He flexed his fingers, then reached to put a hand on the detective’s shoulder. At first, there was no response. Using what power he could summon, he shook the man. It wasn’t much. Nothing like the effort he’d put out when he’d rocked Pete’s car. But it wassomething.More of his energy must be coming back. And maybe somehow Olivia was helping him.
Gabe’s eyes flew open. “Waaa?” He looked around, seeing no one.
It’s Travis. You have to focus on what I’m saying. You have to listen.
The plea got no response. Instead, Gabe began testing his bonds. Handcuffs secured his wrists, but his legs were tied with rope. Pulling his legs toward his hands, he began to work at the bonds.
Travis put his hand over the knot Gabe was working on, and he went still, glancing around. He started to speak but then thought better of it. Good man. He must have figured out that anything he said could be overheard. Still, he seemed perplexed as his features took on a strained look, like he was trying to remember a name he couldn’t quite recall.Is that you, Travis?
Yes! Thank God you can hear me.
Gabe shook his head.If it’s you, give me a sign.
Travis pressed his hand against Gabe’s.
Okay, I felt that. Or is it a hallucination?
It’s me.
Maybe I heard something. I’m not sure.
Travis wanted to shout in frustration but calmed himself. He wasn’t exactly getting through, but there had to be a way to do it.
He moved his finger against the back of Gabe’s hand and wrote. “In S’s house. U never heard of him.”
Gabe gave a fraction of a nod.
Travis wrote, “Wants to know why O was with U.”
The next part was harder, but he laboriously spelled out the crux of the message. “U read Howell Institute records.”
Howell Institute?
“Y”
Again, he laboriously spelled out, “O said she met me there as a kid. And you saw her name on the list.”
Gabe shook his head.Not sure I’m getting this.
Travis tried to write fast. “Big danger if S knows O comms with me now.”
Gabe sagged against the bunk.I don’t know...
“Remember her name on the Howell Institute list. U don’t know S.”
Before Travis could write more, the door slammed open, and a man barreled into the room, a look of fury on his face. Who else could it be but Smith?
CHAPTERTWENTY
Gabe tipped his head to the side, staring at the man who must have gone to a lot of trouble to capture him and Olivia.
Smith charged across the floor. “What happened a few minutes ago?”
So he’d been right—he was under observation. Now he did his best to look confused. “I dunno. A nightmare?” He tried to lift an arm. “Um, who are you? Why am I trussed up like a Christmas goose?”
“I’m asking the questions.”
“Tell me who you are,” Gabe pressed.
