Changed (Second Sight) (4 page)

Geoffrey glanced at the hand on his shoulder but immediately launched into one of his spiels.

“The group that eats together, stays together,” he said in sing-song, flashing his smile. “The group that stays together, grows together. The group that grows together, grows stronger.
We’re
that group, and we’re changing the planet, one child at a time.”

•••••

Mac quickly knelt next to the office chair. Isabelle’s head lolled back, eyes shut, and her hands lay in her lap, one glove still off. She’d pushed too hard.

“Isabelle?” he said quietly, putting a finger to her jugular.

She inhaled sharply at the contact, as though he’d woken her up, but she didn’t move. He felt her heart beating wildly and saw that her breathing was shallow.

“Mac?” she whispered as her eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Right here,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. She tried to sit forward, staring at him. “Just take it easy,” he said.

“The Coming Home group on Yahoo,” she said, holding on to his arm with her gloved hand, still breathless. “There were pictures of babies and parents everywhere. It’s an adoption group. Daniel was going to give up Little Gavin for adoption.”

“Adoption?” Mac said, frowning.

Isabelle nodded.

“I saw it,” she said, pointing at the unconnected mouse.
 

An adoption group for Daniel didn’t ring true. Character and action didn’t align. Mac took out his phone.

“The Coming Home group?” he said, bringing up the browser. A quick search and a few clicks and he was there. Isabelle put her glove back on. It was a forum and there were several active threads. He clicked on one. As Isabelle had seen, there were all sorts of pictures: babies and parents, different houses and cribs. He clicked on another thread. Discussions were going back and forth but virtually all the posts were started by the moderator. This one mentioned re-homing. “Re-homing?” Mac muttered. He scrolled down. Isabelle looked over his shoulder.
 
“This toddler is being
re-homed
,” he said.

“Re-homed?” Isabelle said, her breathing almost normal. “It sounds like regifting,” she said. Something clicked. The pieces of the puzzle came together. Mac’s eyes defocused and he stood. “Mac?” Isabelle said.

Character and action.
 

At the Green Earth Commune, there were no children over, say, the age of five. The protected servers and Daniel’s computers held valuable secrets. The money the Cyber Crime unit knew was there but couldn’t be traced had to come from somewhere.
 

The invisible means of support. Daniel taking his baby there. Daniel posting in a forum where children were ‘re-homed’.

“They’re selling them,” Mac said.

IT WAS INSANELY and ruthlessly easy
, thought Isabelle.
Put a sex-crazed man together with vulnerable women and then add a way to make profit
.

“We’re clear on this,” Mac said as he slowed the SUV. “Right?”
 

He pulled over on the road that led to the commune, dappled late afternoon sun filtering through the branches of the oaks. He let the right side of the car angle downward into the gravel at the shoulder. The tires crunched to a stop and he turned off the engine.

Mac was wearing one of the commune’s homemade shirts. He’d found it in Daniel’s wardrobe and though the long sleeves were too short, he’d rolled them up. Luckily, Daniel’s paunch had bumped him up a shirt size or two but, even so, the fabric stretched tight across Mac’s chest and around his biceps. He’d also exchanged his polished, lace-up shoes for some sandals with velcro closures.

“We’re clear,” Isabelle said nodding. Rather than drive all the way back downtown to drop her off, she’d agreed to wait in the SUV. The last time she’d visited the commune against Mac’s wishes, she’d regretted it. “
Very
clear.”

“This is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for,” he said. “Because of you, we’ve got it.” He took her hand and looked her directly in the eye. “But that’s as far as it goes.”

Isabelle nodded again.

“I know, Mac,” she said. “I
really
do. I have no intention of leaving this car.”

Sneak and peak, Mac had called it. Something about a federal crime and finding evidence for a search warrant. Mac had gone into profiling mode from the moment he’d made the connections between the commune, Daniel, and selling babies. And the building where they’d rescued Kayla and encountered Darren’s mom, who was also pregnant, seemed a natural.
 

