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The mystery deepened, and Sam looked at Remi, noticing her brows go up al
most imperceptibly. She was as intrigued as he. “The way I see it,” Remi said, “it can’t hurt to take a quick visit to that warehouse and have a look around.”
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Allegra looked aghast at Remi’s announcement. “The warehouse? You think that’s wise? In the midst of the police investigation?”
“We’re only going to look. Should be safe enough if the police are there.”
“You can’t be serious, Oliver,” Allegra said. “Think about it.”
“I trust Sam and Remi.”
“Well, I’ll have no part of it.” She stuffed her papers back in her purse. “If you’re going to go off on this wild-goose chase, someone needs to stay by the phone in case of emergency.” She stalked off, clearly perturbed by their intentions.
“She’ll be fine,” Oliver said. “A bit bossy, ever since her divorce, and stressed from raising her son on her own.” He stood. “Shall we?”
* * *
—
THE WAREHOUSE was located on the south side of town, surrounded by a sea of old brick warehouses constructed around the turn of the twentieth century. The police had come and gone, as evident by the yellow crime scene tape pulled away and stuffed in a garbage can, its long ends fluttering in the breeze.
Facing the street was the main entrance, a double door constructed of heavy corrugated iron. It was a massive affair barely wide enough to allow a modern truck through. The doors were secured shut with a chain and massive padlock that looked strong enough to stop a locomotive. All the windows of the warehouse had been boarded up with plywood.
“We should walk around the perimeter of the building,” said Sam.
Quietly, almost afraid of making a sound, they walked through a century of trash and foliage, pausing to listen but hearing nothing except an occasional chirping from a male bird trying to seduce a female.
As they rounded the last corner, Sam thought he heard a scraping noise behind him. He drew his gun, motioning the others to be silent. But it was nothing, just a brief puff of wind blowing a branch of a tree against the building.
Oliver eyed his weapon, looking mortified. “Is that really necessary?”
“I wish it wasn’t,” Sam said. Given their experience in London, he wasn’t about to take any chances. He kept his gun down by his side.
“What, exactly, are you looking for?” Oliver asked.
“Not sure yet. Something out of place. Hoping I’ll recognize it when I see it.”
He paused in front of the building across the street, noticing a camera mounted near the roofline and pointed toward the Payton warehouse. “Who owns that place?”
Oliver looked in the direction of the camera. “I haven’t the faintest.”
“Might be worth it to find out.”
“He had to have climbed in one of these,” Remi said, pointing to one of several boarded-up windows along the front. “The others around back are too high.”
In fact, the lower part of the window frame was a little over waist-high. “He doesn’t really have the upper body strength to pull himself up,” Oliver said.
Remi checked out the camera on the other building. “Seems like an odd choice of entry for someone committing a crime.”
Sam walked over to the recessed door leading to the office. He motioned Oliver and Remi into the protected area.
He looked at Oliver. “What did your uncle keep in this warehouse?”
Oliver shrugged. “A few old cars and farm equipment he sold off when he needed the money.”
“Any chance we can get inside?”
