Well, great.
So basically, nothing was what it seemed. An idiot savant would have the ability to perfect one aspect of their life—like killing—while appearing to be inept.
DAMN.
How could that go wrong?
She’d sent him off, and at that very moment, he could be watching them. After all, he knew this cemetery inside out, and upside down.
“Or,” Ethan began, “the person behind that knows that, and is fucking with us. Like I said, red herrings. He’s going to plant them all over, watching to see if you can determine which is pertinent and which is to delay and sidetrack you.”
Callen didn’t like that.
“So booby traps?” he asked.
Ethan nodded.
“Yes.”
For Elizabeth, that meant one thing.
Bad.
Shit.
Ethan gave her a hint.
“We need to research everyone and see where it all connects. If we can tie them all to the church, then we’re going to have the hunting ground. You’re standing on it.”
She sighed.
“I love playing in cemeteries and burial grounds,” she stated, sarcastically. “Don’t think that I haven’t noticed that I do that a lot on this side of the country.”
He actually laughed.
“Marry a hot half-Native man, she said. It would be fun, she said,” he teased.
She winked at him.
“Oh, it’s been hella fun, Mr. Blackhawk. Trust and believe that,” she stated. “I made gorgeous babies with you, and your brother, and I had fun doing that.”
He snorted.
“I love you, Elizabeth,” he admitted, but then got serious. “You need to be damn careful. He’s fixated on you now. We have to figure out why the eyes, and why these women. Did they see something? Does he like when they watch? It’s got to be something.”
Callen took a guess.
“Does he like watching them?” he asked. “Maybe from afar? Because if this is Jeffrey Von Gunter, maybe women were afraid of him, and he couldn’t get laid if his life depended on it, so then their lives became the casualty in this.”
That was a good option.
Ethan nodded.
“It could be. It might get him off, or it might make him feel powerful to destroy that sacred rest of death. We’re only on day one. We can’t let him slip away, or we’re going to be playing chase. We don’t like chase,” he reminded them. “Remember the ones who got away, and it took us a while to find again? Lottie Tipton, your brother…?”
Oh, she knew.
She was currently hunting down an attorney whose sperm donor was still in lockup because of her.
