Chapter 14 - 17 Mariner’s Hill
Saint Orison stood four hours north of the city, where cliffs descended toward a gray, restless sea.
Naomi wanted Olivia to remain behind while investigators searched the house.
Olivia refused.
“You are a potential target,” Naomi said.
“I’ve been a target for years.”
“That does not make this safer.”
“It makes me tired of waiting in rooms while other people decide what I’m allowed to know.”
Naomi eventually agreed on the condition that Olivia remain behind the entry team.
They arrived at 17 Mariner’s Hill shortly before dusk.
The house stood alone beyond a rusted gate, surrounded by wind-bent trees and tall grass. It was larger than Olivia expected but appeared almost abandoned. Gray shingles covered the exterior. Several windows were boarded from inside.
No vehicle stood in the driveway.
A local officer cut the chain.
Naomi’s team approached with weapons drawn.
Olivia waited beside an unmarked car, wearing a dark coat over the pale rose blouse she had not yet been able to throw away.
The front door was unlocked.
That frightened Naomi more than a locked one would have.
The investigators entered.
Minutes passed.
Wind carried the sound of waves from below the cliffs.
Naomi appeared in the doorway.
“It’s clear.”
Olivia followed her inside.
The front room contained almost no furniture.
A wooden table.
Two chairs.
A cold fireplace.
And one framed photograph on the wall.
Connor had said a photograph stopped him from entering farther.
Olivia approached it.
The image showed two children standing on a beach.
One was Olivia at approximately six years old.
She recognized the red coat her father had bought her.
Beside her stood a boy of perhaps eight, his dark hair blown across his forehead.
Olivia had no memory of him.
Written beneath the photograph were four words.
Olivia and Gabriel, 1993.
Her chest tightened.
“Gabriel,” she whispered.
Naomi examined the frame.
“There’s something behind it.”
She removed the photograph.
A metal keypad was embedded in the wall.
Olivia looked again at the date.
1993.
She entered the numbers.
The wall clicked.
A narrow door opened beside the fireplace.
Behind it, stairs descended underground.
The air smelled of dust, salt, and old paper.
Naomi ordered two investigators ahead.
The staircase ended in a concrete corridor lit by emergency bulbs that should not have possessed power in an abandoned house.
Somebody was maintaining the property.
The first room contained shelves of labeled boxes.
Victor Ward.
Holloway Counsel.
Saint Orison.
Northstar.
Daniel Bennett.
Elaine Cross.
Olivia moved toward her father’s name.
Naomi blocked her path.
“Photographs first. Nothing gets touched until the scene is documented.”
An investigator called from the next room.
“Reyes, you need to see this.”
They followed his voice.
The second room contained surveillance equipment.
Modern surveillance equipment.
Monitors displayed live feeds from locations across the state.
Ward Meridian’s lobby.
Connor’s estate.
Brenda’s office.
Olivia’s apartment building.
Olivia stared at the screen showing her own front entrance.
“This feed is active,” the investigator said.
Naomi began issuing orders.
“Trace the signal. Secure the network. Nobody connects external devices.”
Olivia noticed another monitor.
It displayed the private restaurant.
The dining room was empty now, but the broken salad bowl still lay near the table.
Somebody outside the state investigation had watched everything.
On the desk beneath the monitors was a fresh cup of coffee.
Naomi touched the side without moving it.
“Warm.”
The house had not been empty when they arrived.
A door slammed somewhere above them.
Officers rushed toward the stairs.
Naomi drew her weapon.
Olivia turned toward the shelves.
One box had been removed recently.
Dust outlined the empty space.
The label beneath it read:
GABRIEL CROSS - ACTIVE
A speaker hidden in the ceiling crackled.
Then a man’s voice filled the room.
“Hello, Olivia.”
She froze.
The voice was calm, mature, and strangely familiar.
Naomi searched for the speaker.
“Identify yourself.”
The man ignored her.
“I’m sorry about the restaurant,” he said. “Brenda always did confuse cruelty with authority.”
Olivia stepped closer to the desk.
“Are you Gabriel?”
A quiet breath came through the speaker.
“You found the photograph.”
“Are you my brother?”
“You should leave the house.”
“Answer me.”
“Naomi Reyes cannot protect you from what is coming.”
Naomi’s eyes sharpened at the use of her name.
“Where are you?” she demanded.
The monitors went black one by one.
May you like
Before the final screen darkened, a message appeared.
ASK NAOMI WHO SENT THE FIRST PACKAGE.
