Page 134 of The Deadly Shallows

“That’s the point,” Braxton said. “No one would think we’d put illegal chemicals on our railroad cars. We’ll transfer the chemicals to different containers, and anyone who happens to see them will assume it’s one of our orders.”

“Then what?” Sid asked.

“Then we’ll ship them down to south Florida, where my brother will meet you, Sid. He’ll get you outfitted to do your thing in the Everglades. Covering over seven-thousand miles, a hundred barrels in the Everglades will be like drops of rain in the ocean. Besides, who’s going to care if a few gators die?”

“And the two snooping around?” Hector asked.

Gower’s jaw tightened. “They are a thistle in my loafers.” He grunted. “The soonest I can get the pieces in place is five a.m. We do this predawn, and the railroad containers will be happily chugging down the line before they show back up.”

“Why do you think they’ll be back?” Sid asked.

“Because they’re the type.”

Austin looked at Caleb and leaned forward. He shook his head. Now was not the time to move in. They didn’t have a warrant.

She shifted to step back and kicked a rock that skittered across the pavement. Caleb reached out, tugging her into the shadows.

“Did you hear that?” Gower asked.

“Hear what?” Sid said.

“I heard something outside. Turn on the floodlights.”

Austin’s muscles tensed, adrenaline burning through her limbs. They’d never make it back to the car unseen.

“Quick,” Caleb whispered, pulling her into an alley between the buildings as bright lights flashed on.

They bolted out of the light’s reach, racing across the cracked and crumbled asphalt.

Once far from the flooding light, Caleb pulled up short, and her Keds skidded out from under her on the damp pavement. His hand grasped her tightly, swinging her back upright.

Cold sweat beaded her brow. That was too close.

“Go check it out,” Braxton roared in the warehouse.

“Don’t you think—”

“What I think is that both of you need to keep your mouth shut and make sure no one is watching us. Because if they are, they’re dead,” he yelled, making sure anyone present heard him, and hear him they did.

Caleb took a quick assessment. “Down the outcropping.”

Is he crazy? The outcropping sat at the edge of the manufacturing warehouse—a sheer wall of rocks and boulders thirty-feet high with a shallow retaining pool at the bottom. One wrong foothold and . . . She didn’t want to think about and.

Caleb intertwined his long fingers with hers and took the first step.

Shifting his boots for the steadiest placement, he reached out his other hand, placing its wide grasp on her waist. He guided her down to the first boulder with decent footing for her already-slick sneakers.

They held in place, listening, the cold of the boulder seeping through her fleece.

“You go that way, Sid,” Hector directed. “I’ll take the rocks.”

“Nobody’d be crazy enough to go down there. It’s a thirty-foot drop.”

“Just do what I said,” Hector roared. “Boss said if they’re out there, we know what to do.”

“We’ve got to move,” Caleb whispered against her ear. “We need to get below that boulder.”

Austin looked down. The boulder he was talking about balanced precariously on the edge of the other rocks, jutting out a good three feet. If they got under it, they’d be out of view, but if it shifted, they’d be toast.