When they reached one of the mammoth metal-plate doorways, Bowie looked up at him expectantly.
“We can’t go in there, remember?” Casey reminded his companion.
In response, Bowie whined and pawed at the ground.
“Nope. No can do.”
Bowie whined some more.
“What is up with you today?” Casey asked. “By me, right now.”
This time, he did get a roll of doggy eyes, but Bowie obeyed his command while making it clear Casey was missing out.
He made a note to return later with the keys. An animal had probably somehow gotten trapped inside the cement structure. Not a common occurrence, but also not unlikely.
Originally, a network of underground passageways had connected all of the battlements so that soldiers would be protected during battles that ended up never happening. Several of them had been filled in and closed off, but not all of them. Most of the public had no idea they still existed, but those that grew up on the island did. And there was always a new rumor floating around about secret unmapped rooms and tunnels.
Casey took one last look at the four-inch-thick iron door. The lock appeared secure; if there was a creature trapped inside, it hadn’t come through the obvious entrance. He’d check again when he returned with gloves and a trash bag.
SIXTEEN
GABRIEL
Thursday
The cobwebsof last night’s disjointed dreams—dreams that had inexplicably featured Ranger Man and faceless men chasing him—clung uncomfortably to Gabe’s skin. He raised his hand and swiped at his face as if he could make the strands of memory fade faster. Immediately and painfully, he regretted not taking a second handful of pain medication before he’d crawled into bed.
“Mother of hell,” he rasped, letting his hand flop back onto the mattress.
Trying to keep his groans to a minimum, Gabe gingerly pushed the covers to the side and swung his legs out from under them so that he was perched on the edge of the bed. The floor was chilly under his bare feet, and the sharp cold swept the last twitchy filaments of his dream away.
“Damn, I’m getting old.”
While he didn’t consider himself to be out of shape, he needed more exercise than he’d been getting, and spending thetwo prior nights in the car hadn’t helped. Another reason to quit the game: Extracting himself wasn’t as easy as it used to be.
The second thing he regretted was the same as the first. He needed to remember to have the big bottle of ibuprofen as close as possible. Sucking in a breath, he perked up as the heady scent of fresh-brewed coffee dragged him into full consciousness.
Gabriel savored the dark woodsy promise of a hot cup of joe. He wanted coffee almost more than he needed pain medication. Moving slowly, he found that last evening’s clothes had fallen from the bed onto the floor. With great care, he got dressed, then dug through his bag for the ibuprofen.
Before leaving the bedroom, he straightened the covers—it was the polite thing to do.
“Good mornin’,” Elton said from the comfort of his recliner. An off-white stoneware mug sat on a small table at Elton’s elbow, steam languidly rising from it like an offering to the gods. “Coffee’s on, help yourself.”
A pair of reading glasses was perched on his nose, and an e-reader lay on his lap. From where Gabe was standing, he couldn’t tell what Elton was reading. For some reason, he imagined it was Louis L’Amour or Zane Grey; classic westerns seemed like something Elton would enjoy.
“It’s morning, anyway,” Gabriel muttered, setting the book question aside for the moment. He hobbled into the kitchen and poured coffee into a mug that matched Elton’s. Drink in hand, he returned to the living room and eased slowly onto the couch. With every step, his muscles loosened up a little more.
“A bit sore this morning?” Elton asked.
“Like I was taken around the back of the woodshed,” Gabe confirmed. He scooted backward and propped his shoulders against the cushions behind him.
“It’ll pass. At least that bruise on your forehead looks betterthis morning,” Elton said with more confidence than Gabriel felt. “Are you planning on working on the boat today?”
His body screamed no, but mentally Gabriel agreed that yes, he was planning on putting his back completely out. His entire body out. He nodded anyway.
“If Lundin gives you a hard time about the deed, tell him to give me a ring.”
The mention of the deed reminded Gabriel he had a living great-aunt that Elton knew about and he didn’t. He opened his mouth to ask for more information, but Elton spoke first.
