En Route
Jeffrey’s Home
Tuesday
One P.M.
As Ivan drove, Elizabeth sat in the vehicle with Ethan, scanning all of the information that Corbin had sent over to her. She now knew all about Jeffrey’s mother, and where she’d been laid to rest.
With the information coming in, there was no doubt in her mind that the person behind this laid these tracks years before.
“We’re going to have to get her exhumed,” Elizabeth said. “I’m going to ask Jeffrey for his permission, but I don’t think he’ll do it.”
Ethan was to the point.
“He won’t. This person handpicked this situation,” he admitted. “He knew from studying Jeffrey and his mother, that it would be problematic for you. The man will fight it, slowing you down. Every obstacle you’ve hit was to do just that.”
She tapped her leg with her fingers.
“I already don’t like this game,” she admitted.
Oh, he wasn’t shocked.
He wasn’t a fan either.
Seriously, he knew this was going to come down to a one-on-one fight to the death, and he hated that his wife was going to be pulled into it.
It was clear this person was relentless, and like no one she’d ever battled before.
“Lyzee, my love, he’s dangerous,” he admitted. “He’s going to mind fuck you. He’s going to figure out your fears, your worries, and he’s going to twist them into nightmares.”
Well, no shock there.
“Why?” he asked.
He wasn’t sure of that.
YET.
But he could take an educated guess.
“He admires and hates you. He is afraid but in awe of you. You’ve become his poster child for adversary, and he’s going to want to rattle this cage and win. Clearly, he’s heard about you for a very long time, and you’re his goal to beat.”
She hated that.
In her youth, she had very little to lose. It was just her and Chris, and she could keep him safe. Now, she had a big circle, and it could blow up spectacularly.
And she knew it.
“What can you give me on him?” she asked.
“That he’s watched you a while, and that The Grave Robber likes his name. He would have been in his glory when the media called him that. Use that to control the narrative. When he comes at you, be ready for a personal attack.”
Yeah, one-on-one, she could do. Even at fifty, she was in her best personal shape. One-on-one, she could kick ass, but if this person hid and struck at her family, it would take her down.
Gene put his hand on her thigh.
“Maybe we need to figure out a more permanent solution,” she stated.
