Stone turned. For the first time, his expression had darkened. “I saw what Roberta did to herself,” he said. “If the cause of what happened to her is down these stairs, I intend to uncover it here and now.”

Lou nodded as Stone cautiously resumed his descent. They came to another locked steel door at the bottom of the stairwell. A keypad secured access to whatever was behind it. Without hesitating, Stone punched in a short series of numbers. Then after a soft click, the red LED light on the pad turned green and the lock responded.

“What now?” Lou asked, somewhat surprised by Stone’s familiarity with the place.

“Now we go in,” the cop said simply.

Remembering Chester’s thugs, Lou glanced up the stairwell behind them, wishing at least that reinforcements were on the way. At the same time, he wondered again about precisely how tight Stone was with the mogul at the center of Kings Ridge’s prosperity.

The cop pulled open the door without first peering inside. Either he had no reason to believe any threat existed, or in his zeal to get to the bottom of Roberta’s death and the rest of the troubles in his town, he had become reckless.

Or maybe, Lou found himself wondering, it’s the corn at work.…

He fell into step behind Stone and followed him down a short corridor that dead-ended at another windowless metal door with another keypad.

“Better stay back,” Stone said. “Not sure what we’re going to find behind this door.”

At least he’s finally being cautious, Lou thought.

Again Stone keyed a number sequence, and again the access panel’s red light gave way to green.

“I hope you’re right about forging ahead like this, Gilbert,” Lou said.

“I’ve had just about enough strange things happening in my town.”

Pistol at the ready, Stone went in with Lou following. The space ahead of them was brightly lit.

Just inside the threshold, Lou stopped abruptly, his mouth agape at what he was seeing. A series of conveyor belts snaked throughout a large area. Corn seed, lit by banks of powerful overhead lights, covered every inch of the conveyor belts in a golden river that seemed to have no beginning or end.

Suspended above the conveyor belt was a thick metal tube, four feet long, with gauges, control knobs along the side, and smaller tubes running down its length. It appeared to be a ray gun of sorts with a short, six-inch muzzle, half the diameter of the main tube. The rest of the space reminded Lou of Oliver Humphries’s lab on steroids—stainless steel tables, centrifuges, multiple microscopes, glass cabinets stocked with flasks, beakers, plastic tubing, pipettes, and other scientific materials.