Chapter 2 - BASEMENT 17By 1:12 a.m., rain had swallowed Westbridge University.
The campus looked nothing like the place I remembered from move-in day.
Then, there had been banners hanging from brick buildings, parents carrying boxes, freshmen laughing beneath oak trees, and Lily telling me for the tenth time that she was perfectly capable of carrying her own desk lamp.
Now the sidewalks were empty.
Security vehicles crawled slowly through the rain.
Every building seemed to be watching.
I parked three blocks from the old athletics complex.
Marcus had wanted me to wait for police.
Normally, I would have agreed.
But there was one problem.
No detective had contacted me.
When I called the city police department myself, the dispatcher said the incident had been classified as a university medical emergency, not an assault.
Somebody had never filed the report Pike claimed had been filed.
That told me everything.
I pulled my coat tighter and approached the building from the rear.
The old athletics center had officially been closed for renovation two years earlier. Yellow signs blocked the main entrances.
But the south service door had fresh scratches around the lock.
Someone was still using it.
I didn’t break in.
I didn’t need to.
A student exited carrying two garbage bags and nearly walked straight into me.
He looked frightened before I said anything.
“Excuse me.”
He jumped.
“Building’s closed.”
“So why are you inside?”
He glanced toward the security camera above us.
Then he hurried away.
Interesting.
The door had not closed completely behind him.
I caught it.
Inside, the hallway smelled like bleach and damp concrete.
My phone buzzed.
Marcus.
Lily awake briefly. Asked for you. Be careful.
I typed back:
Tell her I’m coming.
I hated leaving her.
But if somebody had attacked my daughter over something hidden here, I needed to know what it was before they destroyed it.
I descended one flight of stairs.
Then another.
Basement.
A long corridor stretched ahead.
Storage rooms lined both sides.
B12.
B13.
B14.
I heard voices.
I stepped behind an open maintenance door.
Two men walked past.
One was wearing campus-security clothing.
The other wore a Westbridge football jacket.
“…Pike said everything gets cleared tonight.”
“What about the locker?”
“Already handled.”
“And the girl?”
“Mercer’s alive.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
My breathing stopped.
The men continued.
“She remember anything?”
“Doesn’t matter. Coach says nobody believes a concussed freshman over us.”
They disappeared around the corner.
I remained motionless.
That sentence told me Lily’s injuries were not accidental.
It also told me more than one person was involved.
I waited thirty seconds.
Then continued.
B15.
B16.
Finally—
B17.
The door was metal.
No window.
A digital keypad had been installed beside it.
The strangest thing?
Everything else in the building looked twenty years old.
That lock was new.
I examined the frame.
Then heard footsteps behind me.
“Colonel Mercer.”
I turned.
Chief Pike stood at the far end of the hallway.
Two security officers were behind him.
He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I thought I asked you to remain at the hospital.”
“No. You suggested it.”
“This building is restricted.”
“Why?”
“Construction.”
I looked around.
“No construction equipment.”
Pike walked closer.
“You are trespassing.”
“My daughter scratched B17 into her arm before she lost consciousness.”
That stopped him.
Exactly as I expected.
His face drained slightly.
“You searched her?”
“The hospital documented her injuries.”
“Colonel—”
“What’s behind this door?”
“Storage.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
One of the younger officers looked at Pike.
That interested me.
He wasn’t expecting refusal.
Pike stepped closer.
“You have no authority here.”
“Neither do you over a criminal investigation you failed to report.”
His expression changed.
Small.
Cold.
“You’ve been calling city police.”
“Yes.”
“That could complicate things.”
“For whom?”
He didn’t answer.
I glanced toward the younger officer.
His name tag read COLE.
Nathan Cole.
The officer who supposedly found Lily.
I faced him.
“You found my daughter?”
His eyes dropped.
“Officer Cole.”
Pike snapped, “Don’t answer.”
That was mistake number three.
Because innocent security chiefs don’t stop witnesses from answering basic questions.
Cole swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where?”
“The east stairwell.”
“Was she conscious?”
Pike stepped between us.
“This conversation is over.”
I kept looking at Cole.
“Did she say anything?”
Cole’s face tightened.
Then, quietly, he said, “She kept saying one word.”
Pike spun around.
“Enough.”
“What word?”
Cole met my eyes.
“Locker.”
Pike grabbed his shoulder.
Cole pulled away.
“What locker?” I demanded.
Cole looked at B17.
Pike cursed.
Then everything happened quickly.
A fire alarm exploded overhead.
Red lights started flashing.
Pike turned toward the stairs.
“Evacuate.”
Nobody moved.
Smoke began seeping beneath the door of B17.
Someone had started a fire inside.
I shoved past Pike.
“Call the fire department.”
“The suppression system will handle it.”
“Open the door!”
Smoke thickened.
Cole stepped toward the keypad.
Pike blocked him.
“That room contains university property.”
Cole stared at him.
“You said it was empty.”
The younger officer’s voice had changed.
Fear had become suspicion.
I grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall.
The keypad beeped suddenly.
Cole had entered a code.
The lock released.
Pike shouted, “Don’t!”
I opened the door.
Smoke rolled toward us.
The room was larger than expected.
Metal lockers lined two walls.
Filing cabinets stood in the center.
A small desk was burning.
Someone had poured accelerant over stacks of documents.
Cole activated a suppression system.
Water sprayed from overhead.
Pike remained outside.
He looked like a man watching twenty years of secrets dissolve.
I entered.
“Mercer!” Cole yelled.
I covered my mouth and searched.
Locker numbers.
Then I noticed a row near the back.
One door stood slightly open.
Number 117.
I pulled it open.
Empty.
Almost.
A piece of pink fabric was caught near the hinge.
I recognized it instantly.
Lily’s backpack.
She had carried the same pale-pink backpack since senior year of high school because she refused to let me replace something “that still worked perfectly.”
I reached deeper.
Nothing.
Then my fingertips hit something taped beneath the shelf.
A tiny USB drive.
I removed it.
Behind me, Pike entered the room.
His eyes went directly to my hand.
For half a second, we both understood.
This was what Lily had hidden.
Pike took one step forward.
“Give that to me.”
“No.”
“That is university property.”
“My daughter hid it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The piece of her backpack says otherwise.”
His eyes hardened.
Nathan Cole moved beside me.
“Chief, maybe we should wait for police.”
Pike turned on him.
“You work for me.”
Cole shook his head.
“Not like this.”
Sirens approached outside.
Real police this time.
Pike stared at us.
Then he did something I hadn’t expected.
He smiled.
“You think that drive matters?”
“Apparently you do.”
“Whatever was on it is gone.”
“How would you know?”
The smile disappeared.
He realized his mistake too late.
Cole whispered, “Chief…”
Pike backed toward the door.
I slipped the drive into my pocket.
Then my phone rang.
Marcus.
I answered.
His voice was urgent.
“Daniel, get back here.”
“What happened?”
“Lily woke up.”
Relief surged through me.
Then Marcus continued.
“She’s terrified.”
“Of what?”
“She can’t speak because of the surgery prep, but she wrote something.”
“What?”
Marcus hesitated.
“She wrote: Dad, they’re coming to the hospital.”
I looked at Pike.
He was already walking toward the stairs.
May you like
And suddenly I understood.
The attack wasn’t finished.
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