by Dee Davis
Alexis closed her eyes, thinking that her mother’s words had been prophetic. She’d died two days later. Her heart twisted as she considered all her mother had lost. She’d been unhappy—Alexis could see that now. And she could understand how hard it must have been to give up her life to go underground. But surely that wasn’t an excuse for breaking her marriage vows.
With a sigh she opened her eyes again. Life was complicated. And no matter what had happened between her parents and George, Tucker had been right. Her mother had loved her and her brother. Enough to give up the chance at real happiness. And despite her anger over her mother’s affair, there was comfort in that.
She reached down to close the book, her finger catching on the bottom of the final page. Frowning, she bent down to examine it more closely, realizing that the page had been folded under, the corner stuck in the cover’s lining. Over time the two had bonded together, so that they appeared to be one and the same. Using her finger, she carefully pried it free, and then straightened the page. There was another entry, the writing hidden by the fold.
There’s hope, her mother wrote. I hardly dare to write it. But George says he’s found a way out. An insurance policy. Something to guarantee that Randolph will let us go—with the children.
Alexis’s hands were shaking, heart pounding. The insurance—it had to be the formula. It was the only thing that would have stopped her father cold. She smoothed the page, frowning down at the faded handwriting of the last sentence.
For safekeeping, he’s left it with Mary. He knows she’s my favorite. It won’t be long now. Soon. Soon. I’ll be free.
Mary? Alexis tried to think of someone they’d known by that name. But there was no one. At least not that she’d been aware of.
Mary.
She shook her head, trying to make sense of her mother’s words. Then suddenly she knew.
The one place her father would never think to look. And by pure serendipity, one of the few things of her mother’s that had survived the explosion. Grabbing her backpack, she checked for the Mary Stewart book, running her hand over its worn cover. Mary. Her mother’s favorite.
With shaking hands, she opened the book.
CHAPTER 27
You need to turn right on Old Bridge Road,” Harrison said, his voice crackling into Tucker’s headset.
Harrison had located the Nissan via satellite, and Tucker and Drake had decided to try to intercept. They’d been on the road for almost an hour now, so far with no results. But, at least according to Harrison and his celestial view, the car had finally come to a stop in the small town of Mill Valley. Once a thriving industrial hub, the village was now made up primarily of abandoned factories and warehouses.
They were currently driving along the river. Dilapidated red brick buildings lined the waterfront, their turn-of-the-century smokestacks long idle.
“You should be coming up on it now. Do you see it?”
“Roger that,” Drake said, making the turn and leaving the river for a rutted road leading between two old factories. “How much farther?”
“Just another block or so. Looks like he’s parked behind a warehouse. According to the map, it should be marked Jackson Road. But there’s no telling if there’s still a sign. I’ve got you on-screen, though, so I’ll tell you when you’re there.”
“Gotta love modern technology,” Tucker said, his eyes peeled for a street sign indicating the turnoff. “Any word from the hospital?”
“Annie was in here a few minutes ago,” his friend said. “When she left, Alexis was in Madeline’s room reading her mother’s journal. Madeline was sleeping.”
“Is Annie heading back over there?” Drake asked, his voice laced with worry.
“No. She has to take Adam to baseball practice, but Hannah’s there now. And the guards are still on duty. So don’t worry, they’re fine. Just concentrate on finding Baker.”
“They really are going to be okay,” Tucker said, his gaze meeting his brother’s.
“I know.” Drake nodded. “I just worry. This all seems a little too easy.”
“Well, everyone makes mistakes sooner or later. So let’s just hope this is Baker’s turn.”
“Should be there,” Harrison’s voice piped into his earpiece. “Can you see the turnoff?”
“There.” Tucker pointed as Drake slowed the car.
“The Nissan’s parked beside the warehouse, on the south side just inside a gated fence. Maybe a hundred yards,” Harrison said. “There’s a second entrance on the north side. Now remember, you’re just there to scope things out. Please don’t go all cowboy or Avery will have my head.”
Drake and Tucker exchanged glances. “No worries, dude.” Drake smiled across at his brother. “We’ll take it slow.”
“I’m not sure that’s the assurance I was looking for, but I guess it’ll have to do,” Harrison groused.
“So, any other intel?” Tucker asked as they slowed to a roll, moving onto the outskirts of what had once been a parking lot.
“Couldn’t get a blueprint of the place. It’s been out of commission too long, but I’ve sent an annotated aerial shot to your phones so you can get an overview.”
Tucker flipped on the phone to confirm that he had the picture. “Got it. What about infrared?”
“It’s a no-go there, I’m afraid,” Harrison told him. “I couldn’t get a firm read. I don’t know if it’s the satellite or if it’s the warehouse. Some of these old buildings are pretty good at shielding. But either way, I can’t tell for sure whether he’s inside. Or if he’s got company. But from what I can see, there aren’t any other cars. Which would tend to support his being in there on his own.”
“All right, then. We’ll take it from here.”
“Stay on this channel,” Harrison requested. “So at least I can monitor the situation.”
