When she said she was going to fuck around and find out, she also meant so was he.
The game was definitely afoot.
Bet.
On.
It.
* * * The Blackhawks * * *
Damascus
Same Time
Across The Country
When he woke an hour ago, Devon immediately went to work on the next part of his plan.
By now, Elizabeth was figuring out where he’d left her the next set of clues.
Not people.
Not remains.
CLUES.
In this game, it all came down to how smart she was, and if she could figure it out before he got to one of her loved ones.
When he saw that someone had died on the expressway into DC, his hopes had been up. While he wanted to play a game, if Fate took her out…
Who was he to question it?
Then, word came back that it wasn’t the director, but instead some worthless Marine.
Someone was a cat with nine lives.
That was for damn sure.
Apparently, the Russian had missed.
Well, that was misfortunate.
While he loved playing a game, he wasn’t a fool. His saintly father had warned him about the woman.
In fact, he’d had a profile done of her many years ago. A private therapist who had been paid a lot of money was given her FBI files, thanks to some clever thievery.
That profile said a lot about Elizabeth and little did she know, but that was the foundation on which all of this was based. So far, the doctor had been right with her assessment.
Unfortunately, though, he’d killed her when she’d finished so there were no loose ends, and now, he couldn’t ask her more questions, or to update her profile.
His father also taught him that.
Why risk getting caught?
With that document, he’d been afforded an inside look into the woman’s psyche, and it had been money worth spent.
Her mother’s early death.
