By Audra Beberman
Chapter Eight
Jax held out an unfolded scrap of paper to Bobbie.
"Where did you find this?"
"In his breast pocket." The paper was badly charred and Bobbie shuddered to think how close the flames had been to Jerry's skin. She looked down at the paper and saw that it was practically illegible.
"The only thing I can say about that paper," Jax said, "is that the handwriting is definitely Jerry's, I'd know that clear, neat writing anywhere."
Bobbie looked down at the paper again. Yes, plainly, it was Jerry's writing. It was just like the writing on the jewelry receipt. She sighed and read the paper aloud as best she could "...The Keeper...Lucky....Br...Ton...Chloe, Lu... Bob....Luc...."
"It's almost as though it was a perfectly ordinary list and Jerry was sending out perfectly ordinary invitations to a perfectly ordinary party. Except for 'The Keeper' what the hell does that mean?"
Bobbie put the paper on the desk and said, "I certainly don't know, but maybe when Jerry is taken off the ventilator, he'll tell us. Maybe it has to do with that key we found. Let's keep them both safe." With that, Bobbie walked out of the library. Jax sat looking at the note with a perplexed expression. Bobbie reentered the library with a surgical specimen bag she got from the adjacent nurse's supply closet. She took the note and placed it carefully in the bag, and then sealed it shut. She handed it to Jax who put it in his pocket. Together they left the library to go get dinner and some black coffee from the cafeteria.
Luke drove like a maniac, not a particularly unusual occurrence, but this was still exceptionally fast. The convertible top of his rent-a-wreck just about flew off its hinges, as Luke headed north on highway thirty-eight, a road that looked like any other highway in America. Except for the fact that this highway ended in front of what was one of the tallest mountain peaks in the Rockies, in the heart of the Sangre de Cristo mountains in Taos. Even Luke, with his blasé, seen-it-all attitude was awestruck as the mountains glowed silver in the moonlight and he slowed the speeding car to gape. If he'd had time, he would have stopped to appreciate it further. But Luke Spencer was a man on a mission.
A little flattery will definitely take you places, Luke thought as he drove on. A few well chosen words to the cub reporter at KTAO and he had all the information he could want on Mr. Jasper Jacks and his whereabouts, or at least as much as the reporter knew. The fire had been in a local airport that catered to private planes in a town called Angel Fire. The rest Luke figured out for himself.
Luke pulled up to the Arapahos Memorial Hospital entrance and drove past it. He abandoned the car in a loading zone. It was late and there was no reason to think there would be deliveries until the morning. As Luke scanned the lobby of the quiet, yet large hospital, he noted the Native American art on the walls, the positions of the security cameras, the quiet hum of the people in the main visitors lounge, the number of guards, and lastly, the locations of exits and stairs. He didn't expect to need the information, but he felt caution was always advisable when facing the unknown. He quickly slipped onto an elevator marked "East Wing." It seemed that's where the ICU and Burn Center was in this hospital. Also, it was on the top floor - closest to the heli-pad. Too bad one of the Jacks boys didn't have a helicopter around right now, Luke thought.
The doors of the elevator slid open almost silently, and Luke poked his head out to see if he would be stopped immediately. Not a sign of a nurse anywhere, he thought with pleasure, this place was a lot less difficult to sneak around in than good old GH. Although sneaking wasn't half as much fun unless you did it with difficulty. There was a set of monitors and a lone attendant with his back to Luke. The monitors flashed from room to room. There seemed to be about seven ICU patients, and the camera was mounted in the upper left corner of each room. Luke perused the names on the placards outside each room and slipped into Jerry's room.
His brother-in-law was hooked up to every conceivable type of equipment in just about every available spot on his body. Tubes that ran from large machines even disappeared under Jerry's sheets. Luke didn't want to imagine where they went or why. The monitors quietly blipped Jerry's heartbeat and the respirator's bellows sighed as the helped him breathe. Luke was astonished to see his usually energetic and give-'em-hell friend flat on his back and helpless. Luke slumped into the chair under the camera, careful to stay out of its view. He really is my friend, as much as he's my brother-in-law. Too bad I didn't realize it until now.
"Come on, pal," Luke whispered, "fight."
Despite his age, or maybe because of it, John Jacks was stubborn and tenacious. He spent the greater part of two days piecing together the information he had from various files in Jerry's computer. So far he had learned that there was a person holding as few as three or as many as seven captives in a hidden location underground in New Mexico. John had called some friends he knew at Los Alamos to acquire survey maps, aerial photos and satellite photos of New Mexico. The maps were being sent air messenger for a pretty penny, and he'd have them in a matter of hours. His scientist friends couldn't say the best place in the state for a location like the one Jerry had described, but they were certain it wasn't within one hundred miles of Los Alamos, too dangerous and unstable from the underground testing. Ok, that still left thousands of miles in New Mexico to search. He ruled out the desert - too much topography constantly shifting and changing. So now John had a better idea of who and where, something underground in northeastern New Mexico ... and someone called "The Keeper." Interesting that Jerry had invented a game about this person. Why was this so important to Jerry? Suddenly, a thought came to him.
He rushed to the door and called, "Lucas? Lucas?" If he didn't have the answer, and it wasn't in the files, maybe it was in the game. And who better to figure out Jerry's clues than his son? After all, Lucas already knew how to play... now he had to play to win!
Chloe tried to find a comfortable position in her bound and blindfolded state. But with her arms behind her, the noise from the plane all around her, and the seats made of what felt like concrete, that was a tall order. Finally, though, she fell asleep from sheer, numb exhaustion. When she woke, she was being roughly shoved and poked. Someone picked her up and carried her to yet another car. As close as she could tell, she hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, although her captors did allow her the use of the restroom and drinks of water. After another long drive, the car stopped and Chloe was taken from the car, this time there was no manhandling, no abuse. Her hands were unbound. As she felt the painful tingle of circulation returning to her hands, she noted the air was cooler and crisper than her previous locations. She smelled pine and fresh air before she was brought into a place that smelled like a hospital. All antiseptic and clean. She could tell she was riding in some sort of elevator and it went a long way down before it stopped with a gentle hiss of its air brakes.
A hand on her elbow propelled Chloe down a long corridor that echoed to the sound of her footsteps. Her captor's feet seemed not to make a sound. Suddenly, they stopped. She heard the hiss of a door and was pushed gently inside.
A smooth, unaccented voice said, "Chloe, I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you this way. Just be a good girl and you'll be fine." With that her captor turned and left the room. Yet she sensed another presence in the room. She reached up quickly to pull the blindfold from her eyes, and was astonished at what she saw. A dark haired woman on the bed by the far wall looked up with large, dull brown eyes, and a vacant expression on incredibly beautiful features.
"Hannah?"