“Quit worrying. Avery is going to be fine with us being here,” Tucker said, not completely certain he was telling the truth. They hadn’t wanted to waste time tracking Avery down to advise him of their plans and had convinced Harrison to go along with their solo mission, promising to wait for backup before taking any action.
Of course, some promises were meant to be broken.
“Well, I’m the new guy, remember? So it’s better for me not to piss off the boss.”
“Actually, Simon is the new guy,” Drake corrected. “Which means you’re off the hook. So chill.”
“Good point,” Harrison assented, his tone like an audible shrug, “Okay, then. Off you go. Best we go radio silent in case they’re scanning. But I’ll be able to hear you if there’s trouble.”
“Copy that,” Tucker acknowledged, flipping his earpiece to silent mode.
“I think I can see movement inside,” Drake said, lowering the field glasses he’d been using to scope out the building. “But we’re going to have to get closer to see for sure.” He put down the binoculars, adjusted his own earpiece, and then picked up his gun, checking the magazine and loading extra ammo into the pocket of his Kevlar vest.
“Let’s go.” Tucker checked his weapon too and then got out of the car, careful to stay low to avoid any watchful eyes. Drake followed as they moved across the edge of the parking lot toward the warehouse, using trees for cover.
Once part of a grand complex, the warehouse had two stories. Large casement windows ran the length of the structure on the second floor, the glass long gone. An old, twisted oak at one end of the building had grown through the windows, a large branch emerging from what must have been a hole in the roof, making it look as though tree and building had merged into one entity. Ivy grew untended everywhere, so overgrown in places that it had begun to erode the walls, bits of masonry dotting the broken walkway that circled the warehouse.
“I think it’ll be easier to check the place out if we split up,” Drake said as they came to a stop under the shelter of the oak at the corner of the building. “You head for the door by the Nissan, and I’ll circle around to the other entrance to the so
uth. According to photos Harrison sent, there aren’t any windows on the east side. So after scoping things out, we’ll meet there to regroup.”
“In what—fifteen minutes?” Tucker asked, looking down at his watch.
“Mark that.” Drake nodded.
“All right, see you then,” Tucker said. “But keep your com on the emergency channel.”
“Will do,” his brother agreed, tapping his ear. “Be careful out there. I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”
“Roger that.” Tucker grinned, then turned his attention to the far right side of the warehouse and the fence that enclosed the Nissan. Using the undergrowth to shield him, he made his way past the abandoned bay doors that had originally opened to train cars and then trucks to offload their cargo. Through years of disuse, most of them were rusted shut now and at least partially obliterated by the ropelike vines of ivy.
He approached the fence cautiously, the chain link about seven feet high and topped with a spiral of barbed wire. He could see the Nissan inside now, parked catty-corner in front of a short flight of steps that led to a wooden landing and an open door. There was still no sign of activity. And no additional cars. Which could mean that Baker, if it really was him, was on his own. But the whole thing could easily be a setup, too.
Ignoring the invitation of the open door at the top of the stairs, Tucker skirted the enclosure and the Nissan, choosing instead a regular-sized door cut into one of the bays just beyond it. There was a small window at the top, and after wiping it down with his sleeve, he took a quick look inside.
The warehouse was shadowed, the morning light penetrating only as scattered beams across the floor. The cavernous room was mostly empty, a few abandoned crates here and there, as well as piles of debris from the collapsing roof above. The second floor consisted of a balcony-like structure running around the room on three sides, the flooring there composed of rusted metal grating.
A staircase made of the same material ascended from the far corner. Two doorways opened off the east side of the room, probably leading to what had once been company offices. One door was rotted and hanging off its hinges. The second, however, was new—and padlocked.
Tucker started to pull his scope from his pocket for a closer look, but just as his fingers were circling it, something moved in his periphery vision. Something inside, at the other end of the warehouse. He shifted so that he was better concealed by a fall of ivy and waited, eyes narrowed as he peered through the window into the shadows.
For a moment he thought he’d made a mistake, and then a man stepped from behind a pillar into one of the beams of sunlight. Harrison had dug up an old employment photo of Baker, and Tucker had seen the childhood photo that Alexis carried in her backpack, not to mention the ones at George’s cabin. And even though the man in the warehouse was older, there was no mistaking him. Hell, he’d have known the man even without the corroborating pictures. Alexis had inheirited his nose and eyes.
Tucker tapped his earpiece, whispering into the com. “Drake, are you there?” Static filled his ear. “Drake?” Frowning, he switched the channel, taking the risk of reception going wide. “Drake, are you there? Harrison, can you hear me?”
The static rose to an uncomfortable level and then stopped, the com going completely silent.
“Fuck,” Tucker swore under his breath, pulling out the earpiece, his spidey-sense tingling—hell, screaming. He reached for his gun and started to turn back toward the safety of a clump of trees, but he hadn’t made it two feet when something hit him hard upside the head. He swiveled and managed to get off a shot, but it was a Hail-Mary attempt, and as his brain spun into a black void, he had the thought that he’d been right.
The whole damn thing had been a setup.
“Shit,” Harrison said, slamming his hand against the table. “The com’s dead. I’ve lost them.”