Isabelle couldn’t agree more and yet…that wasn’t the real problem.

When she’d read Daniel, that’d been the furthest thing from his mind.

“
Isabelle
,” Mac said, the warning tone clear.

“I can’t get over that reading of Daniel,” she said quickly and shook her head. “But that’s it. Really.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. “Hurry back.”

•••••

Outside the kitchen, Geoffrey shook Maurice’s grip off his shoulder.
 

What had that been about?

In all their lives, Maurice had never so much as shook his hand.

And when did the health department have anything to do with the commune?

“It’s time for your shot,” Maurice said abruptly.

Geoffrey shot him a glare and then quickly looked up and down the hallway.

“For god’s sakes,
not so loud
,” he whispered harshly. He scowled at his brother. “What’s the
matter
with you today?”

And
was
it time for his Botox shot? It seemed early.

“You don’t want to fall behind,” Maurice hissed. “
Do you?
”

“Of course not,” Geoffrey answered quickly.

“Then I’ll see you
upstairs
,” Maurice said, turning away, and then he was gone.

•••••

Unlike the last time he’d been here, Mac simply walked up to the door of the medical clinic and opened it. Though all senses were on alert, he had strolled without hurry, dressed as though he might belong. But he couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d been here. He, Isabelle, and Kayla had retreated through the trees he’d just come through. Pursued by security people from the commune, they’d only narrowly escaped.

No sooner was Mac through the door, though, than he knew something was wrong.

It was dark.

He stopped just inside the entrance as it slowly closed behind him.

It was also completely silent.

Instinctively, he crouched as he inched his way forward. He took out his cell phone and used it as a flashlight. He definitely recognized the place. He passed the storage area where he’d grabbed a gurney and Isabelle had found scrubs. But it was empty.

“Damn,” he muttered, picking up the pace.

Quickly, he trotted down the middle of the dark aisle, swinging the phone from right to left. He opened one of the patient rooms at random.

Empty, not even a bed.

He ran, down to the nurse’s station. The computers were gone. He yanked open one drawer after another. Completely cleaned out.

Either the commune knew they’d been compromised or they’d expected someone to come.

Mac froze.

Isabelle
.

ISABELLE INVOLUNTARILY YELPED at the loud knock on the driver’s window. After Mac had left, she’d switched to the driver’s seat to be ready when he got back. Despite her reaction, hand on her chest, she turned expecting to see him. But instead, what she saw made her want to scream.

A security guard!

Instantly she fumbled for the door lock but the man must have already gripped the handle because the door quickly opened. She nearly fell out as it whooshed away from her. The guard grabbed her arm and yanked her out the rest of the way.

“
No
,” she tried to say but the word caught in her throat as she was shoved up against the back door, her left arm twisted painfully behind her. “Wait!” she said. “
Stop!
”

There was no vehicle on the road that she could see. He had to have been on foot. As she tried to squirm away, even the smallest movement caused pain to radiate in her shoulder and elbow.

“That
hurts
,” she tried, but the guard wasn’t paying attention to her.
 

“Yeah,” he said, “I found someone on the road.” Isabelle tried to look at him but he renewed his press into her back, shoving her harder against the SUV. “Bring her in?”

There was a hissing sound and a tiny beep.

“On the road?” said a tinny voice.
 

The guard had a radio.

“Yeah, sitting in a big, black SUV parked at the side of the road, under the cover of trees.”

“Where?” the voice said.

Is that Maurice?

“I’m not–” she tried, as the pain in her arm choked off the rest.

There was a moment of static and then a beep.

“Yes. Bring her in.”

•••••

Mac crashed through the thick grove of oaks and the underbrush. Though not pursued by shooters, he ran for everything in him. Not one week ago the medical clinic had been staffed, stocked, and operational. It’d also been guarded.

