Page 69 of Sloth
“Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Maxi-Pad.”
“That’s Mr. Maxi-Pad to you.”
For the next hour, Sloan followed Max’s relentless pace, spitting out anything and everything she’d learned about her eldest sister, and the place they were about to visit. Max was thorough. It was like talking with a questioning toddler.What’s this? Who’s that? Elaborate.
Sloan went into great detail about her long-lost sister. Mary and Flint had escaped the Syndicate around thirty years ago. Sloan was a toddler at the time, but Daisy had been nine—the eldest. She was the caregiver of the brood, always helping the nuns with the younger children. When Daisy sensed despair, she would do anything in her power to help that person feel hope again. Sloan confessed that her family had believed Daisy died in the fire that provided cover for their escape. Only months ago did the family realize she’d been alive all this time. Alive, and working for the enemy.
“You can’t imagine how it feels to know we’ve left one of us behind,” Sloan said as they came upon a long deserted road.
“I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. You do.” She sighed. “Of course you do. That was stupid of me to say.”
Max gave her a small smile and took his compass out.
While he was orientating, Sloan said, “I set Daisy a place at our table last night. I think we will keep doing it at the family dinner until she’s sitting with us. Do you think that’s silly?”
When he met her eyes, they were full of determination. “No. It’s one thing I love about you Sloan. You don’t give up.”
Max went back to his compass and scratched his head. “I guess we head east still. This should be the road they’ve left the car on.”
They continued to walk until a car pulled up and stopped to ask if they were lost. Max replied that they’d detoured a little too much on their hike but were looking for their car. Between the two of them, they worked out that, yes, this was the correct road and, yes, the driver had seen a white sedan parked not far back. He offered the two of them a lift and deposited them five minutes further down the road.
They waved to the driver as he drove off. When he was gone, Sloan frowned at the car. No people in it. So far so good.
“Do you think that’s it?” she asked. “Are we in the right place?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Max went to one side of the vehicle, and Sloan the other. She inspected the tires.
“No key,” she said.
“I got it.” He caught her eye over the car roof with a grin.
Relief melted through her. Thank God. By the time they sat in the car, exhaustion battered her defenses, but resting would have to wait. They had a girl to save.
Nineteen
Max had hearda lot from Sloan on the hike and stayed silent most of the drive while he processed. They were in a bind with Sloan’s sister. The woman was a psychopath. She didn’t blink or think twice about doing the Syndicate’s bidding, even if that meant kidnapping and torturing a scientist’s innocent daughter. The old Max would have discarded Daisy as being a lost cause. But the new Max, the one who failed to have his friend’s back, that Max knew dire consequences were the result. That part of him understood the Lazarus family shouldn’t give up on Daisy. It would be hard. It might be impossible. But he had to support Sloan.
After stopping at a rest stop to eat, drink and change into some fresh civilian clothes that had been left in the car, Max and Sloan were on their way to the St. Peter’s Academy boarding school. It was late afternoon on Sunday, and they were confident they’d find Beatrix in her dormitory studying. Sloan told Max the girl was an over-achiever and rarely commented on her Facebook about attending social events. Knowing her father was a brainy scientist, it wasn’t a far stretch to believe his daughter was smart and diligent.
The school was set on a sprawling green estate, complete with tennis courts and other sports fields. The residential buildings were part of a big red brick converted abbey. Other buildings on the campus took the same old style architecture. They parked the car in the visitor lot out the front.
“Not many around,” he noted as they got out of the vehicle. As he stood by the open door, surveying the lot, he tucked his Glock into the back of his waistband, being sure to cover it with his jacket. Tension creeped into his shoulders. “With this many cars in the lot, I would have thought I’d see more people on the property.”
“Probably all just inside,” Sloan replied. “You’re being paranoid. Relax.”
Still with his eyes on the lot, he counted cars. Maybe twelve. How many were expected for a school like this during summer? Perhaps a few teachers were still there, despite school hours finished for the day. Maybe a few students had vehicles. He hesitated. Maybe he was being paranoid. But paranoia could save your life.
They checked around to see if anyone watched, and then Sloan leaned into the car and retrieved a new gun from the pack of supplies. Whoever Parker had as an assistant must be trusted, paid well, or terrified of them, to run these kinds of errands. Max wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with this kind of extracurricular help. It was a potential leak and threat to all of them.
“You ready?” Sloan asked. “The girl’s dormitory is that one.”
His sense of wrongness followed them the entire walk toward the building nestled between lush trees and white flowered shrubs. An old Victorian style manor, it must have been made at the turn of the previous century. As they climbed the steps, the front double doors opened. His hand twitched for his firearm, but stopped as a gaggle of girls in summer shorts came bursting out. There were four of them, all holding an oar and some swimming supplies. Must be a lake around there. Sloan jumped behind him to avoid being knocked by the cluster, squashing herself behind the door and the wall of the building.
“Excuse me, ladies,” he said, holding the door wide.