“Lost who?” Alexis asked as she walked into the war room, Annie right behind her.
Harrison and Avery turned toward the sound of her voice, Harrison avoiding her gaze.
“Who did you lose?” she repeated, fairly certain she already knew the answer. “Tucker?”
“And Drake.” Avery nodded. “But don’t jump to conclusions. It could just be a communications glitch.” As if to confirm that fact, Harrison started typing furiously while continuing to call both Drake and Tucker’s names.
“Where are they?” she asked, crossing over to them, setting the journal and the backpack on the table.
“Unbeknownst to me, following a lead,” Avery said, shooting an angry glance in Harrison’s direction.
Alexis clenched a fist, her gut roiling as she considered the possibility that something had happened to Drake—or Tucker. “You have to tell me what’s going on. I have the right to know.”
Annie stepped forward, her hand on Alexis’s arm. “She’s got a point, Avery. She’s more than proved her loyalty to the team, and this is her fight, after all. Besides, Tucker would want her in the loop.”
“Yes, but it’s my call,” Avery said, clearly trying to telegraph something to Annie, the action scaring Alexis more than his evasion.
“Come on, Avery,” Alexis begged. “Tell me. Please.”
Avery blew out a breath and opened his hands in surrender. “Fine. Harrison managed to get a lead on the man who we think is the bomber. And Drake and Tucker followed him to a warehouse in Mill Valley.”
“And…” she urged.
“Harrison was monitoring their communication. They’d gone dark, but he could still track them, and, in an emergency, hear them. But now there’s nothing.”
“But you said it could be a communications glitch.”
“It’s not,” Harrison said, swiveling around in his chair to face her. “Someone’s either jammed the system or destroyed their earpieces. Or both.”
Alexis fought against a wave of sheer terror. “So you think they’re—”
“We don’t know anything for sure,” Avery said, his reassuring tone cutting into her rising fear. “We just know there’s a problem. We need to get another team out there as fast as we can.”
“I’m already working on it,” Harrison told them. “Nash and Simon are on their way here now.”
“I’m going with them,” Alexis said, her fingers closing around the handle of her backpack. “I can help.”
“You aren’t trained for this kind of thing.” Avery dismissed her offer. “I need you and Annie back at the hospital. If things have gone south, someone needs to be with Madeline.”
“But Hannah’s there”—Annie frowned—“and you might need my particular set of skills.”
Avery considered the idea, then relented. “All right, fine. You can go. Why don’t you start getting the gear together.”
Annie squeezed Alexis’s arm and then headed for the door and the storage locker beyond. Avery turned his attention back to Harrison, who was still trying to raise Drake and Tucker.
Alexis swallowed, still determined to convince Avery to take her with them. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll just follow you. Don’t you understand? I can’t just sit here and wait.”
“Alexis, we know what we’re doing,” Avery said, his tone brooking no argument. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
She opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again as Harrison raised his hand, signaling for silence.
“I’m getting something,” he said.
“Put it on speaker,” Avery responded.
Alexis held her breath, praying that the next voice she heard would be Tucker’s.
“I have your people,” a man said, and Alexis felt her body go cold and her knees threaten to buckle. She knew that voice. Knew it almost as well as her own. And she’d never thought to hear it again. And certainly not like this.
Avery was beside her in an instant, his big arms keeping her from falling.
“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice too soft to carry over the radio.
“And if you want to see them
again,” the voice continued, like a disembodied spirit from beyond the grave, “you’ll do exactly as I tell you.”
“I’m not in the habit of responding to threats,” Avery said, his arm still around her, “Mr. Baker. It is you I’m talking to?”
“Very good,” her father replied. “I wasn’t certain you’d be able to follow the clues I’d left. But since we’re all on the same page now, you’ll have to admit I’m holding all the cards.”
Alexis scrambled to make sense of what she was hearing. Her dead father was speaking to them, and he had apparently set Tucker up. Questions flooded through her mind, threatening to swamp her, the confusion so overwhelming she wasn’t certain she could breathe.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Avery replied, his voice still calm and assuring as he signaled Harrison to try to triangulate the transmission. “But just for the sake of argument, what is it you want from us?”
“I want my daughter,” he said. “And the formula. Bring them to me, and I’ll let your people go free.”
“I already told you we don’t respond to threats.”
“Bullshit,” her father said. “You do it every damn day. And I can promise you this one isn’t empty. I’ll kill them both if you don’t produce Lexie and the formula within the hour.”
Lexie. Her head started to spin again. No one had called her that since the night her family—correction, her mother and brother—had died. “Dad?” she called, this time loud enough to be heard.
“Lexie? Is that you?”
“I’m here. And I’m asking you to let them go. Let Tucker and Drake go. This isn’t about them. They were only trying to help me.”
“Help you betray me.” His voice was sharp, his rebuke slamming her with physical pain.
Avery motioned for her to keep talking, and she fought to maintain control.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You took the formula. You stole it from me.” There was an obsessive note in his voice she’d never heard before.
“I didn’t. I was just a kid. How would I have even known it existed?”
