The Vanishing Stair (Truly Devious #2)(85)

When a would-be thief stepped onto the wooden platform at the entrance of the tunnel, the old-fashioned mechanism swung into action. The nurse’s arm moved in a stabbing motion that delivered a stiff dose of the drug to whatever or whoever happened to be in the way.

The formula for the drug had come from one of the early pages of Aurora Winston’s diary, a section that was only lightly encrypted.

Gwendolyn assessed the raider and decided he was too heavy for her to move. She went back upstairs, picked up the phone and called the pest control service.

“Another one?” The gravelly voice on the other end of the line sounded amused. “That makes two in the past week.”

“It’s been a busy week.”

________

Gwendolyn took the diary out of the basement vault and carried it upstairs to her condo, located above her shop. She sat down at her desk, opened her notebook and picked up a pen.

The experiments conducted inside the lab code-named Vortex had produced an array of results ranging from lethal to extraordinary. But by far the most interesting were the offspring of the man who had been placed in charge of the lab, Dr. Alexander Winston. He had conducted some of the experiments on himself and his wife, Aurora. They had produced a daughter.

Unfortunately for him, Alexander Winston had not been shy about scattering his sperm far and wide. Most of the women he had impregnated had been unwitting victims of his experiments. Winston had kept careful records of his offspring right up until his wife had discovered his outside activities.

Aurora had been more than a little irritated. As head of the Vortex lab, Alexander had already taken credit for the results of much of her own brilliant work in the field of paranormal research. Discovering that Alexander was cheating on her had been too much.

Officially Alexander Winston had died in the course of a disastrous lab accident involving radiation and an unknown crystal. But Aurora had made detailed notes of her husband’s final hours in her journal. Gwendolyn had been able to decipher that section. There was no doubt in her mind about the cause of death. Aurora Winston had exacted her revenge.

… Alex’s delirium grows worse by the hour. He now suffers from extreme anxiety and wild hallucinations. I never leave his bedside. The clinic staff think I am the most devoted of wives. But Alex knows the truth. I see it in his eyes. He has tried to tell the doctors I am responsible for what is happening to him, but they attribute his ravings to the effects of the radiation. Everyone here is convinced that what happened in the lab was a dreadful accident. There is no way I can be blamed. After all, I was in another wing of the lab when the disaster occurred …



After Alexander Winston’s death, management of the Vortex lab had been handed to Aurora, in part because no one else was qualified for the position, but mostly because it was rapidly becoming apparent that engaging in paranormal research was not a smart career path for ambitious scientists. Times had changed, and so had mainstream attitudes. Those who claimed to be psychic or to possess extrasensory perception were often dismissed as charlatans and frauds.

Nevertheless, Aurora believed in the potential of paranormal research and dedicated herself to it—right up until, with no warning, the entire Bluestone Project was closed down. The order was given to destroy all of the labs, including Vortex.

Afterward Aurora had become reclusive and increasingly paranoid. Eventually she had died under mysterious circumstances. Her daughter, Pandora, was profoundly embarrassed by her mother’s mental illness. She did her best to ensure a normal upbringing for her own two daughters, both of whom had become successful in their chosen fields.

Eloisa was a research scientist who currently worked for a pharmaceutical company. After obtaining a degree in archaeology, Gwendolyn had opened Swan’s Antiques in Seattle’s Pioneer Square.

Pandora had died in a car accident a year ago. Gwendolyn and Eloisa had discovered the diary and, with it, their secret heritage while cleaning out their mother’s house.

Nothing would ever be the same for either of them.





CHAPTER 41


Victor and I have a business proposition to put to the two of you,” Lucas said. “The discovery of the Fogg Lake lab is going to require a lot of professional assistance. We are hoping that the firm of Lark and LeClair will agree to serve as a liaison between the Las Vegas headquarters of the Foundation and the community of Fogg Lake.”

They were gathered in Catalina’s apartment. Victor and Lucas occupied the sofa. Olivia was in the reading chair. Slater stood near the window. Catalina had put a plate of cheese and crackers on the coffee table and had just finished pouring the wine.

Lucas’s proposal stopped her cold.

“Would you define liaison?” she said carefully.

Olivia’s gaze sharpened with interest. “Yes, please define.”

“We are well aware that the Fogg Lake community is not thrilled to have the Foundation move into town,” Lucas said. “Unfortunately the Rancourts left an unfavorable impression.”

Catalina took a sip of her wine. “You can say that again.”

“We need the cooperation of the locals,” Lucas continued. “We’re afraid that some of the experts on the Foundation staff will not be sensitive to the nuances of the community’s expectations and behavioral norms.”

“What Uncle Lucas is trying to say,” Slater said, “is that he and Victor are afraid that some of the Foundation people will see Fogg Lake as an interesting biological experiment.”