Page 30
Story: One More Chance
He looked at her.
“After what happened in Salt Lake City, the first time, my arms needed physical therapy, and it meant being an inpatient.”
He gave her a soft smile, then his attention shifted over her shoulder. “Come on, Dad. The nice people are waiting.”
She glanced back, trying not to grin, and spotted Bruce.
The buttons of his shirt were offset, misaligned so one side hung lower than the other. A Hawaiian shirt—not something all that unusual for him to be wearing—but the amount of hairy chest he showed was different. That, and the gold chain around his neck.
He wore linen pants and loafers with no socks. She bit her lip to keep from smiling and headed toward the desk at the far end. The cheesy knickknacks on top made it seem as if this was a budget hotel mixed with a medical facility. She said quietly to Jax, “This place doesn’t know what it’s trying to be.”
“All five of them are registered as living here, according to Maizie. But the names are so generic they’re all clearly fake names.”
They’d driven over from the lawyer’s office because why waste time when there were leads to work and missing people to find? The two disappearances probably weren’t connected, but it was possible. After all, they could have been targeted because of her. She was the thing that connected them to this Doctor Marcus Buzard.
After they’d called Bruce and explained the plan, and gotten him to agree to meet them here, Jax had ranted for a while in the car about what he wanted to do when he got his hands on the doctor. She’d told him that meant he should get his FBI people on it, but he didn’t want to put any of his agents or analysts on a personal problem. Even one with such a potentially wide-reaching impact.
This was a problem the whole world faced, even if most of the people on the planet had no idea that a secret organization sought to direct people’s lives. Countries. Businesses.
The moment Jax got official FBI people on the case, it would get flagged byDominatus, and their enemy would know exactly how close they were to uncovering the truth.
And taking them down.
“How can I help you?” The guy behind the desk wore khaki slacks and a white shirt with a bow tie. He had a name tag that readSigilpinned to his shirt.
Jax said, “Mr. and Mrs. Watson. We have an appointment for a tour.” He motioned to Bruce. “This is Mr. Abrams, my father-in-law. We’re looking for a long-term care facility for him and his wife.”
They’d explained to Bruce that he didn’t need to act senile or combative about the prospect of moving to a care home. But she wouldn’t put it past him to come up with an act so he could stomp around a bit and draw attention to himself. He probably figured that meant people would pay less attention to Kenna and Jax.
“Of course.” He lifted a clipboard from the desk beside the ancient desktop computer and walked to the end of the counter. “I’ll give you a quick tour, then you have a meeting scheduled with our general manager, and at the end, we can take care of any pesky paperwork.”
“Great.” Kenna smiled. “I’ve never liked that official stuff, anyway.”
They followed him down the hall, and Bruce squeezed between Kenna and Jax to walk right behind Sigil. “Does this place have bingo? What about trivia night?”
The employee hugged his clipboard. “We have plenty of amenities as well as a full calendar of activities for you to enjoy during your stay here.”
“Oh,” Bruce said. “Well, I don’t want to be busy all the time. And will those things be loud? I need my beauty sleep ’cause if I’m real tired, I have nightmares about the time I spent locked up in a French prison. They don’t treat you very well in those places. Not that there aren’t worse ones. Now Russia? Boy, that gulag is a bad piece of?—”
Kenna cleared her throat.
“Sorry. Forgot I’m not supposed to talk about all that ‘classified’ stuff now. I’m losing my marbles.” He hissed. “My bad. Isn’t that what the kids say these days?”
Jax choked on a laugh.
Kenna nearly slapped them both up the backside of the head.
Sigil looked like he saw the need for some damage control. “While we have residential rooms inside the main building here, we also have a number of cabins in the outlying areas of the property where we invite any guests who need a little more…space to reside. The activities and amenities are available to anyone, as much—or as little—as they’d like.”
“Good, ’cause I’m feelin’ some mini golf.” He slapped Sigil on the shoulder.
“We do have mini golf.” Sigil coughed.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Turkey!”
Sigil pushed out the door, and Bruce followed. The employee looked at them as they exited, so she couldn’t make a face at Jax and wordlessly communicate how ridiculous Bruce was. Though, admittedly, the guy seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. And he was entertaining.
