The Breach - Ghost Country - Deep Sky

racks pulled out of a driveway, rolled two blocks to Main and swung west. A moment later it’d crossed the outskirts and headed down the valley road toward the coast. Paige pointed out another house: its owners were hauling suitcases and bags out and stuffing them into a sedan’s trunk.
    “They know something’s going on,” Travis said.
    “Let’s find out what it is,” Bethany said.
    They walked into the Third Notch ten minutes later. The person with the apron turned out to be a woman in her forties. Her name tag read JEANNIE. She was visibly stressed, which might’ve made sense if the place had been bustling and understaffed. But it wasn’t. It was empty except for Jeannie and two kids—a boy and a girl, maybe six and ten respectively, clearly hers. The two of them were playing handheld video games at one of the tables and looked thoroughly bored.
    Jeannie was on a cell phone when they walked in. She gave them a small wave and made a face: right with you. Into the phone she said, “Well we’re waiting. Get everything locked up and come and get us.” She hung up without saying good-bye, and turned to the three of them. “Kitchen staff’s gone home. I have pizza slices I can warm up, and drinks.”
    Travis considered his reply. The approach he had in mind wouldn’t work well if he jumped right into it.
    “Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi,” he said. “Either one’s fine.”
    Paige and Bethany both asked for the same. Jeannie stepped into the back room, and the three of them sat at the bar. Travis saw a stack of menus to his left. The cover showed a Paul Bunyan type character wearing a huge belt with three notches carved into it. Travis couldn’t imagine being any less interested in hearing a backstory.
    Jeannie returned with the drinks and the check, set them down and got to work squaring things away around the register. Her movements were hurried, anxious.
    “I heard of this place a while back,” Travis said.
    Jeannie didn’t look up from her work. “Yeah?”
    “Guy I used to know told me I should stop by, if I was ever in the area.”
    Jeannie said nothing.
    Outside, the sedan with the stuffed trunk went past.
    “He said he left something of mine in the basement,” Travis continued. “Said someone here would know what I was talking about.”
    At last Jeannie glanced up at him.
    Travis studied her face for any sign of suspicion. Any hint that she understood the significance of this place’s basement, and that a stranger requesting access to it was probably tied to that significance in some way.
    But all she did was knit her eyebrows together. “I think it’s pretty empty down there,” she said. “How long ago was this?”
    “Few years,” Travis said.
    Jeannie shrugged, thought about it another second and then went back to her straightening, as if that concluded the discussion.
    “Can I take a look anyway?” Travis said.
    She seemed amused at the request, for some reason. She shrugged again and said, “Knock yourself out,” then reached under the bar out of sight. Travis heard a coffee can slide on wood, and objects clinking against one another. After a moment Jeannie brought out two keys, each on its own ring. The rings had plastic tabs attached to them, labeled simply #1 and #2. She pushed them across to Travis. “Entrance is outside, around the back.”
    With that she returned to the register and ignored them.
    Travis traded looks with Paige and Bethany, and then the three of them stood, leaving their drinks. They were almost to the door when Travis stopped and turned back toward Jeannie.
    “You ever heard of a man named Ruben Ward?” he said.
    She met his gaze.
    Travis had seen lots of people play dumb before. They almost always overdid it. Their faces scrunched up. They registered too much confusion. Really, any confusion was too much; it wasn’t confusing to simply hear an unfamiliar name.
    Jeannie didn’t look confused. She looked puzzled, which was stranger yet. Travis got the impression that she knew nothing about Ward, but that she’d heard the name. Maybe recently.
    After a moment she shook her head. “Can’t help you.”
    Travis considered pressing her on the subject, but held back. He turned and led the others out.
    They were halfway along the building’s left side, moving down an alley floored with cracked pavement and a few lonely tufts of grass, when it happened.
    It started as a sound—or what seemed like a sound. Maybe the frenetic hum of an electrical