Page 58 of PenPal Hero

“Bonnie was afraid you and the rest of her brothers would chase me off.” He gave Burke a curious sideways glance as they passed through the gates and stepped closer to the rubble. “Like you did every other guy who tried to date her.”

Burke snorted. “The fact that they were capable of being chased off proves they weren’t right for her. It wouldn’t have worked with you, so we didn’t bother.”

He was right about that. Holt chuckled and pointed his hands in opposite directions. “Let’s split up and circle the perimeter. We’ll meet on the other side and compare notes. Then we’ll swap sides and do it again.”

Though Burke’s eyebrows rose, he nodded and ambled off to the right. They spent the next two days poking through charred boards and melted plastic and metal remnants of what used to be a standing building. They brought shovels and did some digging. Deeper in the rubble, they found embers that were still smoking.

Burke also uncovered a steel emergency shelter door. From the dusty handprints on the surface, it looked like it had been used recently.

What door? Holt had missed seeing it altogether during his numerous treks around the rubble. He was unable to see it right up to the point that Burke had described the dusty handprints.

He blinked a few times as the steel door finally shivered into focus. It was like a fog had been lifted from his brain or something. “Let’s see what’s beneath it.” He sprang forward, intending to lift the corner of the door.

Burke stopped him by stepping in his path and shaking his head. “Already checked. Nothing to see here.” He spoke so loudly that Holt halted, frowning.

“Coffee break,” Burke announced in an equally loud voice, angling his head at Holt’s truck.

Holt stared at him a moment before nodding. There was no coffee back in his truck. Burke was sending him some sort of silent message. Or a warning.

They strode back to the truck together, climbed in, and slammed the doors shut.

Holt swiveled his head toward Burke. “Well?”

“The ground is vibrating beneath us, dude.” Burke eyed him worriedly. “Can’t you feel it?”

“Nope.” But Holt believed him. He proved it by reaching for his cell phone and dialing the sheriff.

Cade Malone picked up after a couple of rings. “Lemme guess. You found something on your treasure hunt.”

“Yep, and it calls for a SWAT team.” Holt squinted out his windshield at the rubble, trying his hardest to see and hear what Burke was describing. If he sat really still, he could just barely pick up on the vibrations beneath the truck tires. “We uncovered a steel trapdoor leading under the warehouse to some sort of machinery that’s vibrating the ground.”

The sheriff was silent for a moment. “There’s no record of anything underground ever being built at the warehouse. Not so much as a storm shelter.”

“Guess whoever did it didn’t file for a building permit.” Holt was convinced they were on to something.

“I’ll gather the troops,” the sheriff promised. “Hang back until we get there.”

“We will.” Holt grimaced. “You can thank Burke for that.” Without Bonnie’s brother, he would’ve charged straight into the lion’s den.

A SWAT team arrived within the hour, armed the perimeter, then swarmed down the stairs beneath the dusty silver trap door. For the rest of the day, they dragged out lab technicians in white smocks and evacuated unconscious patients that were hooked up to a horrific number of cords and apparatuses. There was no denying that live humans were being experimented on below the warehouse. From all appearances, they’d been in operation down there for a good while. Their purchase of the property made a lot more sense now. So did burning down the building. It eliminated the possibility of squatters moving in and inadvertently discovering the activity taking place underground.

So far, though, the criminals in custody were refusing to answer any questions about, well, anything.

Seven out of their nine victims were small children. The police soon matched them to missing children’s cases from all over the country. A flood of therapists and medical doctors accompanied the families who came to collect their missing loved ones. Because of the nature of the case, the patients would continue to be monitored by their respective medical teams and law enforcement communities until their embedded triggers —if any — could be isolated and neutralized.

Computers and records retrieved from the underground experimentation facility painted a dire tale. The mind control specialists had been operating like a hoard of locusts,swooping in on small towns like Hereford to devour everyone and everything in its path —all in the name of science. After draining enough local resources — or, in some cases,after raising enough suspicion about their activities — they’d packed their bags and relocated their lab elsewhere.

Holt got permission to pay one of the prisoners a visit, a guy Jude had privately denoted as the ringleader of the lab beneath the warehouse. Jude suspected that he reported to someone higher up. However, Jude insisted he was calling the shots at the lab.

Holt didn’t know how Jude had figured this out, but the sheriff was buying it. That was good enough for him.

Quite frankly, Holt would’ve never pegged the scrawny guy seated in front of him at the visitor’s table as leadership material. He was way too nerdy-looking and anemically pale. The scent of stale cigarette smoke was clinging to his person. It smelled like the same brand Holt had found in the tree at Anderson Ranch that overlooked Bonnie’s team building exercise. The likelihood that he was staring at their elusive long-range cameraman rubbed him every way but the right way.

“Bet it’s not easy smoking while holding a camera and taking pictures,” Holt drawled, hoping to catch the guy off guard.

Though the lab nerd’s expression sharpened, all he did was start humming off-key. While he hummed, he leaned belligerently closer to stare unabashedly at Holt.

The man’s nerdy face wavered out of focus. In its place, a big black spider with hairy legs took shape.

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