Part 45 (1/2)
”All right.”
John pushed his worries away. He had a meeting with Charboric in a couple days. He had the device open on a workbench, possibly ruined. Visgrath had threatened him with harm if he didn't comply. But Casey was back in his life, and that was all that mattered.
CHAPTER 36 36.
”I think so, if the current doesn't exceed half an amp,” Henry said.
”We can't guarantee that,” John said.
”Not until we test,” Henry said.
John paged through the circuit board catalog. ”These IMCAL 212 boards seem to be what we need-”
The phone rang, and they looked up from the workbench filled with circuitry. They had spent the morning trying to simplify Henry's model of the thread. Grace was at the factory, giving Casey a tour.
”h.e.l.lo?”
”John, this is Grace. Visgrath is here. He's angry.”
”What? Why?”
”The circuits and equipment showed up on my corporate bill. He's suspicious.”
”Stall him. We're coming.”
”What is it?” Henry said.
”Visgrath. He's suspicious because Grace bought all this on her corporate card.”
”Oh, s.h.i.+t.”
”Yeah.”
Henry ran for the door. John looked at the device, sitting there in the open.
”I need to lock this in the safe,” John called.
”I'll meet you there,” Henry said.
John placed the device gently in the huge safe in the warehouse office. No one was getting in there.
When he reached his car, Henry was long gone. John sped toward the new factory, zipping past the noonday traffic on the highway. The factory was only ten minutes away.
The undercarriage of the Trans Am smashed against the speed b.u.mp as John came into the office complex. He slammed on his brakes as he came around the corner. An ambulance was in front of the building. Henry's car was parked in the fire lane, with its door open. There was Grace's car.
Paramedics were working on a body in the middle of the road.
John threw open the door of the car.
He ran.
As he neared the fallen body, he made out a woman's shoe. He came to a halt, his heart thumping.
Lying on the street, blood flowing from a wound in her abdomen, was Casey.
”Casey!” John cried. He tried to get closer, but a paramedic blocked him.
”Let us work, buddy,” she growled.
John stumbled back, tripping over the curb. What had happened? Where was Grace? Where was Henry?
He saw Viv, the shop foreman, coming out of the door of the Pinball Wizards factory.
”Viv!” he shouted. ”Where's Henry and Grace?”
She looked confused, shrugging her shoulders. ”Not here.”
”Where?” John cried.
”They left just a few minutes ago,” Viv said, confused. ”They left with Casey and the gruesome twosome.”
”Who?”
”You know, Visgrath and Charboric. They were all locked up in the office for a while, then Henry came, and then they all left.” She peered around John's shoulder. ”What's happening?”
”Casey,” John said numbly. ”She's been...”
”Is that blood? Jesus, that's Casey,” Viv said.
John felt his knees buckle. Viv, with legs thick enough to be mistaken for tree trunks, lifted him to his feet. ”Hold on there, John. Let's get you inside.”
John shook her off. His vision seemed to crystallize. They'd shot Casey. Visgrath and Charboric were on to him. They had to be. Something had forced their hand. Realization struck. They wanted the device. If they didn't know about it, they soon would. And John didn't have it. It was at the old factory.
He brushed past Viv, ignoring her squawk of outrage. His car was still idling, with its door open. He drove between the ambulance and the row of parked cars. His heart twisted as he saw Casey lying there. He hated himself for leaving. What else could he do?
There was a dark SUV outside the warehouse when he got there. He pulled the Trans Am around the corner of another alley and sat there shaking. He should have taken the device with him. Then he could have... What? Run? Not this time.
He popped his trunk, rooted around inside, and pulled out the tire iron. It felt cold in his palm. Useless and limp.
He snuck down the alley, taking the back way to the warehouse. He peered down the cross street and saw no one in the front seat of the SUV. He felt foolish. Lots of people parked in the alley. He'd probably seen that same SUV a dozen times.
He came to the padlocked rear door of the warehouse. He of course didn't have the key; it was in his dresser at home. He could see nothing inside. The window was crusted over with dirt and grime. John would have to go in the front door.
A Dumpster, half-rusted and smelling of foul water, blocked most of the alley. Beyond it were piles of pallets. Technically he owned all of this, but he hadn't bothered to clean it up.