CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
With her gun stuffed in her jacket pocket and her fingers gripped around it, Keri casually ambled the last ten feet to the door, waiting for the sound of a shouted warning or a gunshot. None came. She stifled the powerful urge to run. If someone was watching, she didn’t want to look suspicious.
After what felt like forever, she stepped through the open door. She sighed in relief, then looked around. She appeared to be in the kitchen, which was large and tricked out. It looked like it was intended for a full-service restaurant. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for any sign of movement.
Seeing nothing, she moved quickly over to what looked like a small map of the facility on the wall, complete with room numbers. Everything was in Spanish but she got the gist.