But not today.
 

Probably not since they’d rescued Kayla and it was not a coincidence.
 

Mac leaped over a low hedge rather than go around. Then he leaped again over a jumble of large roots. He slipped in the damned sandals and nearly went down, but with his right hand on the ground, he pushed up like a runner from a starting block–and kept running.

There was the SUV.

“
No
,” he muttered.
 

He could already see it was empty.
 

With a quick look up and down the road as he crossed it, he flew to the driver’s door and yanked it open.

Isabelle was gone.

He pounded the roof with his fist.

Damnit!

He quickly ducked inside.

No keys but–he reached to the floor in front of the passenger seat and grimaced as he lifted Isabelle’s purse.
 

She would never leave this.
 

He looked up the road to the commune.
 

Not if she’d had a choice.

AS THE GUARD hauled her up to the house, Isabelle could barely keep up.

“Just let me speak to Geoffrey,” she panted, but the man didn’t pause. “You’re
hurting
me.”

But the door flew open and they were met with startled looks from a few women in the hallway. One of them moved a little boy out of harm’s way. Under the shock of red hair, Darren’s eyes got huge. Isabelle had a moment to see recognition in his face just before she was dragged up the stairs.

Suddenly they were in the wide hallway with its endless doors as the security guard veered quickly left, keeping her off-balance. But as he threw the door open and pushed her through, Isabelle tried desperately to put on the brakes.

Oh no, no, no
.
Not here
.

Before she could even turn around, the door had slammed closed and she heard it lock. She made a frantic grab for the knob, twisting it back and forth but it wouldn’t move.
 

She spun and put her back to the door, trying not to panic.

“Oh god,” she muttered.
 

On the wall next to the door were the wooden paddle, the rattan cane, a leather strap, a yardstick, and the shock wand. She cringed away from them, sliding along the wall to the opposite side of the small room, putting as much distance between them and her as possible. Her hands clung to each other as she stared at the wand.

The pain it had inflicted had been excruciating–especially the readings of the children.

She couldn’t go through that again.

She put a hand over her pounding heart and another on the wall to steady herself.

Stop, Isabelle. Think.
 

But she couldn’t. Her mind was blanking.

Suddenly, she heard the doorknob move.
 

Oh god, no. Maurice had been quick!

The knob twisted as she stared at it but, when the door opened, it wasn’t Maurice.

“Geoffrey!” she breathed.

“
Hurry!
” he said, reaching for her.

She put her hand in his and he quickly reversed direction and tugged her after him.

•••••

Though he’d run from the SUV back to the medical clinic and from there to the commune itself, Mac forced himself to slow down. He’d be no help to Isabelle if he was caught.

Though he’d dressed to blend in, he stood out anyway. There just weren’t that many guys and none of his height. As he made his way into the mansion, he tried to smile and nod. For all anyone knew, he was a new member. They might even recall him or Isabelle from when they’d toured the place.

But the one thing he remembered right now was seeing two security guards enter a room at the top of the stairs. He fought the urge to bound up them, stepping quickly, one at a time. At the top, he remembered looking here for any clue about how the commune managed to survive. Now he knew. The only thing that mattered in
this
moment was finding Isabelle. And the room that those guards had gone into–he tensed as he rounded the corner of the hallway that led to that room–was the best place to start. Without hesitating, he strode directly to the door and just opened it.

“What took–” said the security guard sitting in front of the monitors. But as he turned to see Mac, he started to get up. “Hey, this area is off limits.”

In his baseball cap embroidered with the Green Acre logo and his black t-shirt with “Security” printed in bold white letters, it might seem to someone else that this was a security guard. But Mac had already observed them. These weren’t professional watchmen. They were commune members with outfits, with no background in defense or protection and likely no training either.

He was about to put that theory to the test.

The young man started to get up from his office chair.

“I know,” Mac said as he landed a hard, quick jab on the guy’s jaw.