Shift:A Virals Adventure(19)

The cable had snared me.

Dang it. I just bought these Dockers.

Extricating myself, I shoved the cord back inside the locker.

Unsafe. I’d need to have a word with . . . Glasnapp? Johnson?

Mental note: Find out who runs this department.

I proceeded to the maintenance room and opened a sleek black panel.

At least I know where the sprinkler controls are, right?

A message was blinking in red: Water supply manually disengaged.

I frowned. The shutoff valve was in the main garage.

I closed the panel, retraced my steps, and entered the mechanics’ bay. The water pipes were in the corner, beside several large bins that stored monkey feed.

The problem was immediately apparent—the emergency handle had been turned perpendicular to the pipe. Which meant the valve was closed, shutting off the system’s water supply. A tiny red sensor was flashing like a railroad signal.

Why had the flow been disengaged? When? By whom?

This makes no sense.

Was someone goofing around in there?

My mind leapt to Tory and her friends. I wouldn’t put anything past those four.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re great kids. Bright, energetic, polite. Tory especially—with my daughter, every day was a learning experience. I no longer doubted her IQ was higher than mine, and I hold two PhDs.

But honestly, I couldn’t believe the things they got into.

After a moment’s reflection, I dismissed my suspicion.

Even with security down, they’d have had no way of getting in here.

Baffled, I stretched to my tiptoes, grabbed the handle, and repositioned it parallel to the pipe. The sensor blinked twice, then stopped altogether.

One issue solved.

I’d taken two steps toward the door when I saw it.

Black cable. Hanging from the corner feed bin.

Like that cable in the locker.

Curious, I climbed to the bin’s opening and tugged the handle. And nearly toppled off the steps as the entire door came free in my hand. It dropped to the floor with a reverberating clatter.

Irritated now, I peered inside.

My head nearly exploded.

Stolen lab equipment nearly filled the space.

What are the odds . . .

Then a second thunderbolt struck home.

I hurried out to the lockers and found the one that attacked me.

My hand froze an inch from the handle. Could I legally open it?

Did I need a warrant? Probable cause? A witness?

Screw it. I’m responsible for this facility.

I engaged the latch, was surprised when the locker opened easily.

Inside were three lengths of cable, a LIRI laptop, and a router.

“You are so busted!” I shouted at no one, angrier than I’d realized.

Slamming the door, I scanned the locker’s face.

Found a name.

Trey Terry.





I was sorting email when Kit burst into the guest office I was using.

“Can you help me with something, Tempe?” Brusque. “Outside?”

“Sure, Kit.” Intrigued. “Should I bring a weapon?”

“No, nothing like that.” Kit’s jaw tightened. I could tell he was barely keeping his agitation in check. “I think I solved our break-in. Looks like an inside job, but I need to be certain.”

“Really?” My interest piqued. “That was quick work.”

“Dumb luck, mostly. But I put the pieces together on my way up here.”

“Let’s talk while we walk.” Logging off Gmail. “I’m all ears.”

“I need you to compare some wires down at the vehicle depot.” Kit shook his head in exasperation. “My prime suspect appears to be both deviously clever and a complete idiot.”

“Wouldn’t be the first criminal to fit that mold.”

We descended to the ground floor, exited Building One, and turned left.

The September sun felt warm on my face. It would be cold in Montreal by now, maybe even frost at night. Even Charlotte could get chilly this time of year. But not Charleston—summer still lingered down here by the coast. I had no complaints.

Kit gestured vaguely up the flowered-lined path. “The garage is two buildings down.”

“You said something about dumb luck?”

In clipped tones my nephew explained what he’d discovered and outlined his theory. “Terry must’ve planned to sneak the stuff out during a feeder run.” Kit’s frown deepened. “Scary thing is, I think it would’ve worked.”

“Makes sense. A crafty scheme, actually. Except for jamming incriminating evidence inside his locker. And leaving more hanging from the hidey-hole.”

Kit’s brows shot up. “That’s the part I don’t get. How can you be that cunning and then botch the whole thing with such foolish mistakes? If he’d kept everything tucked inside the bin, I’d never have found it.”

“These dolts get sloppy all the time.” Don’t I know it. “Wipe down a steering wheel, but forget the turn signal. Buy quicklime to dissolve a body, but pay with a credit card. It’s the little details that sink them.”

Still, what Kit was describing was odd.

Such basic mistakes. The skeptical part of my brain rose and stretched.

We reached the depot and made our way to the vehicle bay. A spectacularly round security guard was stacking equipment in the center of the room. Chief Hudson hovered behind him, cataloging and photographing each item.