Page 17 of Shattering Dawn
“Oh, yeah.”
“Well, there have to be records. Who’s in charge of them?”
“I don’t know, and neither does Shelton. It was a tiny government agency running a clandestine survey, Amelia. Trust me, no one is going to come forward now and take responsibility.”
She shot to her feet, wineglass in hand, and started pacing the room. “We’ve got to follow up on these new leads while they are hot.”
“I agree.” Gideon shifted a little in an apparent attempt to get more comfortable and watched her stride back and forth in front of the recliner. “I’ve been thinking about that. You and your podcast friends are evidently the uncontrolled variable in the equation. Your experience in Lucent Springs did not go according to someone’s plan and your actions afterward have further destabilized the system. I need to look at the origin point.”
She came to an abrupt halt. “What are you talking about?”
“Sorry. I was thinking out loud. You were right when you said we need to go to Lucent Springs.”
“I saidIneed to go back to Lucent Springs.”
He paid no attention to the small correction.
“I want to take a look at that old hotel,” he said. “Lucent Springs is out in the desert, about a two-hour drive.” He checked his watch. “I’ll spend the rest of the night here. We’ll stop by my place in the morning so that I can change my clothes and pick up a few things, and then we’ll head out.”
Amelia came to a halt in front of the recliner. “How much do you know about Lucent Springs?”
“I listened to a few more of the podcasts this afternoon.”
“I see. Well, that’s good, I guess, but you’re moving awfully fast, considering your current physical condition and your doubts about my story.”
“I’m not moving fast enough. I can hear a clock ticking, Amelia.”
For some reason the cold certainty in his voice unnerved her more than anything else he had said. On the positive side, whatever had happened in the service lane tonight had convinced him she was not delusional and that she really was in danger.
“I can hear that clock, too,” she said. She set the half-finished glass of wine on the kitchen island. “There are some pictures I want to show you. Don’t worry, they aren’t aura or energy photos. I’ll be right back.”
He said nothing but she was aware of him watching her as she walked across the living room and around the corner into the small entryway at the front door. She continued on down the hall to the darkroom.
Opening the door of the former walk-in closet, she flipped thelight switch and went inside. The envelope that contained prints of the photos from the Night Island investigation was on the workbench. She grabbed it and started back toward the door. On impulse she paused, opened a drawer, and picked up the baggie that contained the badly charred hotel room key.
When she returned to the living room, she discovered that Gideon hadn’t moved. He continued to occupy her recliner as if he owned it. It occurred to her that she had no practical means of evicting him from her apartment. She was getting the feeling she was stuck with him, at least for the near future.
“We don’t have a lot of solid leads, but my friends Talia March and Luke Rand returned from Night Island with a few photographs,” she said. “The photographer was a researcher who had a special interest in fungi, so most of the photos are pictures of weird mushrooms, but he also took some shots of the interior of a laboratory on the island. One in particular interests me. I used a computer program to enhance it.”
Gideon took the black-and-white photo without a word and considered the image for a long moment.
“It looks like the corner of a box of laboratory chemicals or medication,” he said.
“We—my friends and I—think it might be a box that contained the drugs that were used in some of the experiments.”
She waited, wondering if he would question the conclusion.
“I can make out three letters on the side,” he said. “ ‘Aur.’ ”
“Yes,” she said. At least he wasn’t dismissing the small bit of evidence. “We’re hoping those are the first three letters of the name of the firm that shipped the drugs to Night Island. Our producer, Phoebe, is doing a deep dive into the dark web to look for a lab or compounding pharmacy with ‘Aur’ in the name, but so far, no luck.”
“Needle in a haystack,” Gideon said. He looked up from the photo. “Anything else in the way of physical evidence?”
“There’s a photo of two men who were involved in the Night Island experiments. Both have disappeared. Talia and Luke are working that angle.”
“Is that it?”
“Probably.”