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He took out his cell to see if he’d missed a message from Starr. There was nothing, although by his estimation, they’d been inside for ten minutes. Reese walked ahead of him, reaching for another door. The lights inside were bare bulbs. No public allowed here. A large gleaming vessel stood just in the center of the room, full of dials and knobs on the visible portal, which was standing open. A tangle of pipes and hoses ran to the nearby wall. An empty hydraulic stretcher stood before it. Metal shelves lined the space. His brows rose at the amount of potassium hydroxide stored there, obviously to supply the alkali process.
Green energy or not, the view wasn’t comforting.
The space next door held two large furnaces for cremation. He heard a trickle of water. The front lobby was beyond the short hallway to their right, with an ornate fountain featured prominently. Light spilled out of the half-open door to the right of it.
Ignoring it for the time being, he led her past the hall to the garage. It was dark, but he could make out four hearses and a couple of large SUVs. He had Reese stay put while he searched the area before rejoining her, returning to the illuminated room off the lobby. The large space was empty, save for a couple of couches, several easy chairs, and a long table.
“Kervin?” Reese called.
“Yeah” came a muffled reply. But the sound emanated from a door across the hallway. “Be right out.” The response was partially lost as a toilet flushed.
“I’m going to go check on Starr.” Maybe he was on the phone with Mendes. “You can come with me. We’ll be right back.”
“This will only take a few minutes. He’ll probably text you before you get there. Go on. I just want to finish this.”
He hesitated. But they’d been through the whole damn place on their way to the front and found evidence of only one person inside. A second flush sounded. “Call my number.”
“What?”
“I want you on the phone with me while I go out to talk to the officer.”
The sounds of a running faucet drifted to them. Then a noise he identified as a paper towel dispenser. She quickly took out her cell and called Hayes. He connected and nodded to her. “I’ll be right back.”
Hayes reached the rear door and pushed it open. There was just enough light offered by the security lamps to see the outline of the cruiser. As he neared it, he saw the window was still down. Starr was a shadow, hunched in his seat as if looking at his phone. Hayes’s pace slowed. Something about the scene had his instincts screaming. He pulled his weapon, leveling it as he scanned the dark lot. It remained the same as when they pulled in. Three vehicles. No sign of life.
Cautiously, he did a complete circle around the officer’s car, ending up at the open window. “Nolan.” He nudged at the man with the hand he held the cell in. If he’d been on his phone, there was no sign of it. “Hey.” When he tried to shake the officer, Starr fell limply toward the console.
“Reese,” he barked into the phone. “Get out of there! Right now!”
He shoved the cell into his pocket and grabbed for the door handle. Something stung his back. An electrical current quickly followed. The jolt had him falling against the car door, his body convulsing. Pain radiated down his shoulder. Danced along nerve endings. Hayes tried to lift his weapon. His arm wouldn’t obey. Instead of tightening, his fingers loosened around it. Seconds later the current stopped. He sagged against the vehicle, struggling to stay upright, his breathing still choppy.
“Reese.” He wanted to yell. Could barely manage a croak. “Run.”
There was a sound behind him. He tried to look over his shoulder. Couldn’t.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to be doing any running around here.” Another current hit him, and he cursed, a broken fragment of half-words. “Certainly not you.”
Hayes felt his legs going. Managed to stay on his feet by catching his elbow on the ledge of the lowered window.
“And the officer? He’s got most of a vial of GHB in him. Stupid fuck. He probably won’t make it, but I did save a little for you.” As if they no longer took orders from him, Hayes’s knees gave out. He fell heavily to them. “At least for a while. You’ll have a front-row seat to that bothersome little bitch’s final moments.”
His brain was fogged, making it difficult to decipher the words. He could feel the weapon being taken from his hand. His cell was slipped from his pocket. Something snapped around his wrist. His arm yanked upward. Another click sounded before he felt a prick on his neck.
“You just wait here. I’ll be back.”
36
Reese paced impatiently in the front room. She remembered being shown to a similar space when she’d made Julia’s arrangements. The large vase of fake flowers, the scattered fancy urns, small metal sculptures, and overstuffed furniture could have been chosen from the same designer. Her flesh prickled at the recollection, and she rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled despite her sweater. She heard a noise outside the room and whirled to face the entrance. Kervin. At last.
But the man who walked through the door, though familiar, wasn’t the one she expected. “What are you doing here?” She’d seen him only once at Greenley’s firm. The assistant. Blake Chen.
He stepped inside the space. “I came to see a buddy of mine. Why are you here? I thought Detective Usher had you locked up.”
“Apparently, you were wrong.” When he approached, she moved to maintain the distance between them. Something was off. Chen’s presence made no sense, like one of those children’s pictures where you had to find the items out of place. Reese scanned the room. There was a second doorway deeper in thespace, but she couldn’t be sure where it led. She still had her phone clutched in her hand. She brought it to her lips now to alert Hayes.
And heard his voice saying, “Reese! Get out of there! Right now!”
“Hayes, what’s wrong? Hayes?” But she could hear nothing further. Panic streaked up her spine. Chen blocked the entry, a tiny, satisfied smile on his lips. He wore jeans, high-top sneakers, and a black tee, a far cry from his more formal garb the last time they’d met.