Chapter Eighteen
Tommy reached for the doorknob and turned it. Locked. Checking down the hall, Tommy heard Beth, pulling open the stove. She took a credit card from her purse. It slipped easily into the door jamb and the cheap lock submitted with a snap. Now Cory, you f*****g pervert, I've got your ass... The door swung open; the old bathroom. But no blinking indicator lights from computer consoles, no power lights from terminals, or monitors, or power-bars. Tommy flicked the light switch. The old toilet was still there. Cardboard cartons were stacked in the corners of the room and clothes were hung along the old shower rail. She stepped on through the door. The smell of dust, mold and bug spray hung heavy. Her heart sagged; no computers, no monitors, no servers. “Damn,” she swore, smashi