She smiled politely at Sigil. “Thank you.”
“After what happened in Salt Lake City, the first time, my arms needed physical therapy, and it meant being an inpatient.”
He gave her a soft smile, then his attention shifted over her shoulder. “Come on, Dad. The nice people are waiting.”
She glanced back, trying not to grin, and spotted Bruce.
The buttons of his shirt were offset, misaligned so one side hung lower than the other. A Hawaiian shirt—not something all that unusual for him to be wearing—but the amount of hairy chest he showed was different. That, and the gold chain around his neck.
He wore linen pants and loafers with no socks. She bit her lip to keep from smiling and headed toward the desk at the far end. The cheesy knickknacks on top made it seem as if this was a budget hotel mixed with a medical facility. She said quietly to Jax, “This place doesn’t know what it’s trying to be.”
“All five of them are registered as living here, according to Maizie. But the names are so generic they’re all clearly fake names.”
They’d driven over from the lawyer’s office because why waste time when there were leads to work and missing people to find? The two disappearances probably weren’t connected, but it was possible. After all, they could have been targeted because of her. She was the thing that connected them to this Doctor Marcus Buzard.
After they’d called Bruce and explained the plan, and gotten him to agree to meet them here, Jax had ranted for a while in the car about what he wanted to do when he got his hands on the doctor. She’d told him that meant he should get his FBI people on it, but he didn’t want to put any of his agents or analysts on a personal problem. Even one with such a potentially wide-reaching impact.
This was a problem the whole world faced, even if most of the people on the planet had no idea that a secret organization sought to direct people’s lives. Countries. Businesses.
The moment Jax got official FBI people on the case, it would get flagged byDominatus, and their enemy would know exactly how close they were to uncovering the truth.
And taking them down.
“How can I help you?” The guy behind the desk wore khaki slacks and a white shirt with a bow tie. He had a name tag that readSigilpinned to his shirt.
Jax said, “Mr. and Mrs. Watson. We have an appointment for a tour.” He motioned to Bruce. “This is Mr. Abrams, my father-in-law. We’re looking for a long-term care facility for him and his wife.”
They’d explained to Bruce that he didn’t need to act senile or combative about the prospect of moving to a care home. But she wouldn’t put it past him to come up with an act so he could stomp around a bit and draw attention to himself. He probably figured that meant people would pay less attention to Kenna and Jax.
“Of course.” He lifted a clipboard from the desk beside the ancient desktop computer and walked to the end of the counter. “I’ll give you a quick tour, then you have a meeting scheduled with our general manager, and at the end, we can take care of any pesky paperwork.”
“Great.” Kenna smiled. “I’ve never liked that official stuff, anyway.”
They followed him down the hall, and Bruce squeezed between Kenna and Jax to walk right behind Sigil. “Does this place have bingo? What about trivia night?”
The employee hugged his clipboard. “We have plenty of amenities as well as a full calendar of activities for you to enjoy during your stay here.”
“Oh,” Bruce said. “Well, I don’t want to be busy all the time. And will those things be loud? I need my beauty sleep ’cause if I’m real tired, I have nightmares about the time I spent locked up in a French prison. They don’t treat you very well in those places. Not that there aren’t worse ones. Now Russia? Boy, that gulag is a bad piece of?—”
Kenna cleared her throat.
“Sorry. Forgot I’m not supposed to talk about all that ‘classified’ stuff now. I’m losing my marbles.” He hissed. “My bad. Isn’t that what the kids say these days?”
Jax choked on a laugh.
Kenna nearly slapped them both up the backside of the head.
Sigil looked like he saw the need for some damage control. “While we have residential rooms inside the main building here, we also have a number of cabins in the outlying areas of the property where we invite any guests who need a little more…space to reside. The activities and amenities are available to anyone, as much—or as little—as they’d like.”
“Good, ’cause I’m feelin’ some mini golf.” He slapped Sigil on the shoulder.
“We do have mini golf.” Sigil coughed.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Turkey!”
Sigil pushed out the door, and Bruce followed. The employee looked at them as they exited, so she couldn’t make a face at Jax and wordlessly communicate how ridiculous Bruce was. Though, admittedly, the guy seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. And he was entertaining.
She smiled politely at Sigil. “Thank you.”
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