Chapter Twenty-Four
Romy
I open the door to our suite, expecting to find Solomon lurking. To my great relief, there’s no one around. Since I know the other end of the yacht, past the lounge, stairs, and elevator is Solomon’s owner’s quarters, I make sure to avoid that. The last thing I want is to get caught somewhere alone with that horrible man.
Making my way over to a nondescript placard on the wall, I learn that the deck above us houses the wellness center, gym, and cinema. I decide checking any of those places out won’t be suspicious and take the elevator up. The elevator, which smells of citrus, spits me out in a small area with signs pointing left for the wellness center and gym, whereas the right takes you to the cinema. There are glass doors that lead into each area.
I head for the wellness center first.
With my plush slippers still on, I’m able to sneak around soundlessly.
Upon entering, I’m met with the smell of peppermint. In the front area, there are a couple of white sitting chairs and a shelving unit neatly filled with towels, flip-flops, and a basket of lotions and other toiletries. Beyond that is a narrow hallway. I make my way through, stopping to peek in the open sauna room. The peppermint scent is stronger here. Opposite the sauna room is a plunge bath and massage area with two tables. I continue toward what must be the salon when I hear Ava’s voice, stopping me cold in my tracks.
“That’s it,” Ava purrs. “A little eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. Voilà. You’re beautiful, hon.”
I peek to discover one of her “girls” sitting in a chair as Ava fusses over her makeup. The black-haired girl stares at me—blank and empty inside.
Why is she dressing them up?
I don’t like the idea of this strange woman dolling these girls up when men like Solomon Grayhawk prowl about, without his wife in tow, no less. Backing away from the salon, I turn on my heel and slip out the doors of the wellness center. A quick peek into the gym windows yields nothing aside from an array of unused machinery. The next stop is the cinema.
Before I reach the light-colored wooden door, I stop to listen first. Beyond the door are voices, this time male. One is recognizable. Caius. I turn the knob and open it a bit to listen in.
“…I know, Ted. I’m being careful.”
Ted’s here?
The mysterious, I’m-friends-with-everybody-including-my-dad, Ted?
“We better get going before we’re seen alone together,” Ted says lowly. “Too many eyes of people I don’t know or trust around here.”
Realizing they’re about to come out, I hurry back the way I came, nearly busting my ass when my poor shoe choice slips on the floor. I scramble toward the stairwell, but since the elevator door is open, I dip inside there instead, quickly mashing the button to take me back to the floor where our room is on.
Male voices grow closer, but the elevator doors close before they reach me. My heart hammers wildly in my chest. I can’t believe I almost got caught spying on them. What were they even discussing anyway? What does Caius need to be careful about?
My original thoughts of Ted being with the CIA resurface. Maybe Caius is undercover and their clandestine meeting was to go over their next steps. I roll my eyes at my runaway imagination. Caius isn’t a good man. Definitely not some government plant. That means Ted must be an equally bad guy, which I already figured considering the company he keeps. Unfortunately, my own father was seen with the guy, and I don’t know what to think of that. For now, I lock it away to ruminate over for another time.
The elevator dings when I reach my intended floor. When the doors open, I find myself staring straight into the beady eyes of none other than Solomon Grayhawk. His face splits into a wolfish grin that sends a tremble of fear through my spine.
“You look lost,” he says, stepping closer, stopping the door from automatically closing with his foot. “Need some help, Miss Langston?”
I force a polite smile, though I can feel it wobbling. “No. Popped into the wellness center to check it out, but it was full. Headed back to our suite to get ready for dinner tonight.”
He studies me silently for an uncomfortable long few seconds before giving me a nod. “Very well. I look forward to seeing you soon then.”
I brush past him, disgusted when our bodies touch, trading places with him. He steps into the elevator and watches me intently until the doors close. As soon as he’s gone from my presence, I’m able to breathe more easily. I start for our suite but then have a new idea.
Maybe I’ll find something in his quarters.
What am I even looking for?
