CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rocko
The box Mary had dropped off earlier that morning contained clothing, pictures, a baseball cap, and a mystery novel.
The impression he got from the pictures of Tom, Mary, and Asher together was that they honestly appeared to be a happy family.
They’d lived in Silver Bay, a town only twenty minutes south along the shores of Lake George.
Jagger and Ace were already busy on their computers, tracking down information on the construction company and the missing persons police report Mary had filed.
Apollo and Griffin were reaching out to a few contacts, which included Brick and their resident hacker, Spencer.
As Rocko quickly discovered, Ace was this team’s computer guru, and he’d watched Ace’s fingers fly across the keyboard, much like Spencer’s, which was mesmerizing.
Rocko still wasn’t sure what Ace’s mutation was, as the man was extremely private.
There was no way in hell Rocko would make the guy out himself by asking unless it was absolutely crucial.
Having been used as test subjects for most of their lives, they had had their right to self-determination taken away for a long time, and he wouldn’t perpetuate that.
Rocko sat outside on the deck alone with the box to get a feel for Tom’s belongings.
His ability worked in varied ways depending on the person he was hunting.
With Ghost, it was more like a trail he was following; directions and locations came to the surface rather quickly, but at times, the information came as pictures, feelings, a movie replaying in his mind.
Right now, Rocko was seeing a replay of events, but rather than locations, he received emotions, scenes, and impressions of past events.
Places and articles hold on to memories.
It was a fact that some people had suspected over the years, but Rocko’s brain had been fine-tuned by genetic mutations to pick up these vibrations.
It was disconcerting at first, as it always was.
His stomach lurched and his head swam as flashes of memories surfaced.
When he touched the book, Rocko saw an image of Mary sitting on a couch holding a baby.
She looked up and smiled as Tom walked into the room, carrying a baby bottle, and kissed Mary, then the baby’s forehead.
The book sat on the coffee table in front of them.
Then it shifted like a fast-forward scene, and the baby was older.
Asher was playing on the floor, a Christmas tree blinked in the background, and Mary was busy wrapping presents in colorful paper.
The book was on a shelf over the fireplace.
Rocko set the book down and touched the small stack of pictures.
He felt a sudden sharp pain in the back of his head, causing him to groan deeply.
Once the shock finally faded, Rocko rubbed the spot on his head, fully expecting to find blood on his palm, but curiously found none.
He wasn’t injured even though the pain had been as sharp as reality.
The door flew open, and Apollo came storming out onto the deck, Griffin right behind, teeth and claws bared. Apollo scanned the area before kneeling in front of Rocko.
“Where are you hurt?” he asked while searching over Rocko’s body.
“I’m fine, I think.”
“I felt your pain,” Apollo said, his eyes squinting as if trying to read Rocko’s mind.
“You did? It felt like I was hit in the back of the head by something hard, sharp like metal maybe, but I’m not bleeding, and there’s no injury,” Rocko said, rechecking his palm to confirm there was still no blood.
Apollo stood and thoroughly inspected Rocko’s head.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked.
“No, it was sharp and fast. Then gone,” he assured, giving Apollo’s hand a squeeze.
“There’s not a scratch.”
“I don’t sense anyone in the area,” Griffin said as he neared them. “Are you okay?”
More team members came running out of the house, sensing the alarm.
Rocko looked down at his other hand. He was still holding the pictures; on top was a picture of Tom standing in front of his work truck, smiling. “Levy Construction” was written along the side of the door.
“I think I know how Tom was subdued and who had a hand in it,” Rocko said as he handed Apollo the picture. “He was hit in the back of his head by someone at Levy Construction. Tom didn’t abandon his family, I’m sure of that. He was taken.”
***
Apollo
He could still feel his heart racing its way out of his chest. When Apollo had sensed Rocko’s sudden pain, he nearly ripped the door off its hinges to get to him, prepared to tear any threat apart, limb from limb.
Waves of relief flowed over him once he’d confirmed for himself that Rocko wasn’t physically injured. Huh. It seemed Tom hadn’t simply taken off on his wife and young daughter. This had turned into an urgent search-and-rescue mission, and they’d start with Levy Construction.
“According to the police report, there was no sign of foul play or leads, and after a couple of weeks, the case lost steam. Tom was lumped into the dredges of society, men who abandoned their families and responsibilities and took off for greener pastures,” Ace said.
“There was little interest in finding him.”
“It’s a sad fact that the percentage of men abandoning their girlfriends, wives, and children is ever growing,” Renee said, and Apollo could hear the sadness in her voice.
“Scum,” Hendrix growled.
“Assholes,” Griffin agreed. “What kind of man does shit like that?”
“Not a real man,” Blade said.
“One who deserves to have his bell rung,” Ace growled.
“Agreed,” Apollo said. “Right now, we need to get eyes on Levy Construction. I want to gather as much information as possible on the owner, employees, families, and contacts. Hell, I want to know every step they take. Who they associate with, what they do at two a.m. when they think no one’s watching. ”
“On it,” Griffin said as he checked the gun he had strapped around his ankle, hidden in his boot. “Want to take a car ride, Rocko? This should be right up your alley. A little recon, Detective?”
“Definitely,” Rocko agreed. “Let me go get my Glock, it’s locked up in the trailer.
Maybe with any luck, I can catch a stray direction or impression once we get to the location.
