Part 34 (1/2)
Jagged shards of ice needled the lining of her arteries. She forced the words past her teeth. ”The bas.e.m.e.nt... if anywhere.”
”How do we find it?”
”Through the kitchen.”
”All right,” he said, moving past her. ”Let's go.”
”No. You go. I can't.”
”Come on, Alicia. This is no time to-”
”No,” she said, and once again heard her voice climbing the scale. ”Didn't you hear me? I CAN'T!”
He stared at her a moment, then turned away. ”Okay. You can't. I'll check it out alone. Don't go away.”
”I'm sorry,” she said softly after he was gone. ”But I just can't go there.”
As Jack reached the bottom of the steps, he wondered if whatever abuse Alicia had suffered had been committed in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Good chance, judging from her reaction.
He found the light switch and checked out the place.
Maybe Ronald Clayton once had a bas.e.m.e.nt workshop. Sure as h.e.l.l couldn't tell from the look of the place now. The Arab's wrecking crew had done their thing down here too-maybe they'd started here. They'd torn out the dropped ceiling, ripped the paneling from the walls, dismantled the furniture, and sliced up the cus.h.i.+ons. He saw what looked like a disemboweled mattress and box spring, so he guessed there must have been a bed down here too.
Jack kicked through the debris and found miscellaneous electronic equipment-circuit boards, memory chips, and the like-but if they'd found a working computer, he was sure they'd carried it off to where they could inspect its hard drive down to the last byte.
He also came across some old, rusted-looking track lighting fixtures and noticed the oversize bulb holders. Doc Clayton must have liked it bright down here.
Jack poked around a little longer, then went back upstairs. He found Alicia in the dining room where he'd left her, standing by the pile of debris, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, looking ready to jump out of her skin.
”Find anything?” she said.
”Just another pile like this.”
”I... I'm sorry I couldn't go down with you,” she said, not looking at him. ”It's just...”
”You don't have to explain.”
”I wasn't going to. I'm just telling you that this is the way I am right now, and there's not a lot I can do about it.”
”Okay.” Just as well, he thought. This wasn't the time or place for an explanation. ”Then we'll have to work around it.”
She spread her hands toward the carnage. ”Are we wasting our time?”
”Maybe,” Jack said. ”But I know some things about hiding stuff, maybe a thing or two they don't. One thing I do know is that you tend to hide your most valuable stuff close to you, where you can keep an eye on the hiding place, and get to it quick if you need it.” He looked at her. ”Where was your father's bedroom?”
”Upstairs.”
”Any problem with going upstairs?”
”No. My room used to be up there.”
Jack led the way, with Alicia directing him. A left at the top of the stairs took them to the master bedroom.
Maybe it had been masculine-looking, maybe it had still retained feminine touches from the days when Alicia's mother had lived here. All guesswork now. The room had been stripped to the walls; whatever once might have lent it character or personality now lay in a heap in the center of the floor.
He spotted a sledgehammer and a couple of crowbars leaning near a particularly damaged area of the wall in the far corner. He crossed the room for a closer look.
”Look at this,” he said as he fingered the shattered edges of the wallboard. ”They opened up the wall here.”
Beyond the ragged opening was a tiny room-a converted closet, really-lined with shelves-empty shelves.
”Looks like some sort of secret library. Did you know about this?”
Alicia, stiff and pale, was standing at the other end of the room, near the door, just over the threshold.
She shook her head. ”No.”
What had Clayton kept here? Jack wondered. Research journals and papers? His notes on whatever it is the others are after?
He turned and kicked through the pile of debris. No paper.
”Well, whatever was stored here is gone-either gone when they got here, or they took it with them.” He moved toward Alicia. ”Let's try your room.”
”My room? Why?”
”Well, he left the whole place to you, didn't he? Maybe he left you something else. Which way?”
Alicia pointed down the hall to a dark doorway. Jack stepped through and found another example of methodical destruction. He pointed to the central pile of debris.
”Recognize anything?”
”No.” Alicia had entered behind him and was stepping gingerly through the room. ”Why should I? I left when I was eighteen and haven't been back.”
”Not once?”
”Not once.”
Something round and s.h.i.+ny black caught Jack's eye, and he bent to pick it up. A tiny rubber tire.
”Were you into toy cars?” he said, holding it out to Alicia.
She took it from him and stared at it.
”No. Never.”
”Maybe your brother, then.”
”No... Thomas was a couch potato... books, movies, video games. I doubt his interest in cars went beyond the fact that they allowed him to ride instead of walk.” She held the tire up to the light, rolling it over in her fingers. ”Where's the rest of it?”
”Somewhere in there, I'd guess,” he said, indicating the pile. ”I'm going to check out the bathrooms.”