Page 26 of The Preachers' Promise
I sense the other two staring at me, wanting to know what’s being said. I want to end this connection with Saint anyway. Even if he is helping, I still don’t like the guy.
“Let us know if there’s anything else,” he offers then ends the call.
Seems he feels the same way, too. Perhaps this is all on Zane, either way, I’m just glad they came through.
My phone buzzes again, this time with screenshots. Sure enough, they’re what we need.
“We’ve got the schedule and the schematics of the place.” I hold out my phone so Roman and Malachi can see it. “Looks like it has several exits, which makes sense in case of a fire. That means we can get out easily, if we choose one nearest to the road, and make a run for it.”
Roman clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “It’s not getting out that I fear will be the problem. It’s getting in and finding her before we get discovered.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need to be smart about it.” I scrub my hand over my mouth, thinking. “There must be people coming and going all the time. With this many staff onboard, they’ll have doctors and therapists, janitors and receptionists. I highly doubt they live onsite, so they must open the gates to get in and out. That’ll be a time of weakness in their security.”
Roman takes the phone from me to study the documents further.
“If the gates are opening and closing,” he says, “and people are in and out of the doors on various shifts, the patients probably don’t have free roam of the place, which means it won’t just be getting into the building that we have to worry about. We’re going to need to get into wherever they’re holding Ophelia, too.” He shakes his head. “It’s not going to be easy. I imagine they have different levels of security for the various areas, and we have no idea which she’s in.”
“Then we’ll have to find her,” Mal adds. “Maybe we should get our hands on some weapons and come back. If we go in there armed, no one is going to fuck with us.”
I shake my head. “It won’t work. The minute they see a gun, the whole place will go into lockdown. With this number of staff,someone will hit a panic button, and then the cops will be on us. We risk not only getting ourselves locked up, but also losing Ophelia for good.”
The possibility weighs heavily between us.
Malachi lifts his chin. “Look, someone’s going in.”
A man in his thirties, dressed entirely in white medical scrubs, stops in front of the gates. He has a lanyard around his neck, which he places against a sensor embedded in the wall. He steps back, and a moment later, the gates slowly open.
“That’s what we need,” Roman says. “One of those passes that guy is wearing.”
Malachi snatches the phone from Roman and scrolls down the staffing schedule. “Look at the number of people who work here. Do you think they all know each other? Like, if someone happened to be on site who looked like they worked there, but maybe people didn’t recognize him, would it raise any red flags?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What are you thinking? That we try to pass ourselves off as staff?”
“Maybe not all of us. That’ll get noticed. But one of us, yeah. The one who is least likely to cause suspicion.”
Mal and I both look straight at Roman. Out of the three of us, he’s definitely the one whose appearance is most socially acceptable. There’s no way Malachi can do it, with his jet-black hair, tattoos, black nails and eyeliner—though that’s barely visible today—and my size makes me instantly noticeable. I’m sure Rome will still get noticed, especially with the female staff members, and maybe some of the males. That tall Nordic combination of blond hair and green eyes always begs attention, but not in a bad way.
Roman bites the inside of his lip, thinking. “If they’ve got someone on reception, they’ll probably want me to sign in or something. I’m not just going to be able to walk right past them.”
“Do they have a receptionist?” Mal asks. “I presume they do for visitors.”
I look at the staffing schedule, and yes, they do. “It’s a woman called Janice Delray.”
Mal laughs. I give him a puzzled look, but he grins at me. “Okay, so we need a distraction.” Malachi winks. “Let’s assume Ms. Delray is as awestruck by you as most of the female population. I bet you can distract her.”
I cock an eyebrow in his direction. “So, I’m supposed to just waltz straight in there?”
He shrugs. “We’ll think of something. But first, we need to find someone Rome can borrow the identification of to gain entry.”
I blow out a breath and shake my head. “Mal, you’re acting as if this is going to be a cakewalk.” I’m worried he’s not thinking this through enough. We can’t risk making a mistake.
“It won’t be, but it is doable. Does the information tell us how long the people on the schedule have been working there?”
I frown. “No, it doesn’t give that kind of info.”
Roman shrugs. “Another call to Saint?”
Oh, fuck my life. “For real?”
