The man just blinked.
“And the clocks?” he asked.
“The six is a hand pointing down at this location, and the three is a hand pointing directionally. What is in that direction, Raphael?” she asked for confirmation.
He looked at his watch with the compass built into it.
“It’s East.”
And DC was East.
Of course, he’d take her back to the city she desperately wished to be in—her home.
The sheriff just shook his head.
“None of this makes sense. A uterus, a cross with no Jesus, a DC plate, two clocks, and because of that, you know where to go?”
Yes.
Because she played games for a living, and he was likely testing her to see if she was up to his caliber of cuckoo.
“It doesn’t need to make sense to you, Sheriff. This is a love letter to me. I know who I’m up against. So, we’ve got to go,” she said. “Hold the scene.”
With that, she walked out, Raphael and Uriel behind her.
“Was that in and out fast enough for you?” she asked, pulling off the gloves to dump them in the trash on her way out the door?”
He laughed.
“I mean, I expected at least an hour. You speed ran that bitch.”
That she did.
Why?
Because it was crystal clear what he was saying.
“I need you to get me back to the plane. I need to do some research because he’s telling us something, and I need to listen before it bites us in the ass.”
The last thing they wanted was to need a rabies shot from some cuckoo rearing up and getting them.
So, neither man questioned it.
Instead, they loaded her back up and headed back to the tarmac, where the jet sat. This had to be the quickest crime scene any of them had seen her handle, and they didn’t exactly hate it, either.
En route, they were safe. Who was going to get her inside a moving car?
As they drove, and the crime scene was in the rearview mirror, she was on her tablet.
“MATE, give meANYTHINGthat’s tied to the wordCorpus Christiin DC.”
As she said her name, MATE appeared beside her to work up close and personal with Elizabeth.
She was wearing a black pantsuit, her hair was pinned up, and she looked like an assistant. That was tame for her, and Elizabeth knew it.
Screw it.
She could do it nude if she wanted. All Elizabeth wanted was to stay ahead of Slater.
