Page 14

Chapter Nine

“ T his is where they live?” Jax stepped into the retirement home’s main building beside her.

She took in the décor of the lobby with its vaulted ceiling.

The whole place had a hospital vibe, and the plants looked fake.

Some facilities opted for the log cabin décor, which was preferable to this one that looked like it was for colonoscopies and asking invasive questions.

But it was a toss-up as to which of those activities was worse.

Kenna shivered. “This place reminds me of a rehab facility I stayed in just outside of Reno.”

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 by Dominatus , 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 read Sigil pinned 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.”

Jax put his hand on the small of her back. “I love mini golf as well. We’ll have to visit dear old dad and play a few rounds. Keep him company.”

Bruce entered a white gate about waist height surrounded by a picket fence. Inside was a pool area, but there was no water in the pool. “Not sure this’ll do.”

Sigil said, “Our pool is currently being refurbished and upgraded. It should all be completed in just a few months to create a state-of-the-art facility for water recreation, therapy, and entertainment.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Tur?—”

Kenna took his arm and led him on. “I’m glad you like the place so far, Dad . I think you could be happy here.”

She hurried him through the rest of the tour, though she tried not to make it look obvious. He insisted on inspecting the cabin bathroom so he could check out the “john” he’d be using. Then they circled back through the main hall.

Most of the residents were in there eating lunch. Bruce yelled, “Stuart!” across the room and scurried away, apparently noticing someone he knew. Maybe? He ended up in the meal line with a tray, so he was probably just hungry.

“Your father will be well taken care of here.” Sigil still hugged his clipboard. “If the two of you would like to meet with the manager while your father-in-law is enjoying a meal?”

She wanted to scan every face in the meeting hall herself and try to find the collection of five older men who were supposedly other victims of the doctor who’d messed with her.

She’d seen photos of them from years ago, but didn’t know their real names.

However, Bruce could more seamlessly mingle with the residents, and his spy skills would come in handy.

He was supposed to tell them afterward if those men were here, and then they’d figure out how to talk to them.

For now, they had to finish out the ruse before they could leave.

Sigil took them to the main building and a rear office on the ground floor. “The manager will be right with you.” He pointed to a sideboard. “Help yourself to beverages from the fridge.”

“Thank you,” Jax said.

After Sigil shut the door, she said, “Now I’m hungry. I bet Bruce won’t bring me anything from lunch.”

“Maybe he’ll put a pudding cup in his pocket for you.”

“I can hope.”

Jax chuckled, sliding his arms around her waist and nuzzling her nose. “Are all your operations based around access to food?”

“No.” She tipped her head to the side to think about that. “Maybe.”

He let go of her. “I’m going to see what’s in the fridge.”

She sighed, looking around at this office. “There’s nothing on the walls except this weird print that looks like it came from a doctor’s office in the nineties.”

“This whole place is a total throwback.” He crouched in front of the fridge.

“Don’t people usually put their college diploma on the wall? Or personal stuff on their desk?” She walked around the desk and crouched. “There isn’t even a computer. The monitor has a cord that just hangs down under the desk.”

“Everything in this fridge is frozen, like it was left in here with the thermostat turned far too cold.” He straightened, frowning.

“This is supposed to be us pulling one over on this retirement home.” She set her hands on her hips. “Why does it seem like this isn’t what it seems?”

Jax looked around, then pulled out his phone. He frowned. “I have no signal.”

Kenna didn’t bother checking if she had any. She went to the door instead and discovered it was… “Locked.” She glanced at Jax. “Why is the door locked?”

The handle tingled. It took her a second to figure out what was happening, and she got her hand away a second before a spark arced between her skin and the door handle. She hissed. “Ouch. That stung.”

“We’re locked in?”

“And the door is electrified.” She shook her head. “I guess there could be some kind of electrical problem in here. But it seems far more sinister.”

“Look for another way out, but be careful what you touch.”

Kenna nodded, wandering the room. File cabinet beside another file cabinet. No window. A single door.

She turned around.

Jax had his head under the desk. “There’s something down here.” His body jerked, and he bumped his head on the underside of the desk. “Ouch.” He backed up and stood. “It was a spider.” His cheeks had pinked.

