Page 79 of Hidden Tide

—James Sinclair

“The telescope was positioned beneath a light,” Keating says. “The beam pointed toward a map of Blackwater.”

I stare at Ivy’s photograph on Nathan’s phone.

The brass telescope sits beside the window of her San Francisco studio, turning sunlight into a thin streak of blue.

Whoever entered her studio knew what was hidden inside it.

“Was the glass still there?” Ivy asks.

“The bomb squad hasn’t cleared the room.”

“Why do they need a bomb squad?”

“Because the telescope was placed in the center of the floor beneath a light that shouldn’t have been on.”

Keating’s answer is calm, but Ivy’s breathing changes.

I picture my sister standing at the beach house with Willow and Hazel while deputies guard the doors. She’s probably blaming herself for leaving the telescope in her studio.

I know how she feels.

Someone took my compass.

Someone has my piece of the lens.

Ben stands beside me, his shoulder touching mine.

“Could the light be the message?” he asks.

Keating nods. “It could also be a trap.”

An alarm erupts through the building.

The harsh sound tears through the evidence room.

Red lights flash above the doors.

Ben grabs me and pulls me away from the window.

“Down!”

Everyone drops.

Keating reaches for his weapon as the room plunges into darkness.

The overhead lights disappear.

Only the red emergency lights remain, casting the evidence room in an eerie glow.

“What happened?” Mom cries.

Ward pulls Storm behind the heavy table.

Nathan drops beside Mom and shields her with his body. Thomas lowers himself to the floor more slowly, gripping his cane and muttering words I can’t hear.

Keating presses the radio at his shoulder.