granddaughter’s bedroom and closed the door behind him. Checking her room had become part of his “unofficial” rounds since his return. Unlike the three panda cubs, for example, Grace was not on public display, of course. But in a sense, Noah thought with coldcalculation, she had to be managed like any other animal in his Ark. One of the most important aspects of zoo management was containment. You had to make sure the animals were secure. From his experience, escape was more likely early in an animal’s stay rather than later. After a few days, or weeks, of regular food, shelter, and comfort, the desire for freedom faltered, replaced by resignation or contentment. Ideally, a well-adjusted specimen, upon discovering an open door, should walk right past the opening without a thought of walking through it. Noah knew that Grace had not yet reached this level of contentment, but he was confident that she would, eventually. Once she realized what he was offering her, and how she’d really come into the world, she would never return to the chaos that was life with Travis Wolfe.
The bedroom had belonged to his daughter, Rose, Grace’s mother. The only changes Noah had made were the addition of cameras and a few framed photos of him and Rose when Rose was young. Rose had never liked framed photos on her walls. Noah didn’t care about the staged family photos, either, but he wished he had installed the cameras when she was there. If he’d been able to keep an eye on Rose like he was watching Grace, he might have been able to prevent Travis from stealing her away.
Don’t look back! he admonished himself with a grim smile. There’s nothing you can do to change the past. You have the future now. You have Grace.
He looked at the nightstand next to the bed. The iPad he’d given her was still in the box, seemingly untouched. Stacked on top of it were the Moleskine journals. He ran his perfectly manicured fingers along the black bindings.
One … two … three … four … five …
He had ordered six for her. One was missing. She wasn’t carrying it in her backpack in the panda exhibit — Butch had gone through it when she wasn’t looking, as he did every day per Noah’s request. And the Moleskine was too big for her pockets. He looked around the room, knowing he could run up to his office and go over the surveillance video instead, but it would be more fun to find the notebook on his own.
He looked in all the obvious places. Her coat, which was hanging on a hook near the door. The desk drawers. The dresser drawers. The bathroom cabinets. Under the bed. Beneath the mattress. In the pillowcases. On the closet shelves. He didn’t find it.
The only reason she would hide the journal was so that no one could read what’s inside.
Grace had been the perfect granddaughter since she’d arrived at the Ark. At least on the surface.
She might be able to fool Butch , Noah thought, but she can’t fool me.
He redoubled his efforts, checking again in the places he had already looked. He called Butch to make sure Grace was still in Lab 251. It wouldn’t do to have her discover her grandfather ransacking her bedroom.
“She’s in the nursery,” Butch said. “I’m right outside the door. Yvonne and her are watching the dinos belch and fart — you’re going to have to put them behind hermetically sealed glass so the visitors don’t faint. Yvonne and Grace are acting like they’re long-lost sisters. I guess Grace has forgotten that Yvonne helped us snatch her from the Coelacanth . Can I get outta here?”
“No. Stay where you are. Call me the second Grace leaves the lab.”
Noah ended the call and walked back into the bedroom’s closet. The mansion was riddled with secret passages. He’d designed it that way. There wasn’t a room in the house, including the bathrooms, that didn’t have another way out. It was one of his most carefully guarded secrets. Not even Rose, when she was alive, knew about the passages,
Learning to Kill: Stories