in a looney bin himself.
That.
Was.
For.
Sure.
As they got out, she had her aviator shades on, and she was ready to get to work.
Dex was heading her way, and he wasn’t smiling.
Well, no shock there.
No one liked when a sicko invaded their community and raised hell.