Death, Doom and Detention
Page 50Brooke grabbed me, her nails biting into my already sore wrist. We were going to have a serious talk about her nails. “Absolutely not. Something is wrong, Lor. It’s not him.”
Mr. Davis grabbed me and I grabbed Tabitha again. He seemed more than happy to get the heck out of Dodge, and Tabitha was in a complete state of shock. We climbed into his SUV and tore out of the parking lot.
Mr. Davis fished out his phone and was calling someone, probably the police.
Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to call my grandmother, but didn’t dare. Then my phone rang. It was her.
“Lorelei,” she said when I picked up, “are you okay?”
I wasn’t sure why I confided in her. It just kind of came out. “Cameron and Sheriff Villanueva have Jared.”
“I know, sweetheart. Where are you?”
“You know?” How did she know?
“Honey, where are you?”
“Brooke and I are with Mr. Davis.”
“Everything ready for what?” I asked, growing warier with every breath. What were they going to do?
“We just figured it out a little while ago, hon. We had to act fast. I’m so sorry we couldn’t get word to you, but we didn’t know where Jared was, if he would hear us or read a text if I sent one. There was just no way to know.”
“Well, he’s not here now.” Resentment hit and hit hard. I was out of the loop yet again. “What is going on?”
“Can Mr. Davis hear me?” she asked, and I glanced over at him. He was ordering someone to pull the fire alarm so the building would be evacuated completely.
“I don’t think so.”
“I can’t take the chance. I’ll explain everything when you get here, but for now, tell him you don’t know what’s going on.”
At least I wouldn’t be lying. I took in a deep breath that caught in my chest. “Fine.” I hung up. “Grandma wants you to take us to the church.”
He looked at me, surprised. “I was thinking the sheriff’s station.”
“The sheriff is going to meet us there,” I said. He was confused and I was right there with him.
I looked back, scanning the area for signs of Cameron and the sheriff. “I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t.”
He was angry. And worried. I could see it in his eyes. That, and fear. When Jared mentioned his brother, I sensed a jolt of fear rush through him. Not that I could blame him. From what Jared told us before, Mr. Davis had looked right into his eyes that day as he was taking Mr. Davis’s brother. And he had never forgotten him.
Just as we pulled into the church parking lot, I spotted Cameron and the sheriff coming up from a back road. They pulled around the side entrance, their tires kicking up dirt when they skidded to a stop. Several members of the Order were waiting, and I wondered how many were in on this.
When we pulled up, I climbed out of the SUV and headed to the side entrance with Brooke right behind me. Tabitha was in the backseat, staring, while Grandma rushed out the front door. She headed off Mr. Davis as he tried to follow us. I heard her talking to him, but didn’t stick around to find out what she said.
Out of sight of the main road, Cameron, Sheriff Villanueva, Granddad, and Mr. Walsh, one of the elders, carried Jared into the Sanctuary, down the stairs, and past the anterooms to the main rooms in the back of the massive underground structure. Jared was bleeding from the last blow Cameron had given him. He was bound from neck to ankles in industrial-strength chains with metal shackles that looked like something from a horror movie.
“Granddad, what is going on?”
“Lorelei,” he said, surprised, “get back. Are you crazy?” He looked around and spotted another member just coming into the anterooms. “Get her back!”
Betty Jo, Grandma’s best friend, rushed forward, took me by the shoulders, and started to drag me away.
I heard a sound come from Jared, deep and guttural like a growl, and saw Granddad take out a syringe. “Hold him if you can.” He plunged the needle into Jared’s leg. In return, Jared offered him a look I could only describe as pure, seething hatred.
Then he bucked under their grip. They lost their hold and he fell to the ground with a thud. He tried to roll onto his knees, but he overshot the move and almost toppled over. Shaking his head as though disoriented, he tensed, panting and gasping as the drug took effect. Then he collapsed, the chains rattling as he hit the floor.
“Get him in there,” Granddad said. “Quickly, before it wears off.”
They took him into the archive room. It was more like a vault than like a room, created to protect the ancient documents that had been passed down. But why there?
“Hurry, close the door.” Granddad rushed out.
Jared was already regaining consciousness and the men were struggling to close a door I had never even paid attention to. It was behind stacks of boxes and filing cabinets that had to be cleared before they could close it.