Page 58

CHAPTER 58

G uns in hand, Olive and Jason hurried to the storm shelter. A lock held the doors together. It only took Olive a few seconds to pick it and throw the doors open.

She stared inside the opening.

A set of winding metal steps led down a dark stairway.

She had a feeling nothing good happened down here.

“Let me go first,” Jason said.

Though Olive was officially the investigator in this case, she appreciated his gallant offer. She didn’t argue with him. Jason knew what he was doing also.

As he took the first step, dim lights flickered on overhead. Clearly, they were activated by motion.

Olive followed behind him, closing the doors as she did.

When she reached the bottom, she expected to see a rustic old storm cellar.

She should have known better.

More dim lights buzzed overhead, illuminating the transformed space.

The floor was polished concrete. The walls had been painted a light gray. Numerous computers were set up on tables around the perimeter.

“What is this place?” Jason murmured as he shoved his gun back into the holster.

Olive’s gaze focused on the computer screens in front of them.

A live feed from Rebecca and Matt’s house played.

The couple stood in their living room, appearing to argue about something.

Olive felt intrusive watching them.

Yet at the same time she couldn’t pull her gaze away.

“I almost wish I could hear what they’re arguing about,” Olive muttered as she stared at the screen.

Jason stepped closer to the computers and nudged the mouse.

A second later, voices came through the speakers.

Guilt flooded Olive a moment, but she tried to ignore it.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Matt said.

“We have no choice at this point. We’re in too deep.”

Matt dropped onto the couch. “I’m exhausted. And paranoid all the time. I can’t continue to live this lie!”

So they actually had a guilty conscience about this.

Rebecca, however, didn’t seem ready to give up.

“It is what it is,” Rebecca murmured before stomping from the room.

As she watched, a different idea began to form in Olive’s mind.

What if she’d been looking at this wrong all along? At least, what if she’d been looking at most of this wrong? She wasn’t ready to voice any of her theories out loud. They needed more time to simmer.

The problem was she still needed to prove what was going on.

At least, proving Rebecca was faking it was what Olive thought she needed to do from the start.

The truth was, she didn’t have to prove it . . . if Rebecca and Matt simply owned up to what they were doing.

But how would she get them to do that?

Jason muted the volume again and then stepped closer to her. “We should probably get going.”

Olive glanced at the time. It was only smart to get out of here, especially since that guy said he would be coming back.

But as she glanced around again, she noticed a door in the corner. It appeared to be metal, and the marks on the floor indicated it had recently been opened.

She nodded toward it. “I want to check that out before we leave.”

She crept toward it, still holding her gun, just in case.

Carefully, she jerked it open.

As she did, a terrible scent hit her.

The scent of death.

Jason shone his light into the space.

A dead woman wearing scrubs stared back at them, and Olive instinctively knew it was Anne, the missing nurse Mitzi had tried to get in contact with.