Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

"Maury?" Mrs. Lester said. "It's me."

No answer. A faint jangle as she tried the handle.

"Maury? Why is the door locked? I told the boys not to bother you. They know you aren't feeling well."

Shit. He was sick. Injected? Or just too much barbecue?

She knocked again. Then she muttered, "Lock the door and fall asleep. Wonderful."

As her steps retreated, Adam got Elena on the radio and told her what was happening. Elena thought Mrs. Lester might be going for a key, so she advised us to hang tight.

Mrs. Lester did return. She knocked and called again, though, before using the key. I suppose, in some marriages, not knowing what's happening on the other side might be the only thing that keeps you together.

When Lester still didn't reply, she went in, calling a warning as she did. She closed the door, too, which meant that her voice disappeared under the roar of the music.

"Let me listen," Elena said through the radio.

I pulled off the headset and put it to the radio speaker.

"She's looking for him," Elena said. "He's not in bed."

A moment later, there was an exclamation even I could hear. "Oh! There you are. I--"

Silence. We waited through three more seconds, then Elena said, "Get in there, Savannah, take the lead. Blur spells and cover spells. Have Adam follow at a distance."

"Got it." I turned to the techs. "Show me where to go."

One of them led us to the trapdoor. We got it open. There was a set of stairs that could be lowered, but we didn't dare use those. I leaned out, making sure the way was clear, then got in position to drop.

Just before I did, the other tech hurried over to exchange my radio for an earpiece. I slapped it in, then lowered myself through the hole. It was still a two-foot drop. No way to muffle the thump of my fall. Adam followed quickly. We waited for someone downstairs to come running, but our thuds must have been drowned out by the game sounds.

The second-floor hall was long and wide and central, with rooms off both sides and a sweeping staircase in the middle. Passing that staircase was the riskiest part--the master suite was at the far end. I moved under a blur spell. Adam kept his distance. I could have covered him, too, but that took extra juice.

When I got to the door of the master suite, I flipped my back to the wall, where I could see partway down the steps. I waved Adam over while I kept watch.

Adam took up position against the wall on the other side of the door. I reached for the door handle and slowly turned it. It wouldn't budge. Mrs. Lester had relocked it. Damn.

I should have brought the picks. A spell was an

extra drain wasted on a task I could do manually.

I leaned over and checked the lock. A simple household one. A flip of my credit card did the trick. I cracked open the door and listened. The damn music was still booming from downstairs. I thought I picked up a thump from inside the room, but that was it. I closed the door and whispered to Elena.

"Go in," she said. "Keep a blur spell on and be ready to run if you're spotted."

"Where do we run?" I whispered. "We jumped through the trapdoor."

Adam answered, "Elena? Tell the tech guys to ready the ladder. If we come running, get it down."

I opened the door again, an inch at a time.

I could see the bed, with the covers in a snarl, half on the floor. Otherwise, nothing. I leaned in farther. There were four doors. Two were open, but the angle was wrong to see through either of them. I listened hard, but the rap music below had gone up another notch.

I double-checked my blur spell then eased into the bedroom. It was massive. Wasted space mostly, with nothing except a king-size bed and nightstands, along the far wall by the window.

The first open doorway was to my right. A sliding door to a walk-in closet, it looked like. Dark inside. I turned and gestured for Adam to be ready in case anyone came flying out of it when I passed. Communicating while in blur-form wasn't easy, but he understood.

A sour smell rose from the sheets. I reached out and touched one. Soaked with sweat. No other signs of trauma, though. No signs of the Lesters either.