I’d love to get my hands on the work truck Tom drove in that picture.
He’d likely been using it to get to work that day when he was kidnapped. ”
“How do we know which one he was driving?” Jagger asked. “I’m sure they have more than one work truck.”
“Wait,” Rocko said as he reached for the box with Tom’s belongings. “Here it is.”
Apollo looked at the picture Rocko handed to him of Tom standing in front of his work truck.
“Seventy-nine. It’s right here on the side of the truck,” Apollo confirmed. “Helpful.”
“I’ll take any help we can get,” Rocko chuckled.
“Yes, let’s go have a look around,” Hendrix said.
“You coming along?” Griffin asked the resident hippie.
“Hell yeah. You two might need backup.”
“Backup? I’m not planning on confronting anyone today,” Rocko said.
“Okay, diversion then. When you need to go looking for that truck, I can pretend to be a customer or some shit,” Hendrix stated.
“Whatever, come on,” Griffin chuckled.
Hendrix was always worried about his contribution to the team, as he considered himself less capable than the others without an active mutation.
“Report in when you arrive,” Apollo ordered.
“Will do,” Rocko said, and Apollo grabbed his hand as he walked by, pulling him close. “And don’t go doing anything stupid.”
“Me.” Rocko feigned indignation. “Stupid.”
“You know what I mean. You almost gave me a heart attack this morning, so for my sanity, be careful.”
Rocko flashed that sexy damn grin of his.
“We’ll behave ourselves,” he said before quickly kissing Apollo and following the others out of the house.
As he heard the truck pull away from the compound, Apollo joined Ace and Jagger at their computers.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
***
Rocko
The drive to Levy Construction didn’t take long, and Rocko was surprised by how uneventful it was.
He’d expected Griffin to take a few shots at him for sleeping with Apollo or any number of other things the guy found disagreeable about him.
However, over the last few days, the typically gruff, angry guy had ceased his verbal attacks on Rocko.
“Levy Construction opened its doors in late 1986 by Ronald Levy and is now operated by his son, Gerald,” Hendrix said as he relayed the information Ace was sending through to his laptop. “Ronald died in 2022, but there’s no cause of death listed. Weird.”
“Maybe it was natural causes,” Griffin said.
“Could be, but the guy was in his fifties,” Hendrix said. “Just seems young.”
“Definitely interesting that they didn’t list a cause,” Rocko agreed. “Any other family members?”
“Nope. Apparently, Gerald’s parents divorced when he was a kid, and he grew up with his father,” Hendrix continued. “The company financials look bleak as hell, man. Like, close to bankruptcy kind of bad.”
“How were the financials of the business when the father was running things?” Rocko asked.
“The business seemed to have been thriving up until last year.”
“Wonder what happened,” Griffin said.
“Something serious. It could have been the fallout of the pandemic,” Hendrix suggested.
“True, but they were fine in 2022 when the father died through to the middle of 2025. If the business was going to fail due to the pandemic, wouldn’t that have occurred earlier or at least shown some cracks, considering businesses shut down around March 2020?” Griffin asked.
“You’d think so,” Rocko agreed. “We need to have a closer look at their books because something doesn’t feel right about their sudden decline.”
“Ace is digging deeper,” Hendrix confirmed.
“How many employees do they have?” Griffin asked.
“At their height, thirty-six, but recent reports state only six.”
“Shit, that’s one hell of a drop,” Griffin said. “Something went south fast.”
“We need to figure out what that was,” Rocko stated. “It could be key to what’s going on around here.”
“Okay, we’re coming up on their headquarters,” Griffin said as he slowed their truck. “I’ll drive by first, and then we’ll find somewhere to set up and lay low.”
“Sounds good,” he agreed.
It was a quiet rural community, with lots of trees and space, and Rocko wasn’t sure what he’d expected when they drove by, but the run-down building they passed wasn’t even close.
“Are we sure this is the right place?” he asked.
“Yep, that’s where Levy Construction’s head office is registered,” Hendrix confirmed.
Rocko took stock of what he was seeing. A single-story warehouse structure with a chain-link fence reaching out around both sides and back into what had to be the yard where the work trucks and machinery were kept, though he could see neither.
The front of the building looked worn, faded, and unkept, with patches of long grass growing wild and dirty windows closed up tight.
The sign over the front door had cracks, and whatever stenciling had been under the name plate had long since peeled away. The “vy” in Levy was almost transparent. The sign looked ready to fall to the ground with the next slight breeze.
“Looks abandoned,” Griffin said.
“What time is it?” Rocko asked; he’d left his watch on the bedside table in Apollo’s bedroom. Even this morning, after a night spent exploring every carnal desire he’d ever dreamt of and a few that were new to him, Rocko was bound to have missed a few details getting dressed.
“Half past two,” Hendrix said.
“Still the workday for most,” Rocko said. “Where is everyone? There are no vehicles out front, and by the layer of dirt and leaves, it doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while. Let’s wait for nightfall and have a look around. In the meantime, we can check out what they have for security.”
“On it,” Griffin said as he pulled their truck away from the building.
“Hell, why would they need security?” Hendrix asked. “Anything worth stealing has rusted. How could this have happened so fast?”
“Don’t know, but it’s our job to figure that out,” Rocko said.
They’d find a place to park that still had views of the building but kept them hidden from prying eyes. Rocko felt like he was back on the job, which wasn’t entirely unwelcome.