Fenton wasn’t expecting anyone that morning, so he pressed the intercom on his desk. “Stephen, are we expecting anyone?”
His assistant had no idea of the weekend’s goings-on. “No, sir, not until eleven thirty.”
Fenton glanced at his desk clock. It was only 8:47. “Then find out who the hell just pulled through our front gate.”
Before his assistant could get a response from the new gate guard, Fenton watched the limousine proceed to the building’s entrance. The driver got out and opened a rear passenger’s door. Senator Corbin Davis stepped out. Fenton knew this couldn’t be good. He stood up to greet the senator without waiting to see if anyone else got out of the limo.
Stephen Millard was on the phone with the front security gate as Fenton left his office and walked right by him. Millard quickly cupped the phone. “Sir, it’s Senator Davis and—”
“I know who it is,” Fenton interrupted tersely, heading into the front lobby toward his approaching guest. Fenton assumed Davis had come out to check on their temporary security arrangements. “Senator, what brings you all the way out here to Woodbury?”
It was only now that Fenton saw Skylar Drummond walking behind Davis, which stopped the older doctor dead in his tracks.
The senator’s response was cold and direct. “Let’s talk in your office.”
Fenton didn’t take his eyes off Skylar. “I thought she was in federal custody.”
The senator answered matter-of-factly. “I ordered her release.”
Fenton’s hands started to shake. “What the hell is going on?”
“The same thing that happens when a major drug bust turns out to be a truckload of baking soda. Changes are made so that it never happens again.”
“You’re being oblique, Senator,” the doctor sniped.
“Not for long. Like I said, your office.”
Fenton closed his office door and sat down behind his desk as if this was going to be a meeting like any other. He glanced with suspicion at Skylar, then turned to Davis. “Does she need to be here?”
The senator nodded. “She does.”
“You do know that whatever claims she’s made are lies.”
“She hasn’t made any claims.” Davis glanced at Skylar. “I have.”
Skylar sat directly across from Fenton in the uncomfortable folding metal chair, just as she had done during her job interview, which now seemed so very long ago.
Davis chose a more comfortable armchair as he addressed Fenton. “I’ll get right to the point. Pack up your things, Marcus. You’re fired.”
Fenton hung his head, but didn’t say a word.
The senator continued. “Dr. Drummond is here because I have asked her to be your temporary replacement until we can find a permanent one. She has graciously accepted, which means that as of this moment, she has operational control of this facility.”
Fenton shook his head in disbelief. “This is ludicrous.” He glanced up to the ceiling to see if his world was literally caving in.
Skylar stared across the desk at Marcus. She spoke with all the restraint she could muster. “You have thirty minutes to clear out your belongings.”
Fenton slowly raised his head to look at her. “You can’t do this to me.”
Skylar remained stone-faced. “Oh, but I can.”
Corbin Davis smiled ever so slightly. “With my full support.”
She stood up slowly, obviously relishing the moment, then looked him directly in the eyes. “If you are not off the premises by the time I return, I will have you escorted out by security personnel.” Skylar exited without another word.
Weakly, Fenton asked the senator, “Why?”
The senator got up and moved slowly around the office, glancing at the framed photographs of Fenton with various presidents and other notables. “You have wasted a lot of people’s valuable time, energy, and resources for years with this nonsense. This weekend was the last straw. You led us on a wild-goose chase over nothing. And you nearly ruined that young lady’s life.”
“What exactly do you mean, ‘over nothing’?”
“The goddamn technology doesn’t work. The echo box. It never has, and it probably never will.”
Fenton sputtered. His world was spinning. “What the hell are you talking about? It does work. That’s why she fled. Look, whatever she told you—”
Davis cut him off. “She didn’t tell me a damn thing, Marcus. I told her.” The senator moved to the door, where he paused to glance out the windows at several Homeland Security vehicles arriving at the facility. Fenton was about to speak, but Davis had no intention of listening to another word. “Homeland is arriving to take possession of all your computer records, both here and in your residence, so I wouldn’t plan on taking any with you. What you should consider is hiring the best lawyer you can find. Because if you or Michael Barnes were dumb enough to leave any kind of a trail, you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Corbin Davis glanced at the security guard manning the front gate as his limousine exited Harmony House grounds. The senator took out his encrypted phone and dialed Bob Stenson to report that Marcus Fenton had been relieved of his duties.
Skylar had been suspicious from the moment Senator Davis had offered her Fenton’s job. Anything that sounds too good to be true always is. But how could she have said no? She would be getting revenge on the man who’d ordered her lover’s death, and would have unlimited access to Eddie, at least for the time being. Just over twenty-four hours ago, she’d been informed by an overly zealous Homeland Security agent that she would never see her patient again and was losing her rights as an American citizen. Now she had her dream job, which should have taken her another twenty years to achieve. Skylar guessed that the government was desperate to keep the situation contained. The last thing they wanted was her going public with her story and suing Homeland Security for false imprisonment. If they kept her happy, she’d remain quiet. That was the deal. In fact, she’d signed a confidentiality agreement to that effect.
Skylar was certain there was more to the story, but realized she would most likely never know it. What she did know was that people changed their minds all the time. There was no guarantee how long she’d have free rein within Harmony House, so she was not about to waste time. She had to act while she had the opportunity.
The moment she stepped inside her office, she went right to the stack of storage boxes labeled Parks, Edward. She opened the first box, which contained his earliest records, and pulled out the first couple inches of folders. She riffled through them, looking for something specific. A phone number. Which she found in short order. And dialed.
CHAPTER 111
Dr. Marcus Fenton’s House, Pine Hill, New Jersey, May 29, 9:19 a.m.
Federal agents had already been searching Marcus Fenton’s home for over thirty minutes by the time he pulled into his driveway. He parked directly behind their vehicles and got out, carrying with him the few keepsakes he had taken from Harmony House. These included several framed photographs of his deceased wife, Ruthie.
To no one in particular, Fenton said he was going to hire the best lawyer he knew, who would readily put a stop to all this. He went inside to his home office, where he sat down behind his desk. His computer and all his technology had been removed. How dare they? Fenton placed the photographs on his empty desktop, then opened a drawer, which was not a drawer at all but the cover of a small safe with a combination lock. He turned the dial two rotations to the right, one to the left, and one to the right. He opened the safe and removed several notebooks. Behind them was a small jewelry box. Inside the box were two plain white pills. Each was 500 milligrams of a lethal, untraceable compound known only as KT-186. It was going to look like Marcus Fenton had a heart attack, which would be completely believable given the circumstances.
Michael Barnes had had his escape plan. Marcus Fenton had his.
He poured himself a glass of water and swallowed the pills. Both went down smoothly. Nothing happened immediately. He didn’t expect it to. He calmly closed the small jewelry box and placed it and the notebooks back inside the safe, which he then locked. He closed the small drawer, concealing the safe, and looked at one of the photographs of his wife. “See you soon.”