“Yes,” Sam says. “He’s awake, but very weak. You’ll need to go in one at a time, but he wants to see you both. It’s on the second floor—Room 219.”
Aaron gives my arm a quick squeeze before he goes. I don’t know if anyone else catches it, but Taylor must get her sharp eyes from her mother. Michele’s face isn’t nearly as expressive however, and I can’t tell if she approves or disapproves.
My inner-Emily says it’s neither, that she’s withholding judgment for the time being.
Porter sits down in one of the chairs across from me. “Hey, Anna.” He gives Deo a little nod. “I’m glad the two of you made it home safe.”
“That’s actually what we were discussing,” Kelsey says. “I’m not sure that their current home is safe, but that seems to be where they’re expected to return.”
Michele and Porter exchange a look, and then she says, “We may have a solution, but before we get into that, how much do you think Delphi knows about Aaron and Taylor?”
“I don’t know.” I repeat what I just finished telling the others. “I did my best, but . . .”
“From what you’ve told us,” Michele says, “they could just as easily have gotten information from Daniel. Taking the Delphi position was a risk. I wasn’t entirely behind his decision, but Magda wanted more data, more names, before we began. Daniel has put together a pretty solid file over the past two months. I was worried the data might have been lost in the fire, but he slipped this to me when we were in the room.” She opens her hand to reveal a flash drive about the size of a Starburst. “So she definitely wants to move forward.”
“Move forward with what?” Deo asks.
Kelsey nods. “And who is Magda? I’m kind of lost here.”
“She’s a very rich lady who has the same grievance toward Cregg and the Delphi Project that I do. That hundreds of parents both here and in Europe do. She wants to establish an alternative treatment facility for the psychically gifted offspring of Delphi subjects. And eventually, she hopes to find a cure. But first, we have to find the kids.”
“She’s also the new owner of my barely used long-bed pickup truck and fifth wheel,” Porter says. “For which I still think she overpaid, especially since I’d have donated it to the cause.”
Sam snorts and says, “Hush, Jerome. The woman had Michele flown home in her personal jet. She probably has shoes that cost more than she paid for your camper.”
Michele laughs. “Those would be some expensive shoes, Sam. But yeah, she can afford it.”
“Camper?” Deo asks, beating me to the punch.
“A damn fine camper,” Porter says. “Sleeps eight. Full kitchen, satellite dish. Made two trips in it before Molly’s grandma died. Didn’t have the heart to use it after that. Or the heart to sell it.”
“The original plan,” Michele says, “was for Daniel to fly out and investigate each of the cases. But he called me the other night, before he went back to The Warren, and mentioned the camper as an alternative. He was still hoping at that point that Aaron and Taylor would be okay at home, but he thought Anna might be helpful in assessing the cases. Something about your ability to block the Badea woman.”
For the next ten minutes or so we discuss the details. It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s a plan. It’s just a matter of looping Aaron and Taylor in to finalize things. And I’m starting to get a little antsy about finalizing things quickly, since I have no clue when our ride back to Bart House might arrive.
Kelsey tugs on my sleeve. “Do you think we should go look for Ashley? I’m a little worried, given how upset she was.”
“I’ll go,” I tell her. “I need a bathroom break anyway.”
“Who’s Ashley?” Michele asks.
I let Kelsey explain and head down the hallway, realizing that I already know where she is, or at least where she’ll be by the time I get up to the second floor. She’ll be coming out of Room 219.
And that’s exactly where she is. Once again, I startle her and she jumps. She’s wearing pink scrubs, with STC on the pocket, and there’s a red lanyard around her neck. The clipboard is hiding her badge, and she’s sticking her phone in her pocket.
“My God, Anna! You have to stop sneaking up on me. I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
“I’m sorry. I was looking for Aaron. We need to leave and—”
Ashley looks down the hallway behind me. Her eyes, still pink around the edges from crying, remind me of a frightened animal. “Aaron’s not in there. I think he and his sister went back down to talk to their mom. I’ve—I’ve got to go. Tell them I said good-bye. I’ll be back in the morning.”
Ashley hurries off toward the elevators. I tap on the door, then inch it open. “Daniel?”
When he doesn’t respond, I nearly close the door, in case he’s sleeping. But something feels off.
Yeah. Open it. Something’s definitely off.
“Daniel?”
I open the door and breathe a sigh of relief. He is sleeping. He’s propped up in bed. There’s some sort of tube in his throat.
Except . . .