The Belial Stone (The Belial Series #1)(35)

Situated directly in front of the windows was the biggest desk Laney had ever seen. Made of handcrafted mahogany, it was L-shaped. On closer inspection, she noticed cherubs painstakingly crafted into the trim. There were also three sleek leather chairs positioned in front of it.

The other side of the room had a large conference table, capable of seating twelve.

“Just like my office at the University,” she said.

Patrick stared out the windows at the lush back lawn. “I can’t believe this is actually a place of business.”

“Henry believes that a good environment means a productive environment,” Jake replied.

“Well, then this must be the most productive place on the planet,” Laney said.

“I like to think so,” said a voice behind her.

“Hey, Henry,” Jake said.

Laney turned to see the elusive Henry Chandler, the man Forbes magazine had dubbed the most analytical thinker of his generation. He walked toward her and she gaped yet again. Casually dressed in a light blue oxford and jeans, she noted his unusual eyes. They were a rich violet, an arresting combination with his pitch black hair.

She was sure, however, that his unusual eyes were not what grabbed most people’s attention when they first met him. Henry was easily over seven feet tall, and his head and hands were disproportionately large for his body. She immediately diagnosed him as suffering from some form of gigantism. With all the media coverage on the Chandler Group, why hadn’t she ever read reports on this?

Realizing her rudeness, she snapped her mouth shut and extended her hand. “Dr. Chandler, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Henry gently dwarfed her hand in both of his. Obviously, he was accustomed to the impact his size had on people. “The pleasure is all mine, Dr. McPhearson. And please, call me Henry. I’m glad to see you’re all right after your adventures.”

“It’s been a rough twenty-four hours. Thank you for letting us stay here.” She glanced over her shoulder at her uncle, who had walked up behind them. “This is my uncle, Father Patrick Delaney.”

Henry extended his hand. “Father, I’m glad you could join us. Your archaeological expertise may be invaluable in the next few days.”

Patrick smiled as he shook Henry’s hand. “I’m not sure how all of our intrigue is going to be of help to you. I think we may just be distracting you from more realistic leads in finding Jake’s brother.”

“Well, we have a strong belief the two are related.” Henry gestured behind him to a young boy, who looked no more than ten. He reminded Laney of Elliot from E.T., with his dark hair, big eyes, and freckles. Her focus on Henry, she hadn’t even realized he was there.

“This is Danny Wartowski, our top analyst,” Henry said.

Laney couldn’t hide her surprise. “Wartowski? Not the Daniel Wartowski who was up for a Nobel Prize in physics last year?”

Henry’s smile seemed to reach from one end of his face to the other. “That’s our Danny.”

“Impressive.” Laney smiled at the young man. She’d read about him, but meeting the thirteen-year-old prodigy was something else. He was just so young-looking, it was hard to reconcile the child-like image with the incredibly mature brain.

Danny glanced up, his hazel eyes meeting Laney's for only a second before they resumed their inspection of the carpet. “Not really. It’s just physics.”

Laney wanted to hug him. His introversion had been mentioned in the articles she’d read, but it was painful to witness. He seemed as if he was waiting for a blow, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. She’d never read anything on his early history, just his lightning-quick mind. But it was obvious his childhood had not been an easy one. The aftereffects were stamped all over his small frame.

Henry led everyone over to the conference table on the right hand side of the room. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Henry took his position at the head of the table and everyone arranged themselves around one end. Danny took his seat next to him, placing his own laptop on the table.

As Laney pulled out a chair, she realized that monitors had been built into the table. A wireless keyboard was on a shelf just under it.

Henry hit a button and a large projection screen descended from the ceiling. “Okay. So here’s what we know: Tom went missing five days ago, which lines up with when other parolees have gone missing in New York state. Their disappearances coincide with regular cargo flights underwritten by a political action group.”

Laney looked at the slides that Henry displayed on the screen. Parolees had been disappearing from New York State for almost a year, at the beginning of each month. It looked like on average they were losing anywhere between twenty and thirty every month. Tom had disappeared in that same time period. Obviously, something was happening to them. But this couldn’t be related to Drew and the attacks on her. What were they doing here?

Patrick interrupted, as if reading her thoughts. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how any of this is connected to the attacks on Laney or Drew’s death.”

Henry nodded. “I didn’t notice it, either. Danny’s the one who made the connection.”

All eyes turned to Danny. Laney was amazed at the transformation in the boy. He looked confident, in charge, and years older. Apparently, his shyness only applied to social settings, not to his professional life.