Nothing in particular. Just more puzzle pieces. It’s all a vague collection of parts, but eventually, I’ll collect enough that it all makes sense. This feels like an opportunity I may never have again. Without a second thought, I rush toward his side of the yacht.
The hallway takes me to a crossroads. To the left is a small lounge with big windows and access to the deck. Straight ahead looks to be the way into the bedroom suite. On the right is a neat, pristine office with a modern, light wood desk in front of a high-back white leather desk chair. The gray and white rug is artfully sewn into a cursive G. Two sitting chairs are opposite the desk. Behind the desk is an enormous painting of a child peeking out of a wicker box, both eyes blackened like that of a panda bear.
What the hell?
Knowing what I do about Solomon, the picture makes me nauseous to look at. It may be an artist’s rendering of something imagined. Or it could be a replication of a real person. Either way, the whole thing feels sick and wrong.
Focus.
I notice chest-high built-in cabinets behind the desk. There might be files or photos or important papers. Quickly, I hurry over to them. To my dismay, they’re cavernous and empty. With a disappointed sigh, I close the doors and then inspect the desk. A sleek MacBook Pro sits in the center, closed and probably password protected. To be sure, I flip it open to look. A bright neon green sticky note sits to the side of the trackpad. I mash buttons until the screen comes to life and am not surprised it asks for a password.
Instead of trying to hack into a computer I know I won’t get into, I study the writing on the sticky note.
CUP FAIL X 4
3 RETURN/1 FEE
I’m not sure what any of this means, but it seems important. CUP represents only one thing I can think of. Crowne Unity Project. What does it mean that 4 failed? Was Megan one of them?
Sickness roils in my gut at the implication of Megan failing their program. Could she end up beaten and killed like that girl I’d seen Solomon carrying?
I need to speak to her.
Caius better make good on his promise.
“…truly unfortunate, I agree,” Solomon says, voice nearby. “Come to my office and we’ll discuss.”
Holy crap.
I’m in his office.
I flip the lid to the laptop closed but freeze, unsure where to go. The empty cabinets behind me are small, but I think I can fit. Dropping low, I pull open one of the doors and then slip into the narrow space. Just as I tug the door shut, the voices grow louder.
“I must say, Sol,” a man says with evident envy, “this yacht is a dream come true.”
Solomon laughs. “Cost me a pretty penny, too. Please, Michael, have a seat.”
The desk chair squeaks as Solomon sits. I try to steady my breathing that feels as if it’s coming out in thundering pants. Biting my lip, I do my best to hold my breath and steady my racing heartbeat.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Michael says, done with any air of pleasure, eager to get to business. “I expected what I paid for to be waiting in my room.”
Solomon sighs heavily. “As I said before, it’s truly unfortunate. There’s a reason, though. I have a plan to rectify the situation as well.”
“I’m listening.”
“CUP isn’t always foolproof,” Solomon continues. “There have been failures, especially in recent years.”
“How is that so?” Michael demands, voice tight with anger. “This programming has been going on for ages. Why now?”
Solomon moves in his chair, making it creak again. “I blame it on big Pharma.”
“Go on.”
“Ever since Roger Wade’s been dipping his fingers in the industry, we’ve seen aggressive failures.”
“And what I paid for was one of those failures,” Michael grumbles. “Please explain how I’ve wasted one point two million dollars, Sol. It took me months to funnel all the money carefully to the different channels to make sure it couldn’t be tracked to this transaction.”
“You haven’t wasted your money,” Solomon says, slight irritation in his tone. “You’re simply being delayed gratification.”
“Which better come with a bonus.”
“I assure you, it will.” Solomon thumps the desk. “In the meantime, we need to deal with Wade. With your government clearance and access to members of Congress, I believe we can remove him from the board.”
This guy Michael is in the government?
I don’t like this at all.
“What did he do?” Michael asks. “Besides running his old ass all over the globe pretending to be God?”
“Well, you see, that’s exactly it. He got in bed with big Pharma, shoved tons of money into their pockets, and persuaded them to tweak some childhood vaccines. They’re laced with DNA-altering properties that make some of the younger CUP patients resistant. I’m not sure of what his intent was with changing the DNA, but it’s affected our endeavors nonetheless.”
