Mason scoffed. “Sterling Sparrow—overbearing. I’m glad that overdue news bulletin finally came through.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t sure how much longer we could keep it under wraps.”
Sparrow darted a dark-eyed glare toward Mason, but instead of responding, he turned to me. His expression was again serious. “It’s my priority. Finding the identity of the kidnappers is all of our priority. I get that Lorna has needed you. We do too. Last night while the shit was happening at Garfield Park, the preliminary lab results came in from the forensics team we sent to the underground bunker.”
Our capos had discovered two underground bunkers in the wilderness of Montana. The trackers in our wives’ shoes had lured them there. Mason recognized the setup and thankfully, we didn’t lose Christian or Romero to the trap. One bunker was blown to rubble. The other was able to be searched.
Patrick hit a few keys and the large overhead screens that had been rotating images from around Chicago, now filled with a photograph of what appeared to be a cell. “Mason, do you want to tell them what Laurel said?”
Mason leaned back in his chair. “Doc said she believes Araneae and Lorna.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she?”
Mason raised one hand as he stood, his chair rolling the opposite direction. “Let me finish. She said that she believes the women don’t remember anything. She’s been running tests on their blood draws. I don’t get all of it, but she’s been able to identify some similar compounds to her formula. She says the amounts...” He took a breath and shrugged. “Fuck, she can tell you herself.” He looked at me. “I’m sure you’d get it better than I do.”
We all had our specialties. Intelligence wasn’t lacking in any of us. Our differences strengthened our team, not weakened it.
“What did she say?” I probed. “Tell us what you can.”
“It appears that they were both given similar dosages.”
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “We don’t know. It could mean that whoever had them has perfected the formula.”
Rightfully so, Laurel would be more concerned with the formula. My focus was on my wife and Araneae. “Will they get the memories back?”
“Doc said they could. She said one of the most...fuck, she had a word. Basically, the best stimulus for memory is from our senses. Smell is the most powerful. The next is sound and then sight. Taste and feel fall near the end. So a smell could be the trigger to retrieving their memories, or a sound, like a train whistle or even a phrase. Last of the prominent senses is sight.”
“That’s where these pictures come in,” Patrick said.
We all looked up at what appeared to be a cell.
“Laurel,” Mason went on, “believes that the ladies should be shown the pictures to see if they elicit something.”
“No.” The answer came resoundingly from both Sparrow and me.
Mason was still standing. “Hear me out. Laurel said she could introduce them in one of their sessions.”
“They’re not fucking sessions,” Sparrow said. “My wife doesn’t need therapy.”
His denial made me bristle. The little bit of talking Lorna had done with Laurel seemed therapeutic. I didn’t give a damn what they called it. I was for it. However, at the moment, a battle over semantics wasn’t worth fighting
“Fine, when they chat,” Mason replied.
I looked up again at the picture. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen it. “You said that lab results came in from the forensics team?”
“Lorna’s blood was found in this cell room along with someone else’s.” Patrick hit a few keys. “We’re doing a search of the data banks to see if we can get a DNA match.”
“It wasn’t Araneae’s?” Sparrow asked.
“They found Araneae’s in a hallway near the entry. Since most of her wounds were on the soles of her feet, we’re thinking that’s why her blood was there.” Patrick let out a long breath. “Lorna’s was found in a greater quantity along with the unidentified individual’s.”
“Could it be Nancy Pierce’s?” Sparrow asked.
Laurel had worked with Dr. Dixon to determine that the woman found did have significant genetic markers in common with both Mason and Lorna. There was no question: she was their mother.
“No,” Patrick replied definitively. “The other larger splatter was most definitely from a different individual. Currently, individual X.”
I recalled Lorna’s dream. “I need to talk to Laurel. Is she staying here today or going to the institute?”
“Here,” Sparrow said. “Laurel is the target. She made a list of some essentials she needs from her lab at the Sparrow Institute. Mason and I have Sparrows collecting whatever she wants.”
“Her and Mason’s apartment isn’t big enough,” I began, thinking of the logistics. The space she had at the Sparrow Institute was so large, most wasn’t even utilized.
“There’s room on this floor,” Sparrow interrupted.
“This floor?” Patrick and I questioned together. This floor had always been only us. Always. The four of us, no one else.
Sparrow turned his stare to us. “Don’t we have other things to discuss?”
From the look on Mason’s face, I had the feeling that Patrick and I were the only uninformed participants in this conversation. The decision had been made.
“What do you want to ask Laurel?” Mason inquired.
“I want to better understand what you’re saying.” It wasn’t one hundred percent accurate. I wanted to be more specific with Laurel about Lorna’s dream. Casually bringing up the subject of Missy, Mason and Lorna’s sister, wasn’t what was needed to keep us focused.
Sparrow looked at his watch. “My day is fucking packed.” He looked at me. “Are you up for a trip?”
“A trip?” I wasn’t ready to leave Lorna.
“DC.”
“A visit with Edison Walters?”
Edison Walters, a senior legislative aide, has been a staple in Washington DC for over thirty years. During that time, he has worked closely with various legislators from all parties. He’s stayed securely in the background, helping to research and draft various bills.
The seemingly benign aide had an alternate identity that was known to very few. He was, in reality, Top, the top commander of the Sovereign Order. The man had more power than five-star generals or even the president, and yet in his everyday life, he answered to junior congressmen and -women. Little did they or most know that Walters could say the word and World War III would begin, top dignitaries would disappear, or crowned princes would meet their demise.
“I don’t like this,” Mason said. “Top doesn’t welcome visitors. I should go alone.”
“It’s time for breakfast,” Sparrow said, tilting his chin toward the steel door. “Lorna was up there when I left as was Araneae. If they can both be out and about, we’re giving them a full kitchen. This discussion can wait.” He turned to Patrick. “I hope Ruby will be there. It’s nice to have her home.”
The worries of the world momentarily disappeared from Patrick’s blue eyes and a smile spread across his lips. “I’m learning that teenagers and mornings don’t always mix.”