Chapter 2 - Beneath the Greenhouse
Estelle recovered quickly.
That was one of her talents.
Shock lasted seconds.
Control came back immediately.
She turned toward Dana Mercer.
“A contract officer cannot walk into my home during a private celebration and humiliate this family based on allegations from a disgruntled former employee.”
“I’m not a former employee,” I said.
Estelle ignored me.
Dana did not.
“Mrs. Kahn, the suspension was issued before I entered your property.”
“On whose complaint?”
“I’m not discussing protected sources on your lawn.”
That answer made Estelle look at me again.
For six months, she had called me unemployed.
Technically, she was right.
I was not on Kahn Meridian’s payroll.
I had not been since I was twenty two.
What she did not know was that three weeks earlier, I had been asked by an outside federal review office to examine a limited set of historical field test records connected to Sentinel.
Not because I was Walter Kahn’s daughter.
Because I had been there when the original prototype failed.
Dana lowered her voice.
“We need access to company controlled records maintained on this property.”
Estelle laughed.
“This is a residence.”
“Part of the greenhouse structure is registered as Kahn Meridian archival storage.”
My eyes moved toward it.
That was new.
The greenhouse had been my mother’s.
After she died, Dad kept it untouched for years.
Estelle renovated it six months earlier.
Eighty thousand dollars.
Glass walls.
Heated floors.
Imported stone.
At least that was what she told everyone.
Dana continued.
“Your counsel received the preservation order thirty minutes ago.”
Estelle’s jaw tightened.
Then one of the investigators spoke.
“Until counsel arrives, nobody enters or removes anything from the greenhouse storage area.”
Coleman looked down.
Mud on his shoes too.
Red clay.
He tried to step backward.
Maya noticed.
So did I.
“What were you doing in there?”
“Nothing.”
“You have mud from somewhere under that greenhouse on your gloves.”
“There is dirt everywhere.”
“No.”
Estelle stepped between us.
“My son does not answer to you.”
Dana looked toward Coleman.
“He may answer to someone eventually. For now, everyone stays out.”
That prevented me from doing the stupid thing emotion wanted.
Walk into the greenhouse.
Start opening doors.
Search.
Instead, we preserved.
The party ended without anyone officially announcing it.
Guests left in clusters.
Some whispered.
Some pretended not to stare.
Coleman disappeared into the house with Estelle’s attorney after being told he could not enter the greenhouse.
Maya and I returned to the old groundskeeper cottage at the far end of the estate.
She locked the door behind us.
“You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That the contract was bad.”
“I knew there were questions.”
“You said nothing.”
“I could not.”
“Because military?”
“Because federal review.”
She stared.
“So Grandma Estelle is going to jail?”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“No. A suspended contract is not a conviction.”
Maya dropped onto the couch.
“You are impossible.”
“I am trying not to become your grandmother.”
That stopped her.
Then she looked toward the window.
“Coleman has been going into the greenhouse at night.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw him?”
“Twice.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He said they were storing party stuff.”
“What did you see?”
Maya hesitated.
“Boxes.”
“What kind?”
“Black shipping cases.”
That caught me.
Military electronics often travel in ruggedized black cases.
Could also be camera equipment.
Tools.
Anything.
“Labels?”
“One said Raven Six.”
My chest tightened.
Maya noticed.
“You know it.”
Raven Six was not the name of a current product.
It was the informal field designation of the prototype system my unit had tested twelve years earlier.
The system that burned across the left side of my torso when a power module failed during a night exercise.
The system Kahn Meridian later claimed had completed testing without a serious hardware incident.
I had never told Maya that name.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly?”
“I took a picture.”
She opened her phone.
There it was.
Coleman crossing behind the greenhouse after dark.
A black case in his arms.
Stencil:
RAVEN 6
PROPERTY OF KMS TEST GROUP
I sat beside her.
“When did you take this?”
“Four nights ago.”
“Did Coleman see?”
“No.”
“What else?”
“He carried three.”
“Where?”
She enlarged the image.
Behind Coleman, one greenhouse panel stood open.
Not a door.
A floor hatch.
The red clay came from below.
I forwarded the photo to Dana.
Then Maya whispered:
“That’s why he came after me today.”
“What?”
“He saw me near the greenhouse this morning.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He asked what I photographed.”
My anger returned.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were already acting weird about the party.”
Fair.
Then:
“He told me if I showed anyone, Grandma would kick us off the property.”
That threat had power.
The cottage belonged to Dad.
But Estelle controlled daily estate access while he recovered from his stroke.
Maya thought one angry adult could make us homeless.
Coleman knew it.
My phone rang.
Dana.
“Grace, I need you to listen carefully.”
“What happened?”
“The preservation team opened the lower storage area with company counsel present.”
“And?”
“We found Raven Six cases.”
“How many?”
“Seven.”
My mouth went dry.
The old test program officially had six field units.
All were supposedly destroyed or permanently demilitarized after the program ended.
“Seven?”
“Yes.”
“One more than existed.”
“That is not the problem.”
“What is?”
“One case contains a current Sentinel production component.”
“Inside an old Raven case?”
“Yes.”
“Serial?”
Dana paused.
“KMS PDU 041.”
I stood.
I knew that serial.
Not because of current Sentinel.
Because PDU 041 was the power distribution unit listed in my accident report twelve years ago.
The report said it had been destroyed after the fire.
May you like
It was now sitting beneath my father’s greenhouse.
Continue to the next part: The supposedly destroyed component that injured Grace during a classified field test twelve years earlier has been found beneath her father’s greenhouse beside brand new Sentinel hardware.