The wind whistles loudly outside and both men pause their conversation to listen. It’s then I realize the boat is rocking more than before. As much as I want to worry about the weather and this massive thing capsizing, I’m too invested in their conversation.
“So Wade’s vaccine is responsible for my botched purchase?” Michael clarifies. “And now you want me to persuade my colleagues to do something about his unchecked power?”
“Precisely. I’m sure you have the feds in your pocket. Pull Wade up on bullshit money laundering charges. I don’t care. Just take care of him. Get his wrinkly hands out of our honey pot.”
“Were they all ruined?” Michael asks.
“This month, twenty-six passed with flying colors and were successful transactions. They were older, between fifteen and twenty. All were prior to Wade’s meddling, which started about fourteen years ago.”
“Mine was a failure because of the age.”
“Exactly.” Solomon sighs. “And because of your particular specifications, I wasn’t able to simply swap out for one of the successes.”
“Perhaps I could inspect her myself.”
Her.
They’re definitely discussing the transactions of human beings.
Bile creeps up my throat, but I don’t dare gag or make a sound for fear of getting caught.
“Unfortunately,” Solomon says, “that won’t be possible. We’re making a drop this evening and picking up new ones. Yours will not be ready until we’ve run her through the program.”
“How do you know she won’t fail too?”
“Vaccination records. We’re pulling them on all our products as a precursor to their entering the program. The ones we’re obtaining tonight have been vetted as far as that’s concerned.” Solomon pauses. “Again, though, I must remind you she will not be ready for another month or two. At first glance, she’s everything you’ll have requested, but she hasn’t been fixed yet.”
The air in my small space feels limited and I’m starting to sweat. I don’t understand how they can speak normally about trading these people out like broken television sets that need to be exchanged at the store. This is unreal.
“What’s my bonus?” Michael asks, voice cold but resigned to the outcome of the situation.
“Not what you requested, obviously, but it’s a consolation prize for the duration of our trip,” Solomon says, a wickedness in his tone. “For my part in this, I’ve negotiated a trader’s bonus. My handler has offered to give me your failed product. She’ll be ours to play with for a bit.”
Michael grows silent for a beat. “I like them docile, compliant, and eager to please. If she’s a failure, how will that work? I’m not sure that interests me.”
“We have ways of temporarily making that happen,” Solomon assures him. “In fact, with the Crownes here, we’ll have plenty of drugs at our disposal.”
I cringe at the thought of Caius rolling in with his suitcase of pills and needles. The more I learn about this family, the more and more disgusted I become.
“I’m not sure,” Michael grumbles. “I expected more out of this trip. I thought I’d be going home with something truly special, tailored to my personal needs and desires. This turns me off, Sol.”
“Just give it a chance,” Solomon implores. “Watch me play. It might inspire you. And if the sex doesn’t interest you, you’re more than welcome to take your aggressions out on her instead.”
Sickos.
Michael ponders this for a bit and then says, “So I can test drive my broken merchandise and when I get pissed off all over again, you’re not going to stop me if I beat the worthless life out of her?”
I gasp and quickly cover my mouth with my palm. Thankfully, the wind is noisy outside, masking my soft sound. My eyes water and I have to take several slow, measured breaths to keep from hyperventilating.
They’re planning murder and I’m forced to listen to this.
“If that’s what you choose, so be it,” Solomon says with barely masked irritation. “I do ask that you allow an old man to at least get his rocks off first.”
Michael starts to laugh and then Solomon joins in. They’re suddenly back to being best friends. Psychopaths.
“Grab a drink in the saloon on this deck,” Solomon says, rising from his chair. “I’ll come get you when I’ve got the drugs and the girl. Loosen up, my man, you’re about to have a little fun before dinner.”
Their footsteps retreat and I’m planning my escape from my hellish hidey hole when I hear a familiar voice.
“Solomon.”
“Ahh, Caius,” Solomon booms. “Just the man I was looking for. Come sit. We have much to discuss.”
Trapped. Again.