“Do you know anything about a windowless brick building in a clearing not too far from where we got attacked?”
“
“I’m in the woods outside of it right now. Do you think you could get over here? I may have found the source of the Kings Ridge problem.”
“You stay put, Welcome, and keep out of sight,” Stone said. “I’ll be right there.”
“The door’s locked.”
“No problem,” Stone replied. “I have a key.”
Starting to chill from the evaporation of his own sweat, he slid down to the base of a white ash, clasped his arms around his knees, and waited.
CHAPTER 43
The crunch of Gilbert Stone’s cruiser on gravel startled Lou from an exhausted, dreamless sleep. He wiped salt and perspiration from his eyes, rose blearily to his feet, and reentered the clearing, wheeling the ground radar system ahead of him. Stone parked near the Mercedes, emerged from the cruiser, hoisted his heavy utility belt above his ample belly, and then settled a campaign hat over his mop of graying hair. Lou met him at the blockhouse, outside the green door.
“Anybody else coming?” Lou asked, glancing down the road.
“I’ve got two teams on standby,” Stone answered. “Tell me everything. What’s that contraption you’ve got there?”
“It’s portable radar. I think the corn Chester is growing is poisonous.”
“Poisonous?”
“I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I think William Chester is producing vast amounts of corn, genetically modified to grow larger and faster by combining it with the genes of a large African termite called
“And you think this corn is somehow poisoning the citizens of my town.”
“I do.”
Stone made the same high-pitch whistle that Lou remembered from the first night they met. “So what on earth brought you way out here?” Stone asked, gesturing to the woods surrounding them.
“You remember Joey, the cook at Millie’s who nearly got his thumb sliced off?”
“Of course.”
“Well, a couple of years ago, Joey found these huge mutated termites in the woods and made them his pets.”
“Mutated?”
“Termites,” Lou repeated.
“How are they mutated?”
“Well, first of all, they’re bigger than other termites of the species, and secondly, they eat flesh in addition to their usual diet.”
“Holy gravy,” Stone said, making that whistle again. “So what do these bugs have to do with corn?”
“Well, initially I thought it was airborne contagion-inhaling pollen from Chester’s modified corn-that caused the odd behaviors taking place around town. I went to see a bug expert in Philadelphia to see if that was even possible. Turns out that the termites Joey found are an African species, clearly imported here by someone. This piece of equipment-” Lou tapped the cart’s handlebars. “-can be used to track their underground ventilation shafts.”
“And you tracked one of these shafts all the way to this building?”
“That’s right,” Lou said proudly. “The bugs must have flown out and started another colony, or else they escaped through a crack in the foundation. The expert and I aren’t sure, but we don’t think it’s an airborne contagion anymore. We think the termites are being intentionally mutated-radiated, most likely-and then their DNA is being combined with the corn to get this huge, rapidly growing, genetically modified, monster vegetable. Frankencorn, I’ve been calling it.”
Stone looked at Lou queerly. “But if it’s not airborne, how’s it making the people sick?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, we’ve got to find out. I got some more troublin’ news to share with you. More proof, I guess, that something really wrong is happening here in Kings Ridge.” Stone pulled a kerchief from his pocket and used it to mop his brow. “Roberta Jennings accidentally killed herself yesterday.”
“What?”
“Poor dear took some painkillers and alcohol, then sliced open her belly with a kitchen knife. Apparently, she was trying to lose some weight the quick way. The ME says she cut a couple of arteries and bled to death.”
“Oh, God,” Lou muttered.
He swallowed hard. Roberta Jennings had completed the pathetic circle John Meacham had begun. Another terrible decision. Another violent death. Lou considered disclosing then and there what he knew of Darlene Mallory, Double M, and a huge shipment of corn, maybe Chester’s corn, headed someplace by train, but he needed to clear things with her first.
“Can we get inside?” he asked, pointing to the green door. “Do we need a warrant or anything? I’m fairly certain that the source of whatever is going on here is behind that door.”
Stone’s eyes flashed. “Of course we can get in. I’m the damn chief of police.”
“Do you know what this building is used for?”
Stone nodded dully, then said, “Sure I do. Heck, I authorized it.”
Lou looked up at the man, bewildered. “Well, what is it?” he asked. “It doesn’t look like much.”
Stone snorted a mirthless laugh and pointed down. “That’s because it’s all belowground,” he said.
“What is?”
“William Chester’s research laboratory,” Stone said, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. “We excavated it years ago. He already owned the land and wanted a place where he could conduct research without attracting much attention. Hardly anybody even knows about this access road.” Stone pointed to the dirt road behind them. “The seed business is very competitive, you see. Chester was worried about trade secrets being stolen-industrial espionage and such. We gave him the permits to build an underground lab because, well, Chester Seed Company is what makes Kings Ridge a viable community.”
“So do you know what they do down there?”
“Not really. The security system feeds to a room in the basement of the Chester mansion-the place you and your friends visited. As far as I know, these people have been complying with all our permits and regulations. We never gave them permission to radiate bugs, though, and turn ’em into mutants, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Do you know whose car that is?”
“Actually, I think it’s one of Bill Chester’s.”
“He’s here,” Lou said. “Maybe he can finally provide some answers. How do we get in?”
“Well, we can pound all night on this door, or we can use this.” Looking somewhat puffed, Stone held up a key. “Like I said, I’m the chief of police.”
With a turn of Stone’s key, the green metal door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Brushed steel wall scones illuminated the cinder block entrance and a staircase with a metal handrail. Stone removed his gun from its holster and started down, with Lou following.
“Should we send for backup?” Lou asked.
