Shadow Game (GhostWalkers, #1)(14)

In spite of her desire to remain calm, her heart was pounding alarmingly. She was entering fully into a cat-and-mouse game with her father's killer. And she was seeing Ryland Miller again. The idea was nearly as unsettling as returning to the laboratories. There was no way to ignore the attraction between them—it was magnified by every thought, every movement.

She leaned over the retinal scan, fitting her eye to the lens at the heavy door leading to her father's domain. As she moved into the lab, she snagged a white coat from a peg on the wall, buttoning it over her clothes without missing a stride. Someone called her name and she waved the obligatory hand, still moving quickly.

"Dr. Whitney?" One of the techs halted her determined progress. Lily looked at him, keeping her expression carefully blank. The waves of sympathy nearly swamped her. "I'm so sorry, we"re so sorry about your father. We all hope he's found very soon. Has there been any word at all on his disappearance?"

Lily shook her head. "Nothing at all. If someone took him for money, they haven't asked for a ransom. The FBI thinks they would have already demanded money. There's been nothing at all, just silence." She was reaching for every emotion pouring out of the technician. The man couldn't possibly have been involved in her father's murder. He was genuinely upset at the way his boss had simply vanished. He had liked and respected Peter Whitney. Lily smiled at him. "Thank you so much for your concern. I know everyone feels his loss."

Right now Lily couldn't think about her father and how much she would miss him. She wouldn't think about being alone and frightened. She couldn't talk, she didn't dare. Her emotions were raw, far too close to the surface. She had waited all week, torn between impatience and a terrible dread, to be officially asked by the president of the corporation to take over her father's work. She hadn't dared appear too eager and had stayed locked up in her home, mourning her loss, grieving privately, away from even those whom she called family, all the while planning carefully her every move to find her father's murderer.

She had searched for a hidden laboratory in her enormous home, but there were so many rooms, hidden and not, that it seemed an impossible task. There were secret passageways leading belowground and up to the attics. She had meticulously gone over the blueprints and the floor plans, but to no avail. So far she had not found her father's secret world, and she hoped he'd left her a clue to its whereabouts in his office at Donovans.

Lily moved quickly through the rows of bottles and burners, through two rooms filled with computers to halt at another door. Firmly she pressed her palm and fingertips into the print scanner and leaned close to speak her coded phrase, waiting as an unseen computer analyzed the combination of her speech patterns and hand scan to verify her identity. The heavy door slid aside and she went into another, much larger complex.

The laboratory had muted lighting, turning the world into a bluish, tranquil setting. It was filled with plants and trickling waterfalls. The sound of water added to the calm atmosphere kept at all times in the lab. In the background was the continual sound of the ocean playing on a tape, waves rushing the shore and retreating, adding to the soothing ambiance of the laboratory.

"How was he last night?" Lily asked after greeting the dark-haired lab tech, who had snapped to attention in his chair when she entered. She had known Roger Talbot, her father's assistant, for five years. She had always liked and respected him.

"Not good, Dr. Whitney; he didn't sleep again. He's pacing back and forth like a wild animal. The level of aggression and agitation has risen daily this last week. He's asked for you repeatedly and has ceased all cooperation with testing. His pacing is driving me crazy."

Lily pinned him with a sharp gaze. "From what I read in the reports, his hearing is extremely acute, Roger—I doubt if he cares much for your admission. You're not the one locked up, now, are you?" Her voice was low but it carried a lash of reprimand.

"I'm sorry," Roger apologized immediately. "You're right. I don't have an excuse for being so unprofessional. I'm letting the colonel get to me. Colonel Higgens has been extremely difficult. Without your father around to provide some kind of a buffer, we're all…"

"I'll see what I can do to keep him out of here for a while," she soothed.

"About your father…" Roger trailed off as she continued to look at him. "It must be difficult for you," he tried again.

Lily was monitoring his emotions as she had with the other technician. Roger had no idea how her father could have disappeared and he was desperate for his boss to return. She tilted her chin. "Yes, it is difficult not knowing what happened to him. Take a break, Roger, you've earned it. I'll be here for some time. I'll beep you when I leave."

Roger glanced around the room as if they might not be alone. He lowered his voice. "He's getting stronger, Dr. Whitney."

She followed his gaze toward the other side of the lab, waited a heartbeat, her mind assimilating the information. "What gives you the impression he's growing stronger?"

Roger rubbed at his temples. "I just know. He becomes very quiet when he's not pacing; he sits there, perfectly still, concentrating. The computers go crazy, alarms start going off, everyone scrambles, but it's a bogey. I know it's him. And I think he might be able to talk to the others." He leaned closer still. "Not only has he stopped with testing, but so have all the others. They aren't supposed to be able to communicate with the heavy glass and all, yet it's like they have a collective brain or something. No one is cooperating."