Page 109 of Coordinates of Death

“Thanks, sis. Talk later.” Kordell ended the call and stuffed the phone away. “As you police officers say all the time, let’s keep our heads on a swivel.”

“Funny.” Aurora trudged through the snow, stepping around a cluster of trees blocking the view of the building. She halted, her nerves on edge.

It wasn’t the building that caught her attention but the sign.

A rectangular wooden board hid the decrepit Sweetwood Falls Institute name. A new name carved in bold block letters shouted at her—daring her to look away.

GRAVENSTONE INSTITUTE

The name of her mother’s psychiatric institution.

Aurora stumbled backward, falling into the snow.

“Are you okay?” Kordell crouched and hooked his hand beneath her elbow, helping her to stand. “What’s wrong?”

“This place gives me the creeps.” She gestured toward the sign. “Gravenstone was the name of my mother’s institution. I’m thinking that’s not a coincidence.” She dusted the snow from the back of her suit. “Let’s get this over with.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a row of snow-covered tombstones, their crude tops peeking up from the ground. A chill more intense than the winter air locked his muscles. Patients buried here? That felt unorthodox. Wouldn’t the families bury their own somewhere other than this creepy setting? Mic’s report on the institution’s history filtered through his mind, whispering secrets from the twisted past of the place. Had those unethical treatments killed patients?

Kordell set the thoughts aside and followed her up the partially snow-covered chipped-stone stairs past the warped wooden sign declaring the new name of the institution that held dark secrets too. Gravenstone. The haunting name seemed to fit perfectly, the word carrying weight as if etched in stone from the grave.

The building loomed tall, stone walls mottled with age, windows reminding him of hollow eyes—eyes that watched the forest intently. The roof’s peak stood stark against the snowy mountain backdrop.

Kordell’s gut told him to flee. Escape from the clutches of what lay ahead, clawing at them from the shadows, to enter the Gravenstone Institute.

If they dared.

Aurora turned from the door and wiggled out of her backpack. “I’m guessing that only Candace’s eye can open the special lock.”

Kordell examined it. No keyhole or keypad. Only a small screen, waiting for a scan. “I’m tired of this killer’s blatant disrespect for human life.”

“That’s how serial killers work. They don’t care who they hurt. Some have boundaries like they won’t kill children or animals. Others don’t.” She brought out latex gloves and put them on. “It’s sickening and why we need to find this killer.” Aurora reached in and extracted the container. “Let’s get this over with.” She pulled the eye out, holding it up to the scanner.

The device beeped and displayed a line of green followed by the outline of a hand.

Aurora’s lips pursed. “Great. Looks like it needs someone’s handprint, but whose?”

“I’m guessing yours.”

She stowed the eye back in the container, setting it inside her bag before removing her latex gloves. She placed her right hand on the screen.

It beeped and flashed red.

“Try your left.”

She obeyed, but nothing happened. “Must be your hand.”

“Odd that he’d choose me over you. What if it’s neither of us?” Kordell shed his gloves.

“Let’s pray it’s not Ginny’s.”

Kordell placed his right hand on the screen.

Nothing happened. He tried his left.

The machine beeped and displayed a red line. “Ugh! Now what?”

“Give me your hand.” Aurora held out hers.