“I’ll kill it for you if you want.”

He chuckled. “It’s already dead. Did you find anything?”

Rather than saying no, she said, “Maybe.” And turned away, only to hear him chuckle.

“Whatever it is, I’ll kill it for you.”

Kenna grinned to herself, looking back at the file cabinets. She opened a drawer, but there was nothing in it or in any of the others. She grabbed the top corners and muscled it over, wiggling it on the corners and fighting the drawers when they slid toward her.

“Huh.” Jax grabbed the cabinet and shifted it a little more. “We need to move the other as well.”

“It’s just a panel. It might be nothing.”

“You’re more curious than that.”

Kenna shook her head. “Didn’t curiosity kill the cat?”

“Jolene will be fine. If we can get out, we’re going in.”

“Assuming there’s an in to go to.” She pushed on the panel and found it slid to one side.

About three by three feet. She climbed in because she spotted a wooden set of stairs.

She flipped on her camera flashlight. The stairs ended at a closed door several feet below.

When she looked back at Jax, he had his gun out.

“I’ll go first,” he said.

“My hero.”

Jax kissed her. “I know you’re joking, but I don’t care. I go first.”

“Is this one of those macho, protective guy things?”

“Yes.”

“As long as you give me some of your fries, I guess it evens out in the end.”

“Glad you agree.”

She admired the breadth of his shoulders in the light of her flashlight while making her way down behind him. Getting a little distracted. But he was her husband. There could be a million ways that might go wrong. Anything could happen to either of them. Health scares. Bad guys. Accidents.

She could choke on a peanut tomorrow and croak.

No one knew what the future held. Unless she suddenly developed precognition or clairvoyance—or whatever word meant she could see the future—as a new ability along with the strength she seemed to have. That could be cool. But it could also feel like a curse.

A terrible gift.

Better to trust the Lord with the future she wanted, which included the man God had given her.

He hesitated at the bottom, reaching for the handle. “Just locked.” He let go. “Not…whatever happened upstairs.”

“It felt like it was electrified.” She touched his shoulder, eased by him, and tried herself. “I guess we could go back upstairs and try to break the door down somehow. Get out that way.”

“Sure, but this is date day, and you’re treating me to the full Kenna-on-a-case special.”

She grinned. “Glad I amuse you.”

“I like seeing you do your thing.”

A sarcastic comment bubbled up, but she pushed it down. This might not work, and then she’d look like a fool. So, she said nothing and backed up a step. Slammed her shoulder into the door and snapped it free of the frame and the lock holding it shut.

The door splintered.

“Yeah, like that.”

Kenna was focused too intently on the room beyond the door to make a snarky comment back. There was plenty of time for the two of them to banter. “See if you can find a light switch.”

“One that isn’t going to shock me?”

She couldn’t resist saying, “If you’re lucky, I’ll shock you later.”

He chuckled. “Shine your light around. Make sure there’s no one in here and nothing dangerous.” Another light flipped on behind her. “I see a light switch.”

“We’re clear.”

He flipped it on. She scanned the room, then tapped off her light. He still had his gun out.

Not that he’d need it in this empty room.

It was a living area with a kitchenette to the right. An ancient tiny TV set that was probably black and white. Aging couch with threadbare arms. Recliner, in a similar condition. Coffee table. All of it looked like the set of an old nineteen fifties TV show.

“This looks like…” She couldn’t put her finger on it.

“A nuclear shelter.”

“Right. One of those that was built in the fifties during the Cold War. Everyone thought they could stockpile cans and survive the fallout if they just stayed inside long enough.” She’d seen a documentary about one once.

“Under the retirement home.”

“I mean…maybe they didn’t even know it was down here. Maybe they never moved those cabinets, and if someone knew, they forgot all about it.” Kenna shrugged.

And then, the TV flickered to life.

Went black.

Green letters appeared on it. So small that Kenna had to go over to it in order to read what it said. There’s no cure for what you are.

Behind her, metal slid into place.

“The door is blocked. It’s just a sheet of steel.” Fear laced Jax’s tone.

Kenna pulled her hand back and punched the TV screen.