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“Next time, don’t leave me behind.”
Harris shot her a look, but turned to the rest of the room. “Did you find anything?”
Cassie held up the pamphlet. “From the jewelry store.”
“I saw the truck out back. Figured we were in the right place. Glad Armando didn’t try to screw us with a wrong address. There were a few more cars, too. There might be people upstairs. Have you heard anything?”
Cassie was only half paying attention. She raised a hand and pointed to the far corner of the warehouse. “Those look like our filing cabinets.”
They were lined up against the back wall. It was the most organized section of the entire building. Cassie wondered who put them here, and why they cared so much about these filing cabinets and not the rest of the space.
She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. A chill traveled down her spine while a featherlight touch of heat brushed past her cheek. She could see a shadow hovering next to the cabinet at the end. It looked thicker than the surrounding darkness. Three-dimensional.
She held the phone out for Harris.
“That’s terrifying,” Harris said.
“It’s not here to hurt us.”
“Hey, you’re the expert. I’m just the muscle.”
Cassie walked up to the cabinet and touched the handle of the top drawer and immediately pulled back. “It’s ice cold.”
“Well, it’s not like the building has great insulation.” Harris swept an arm toward all the broken windows.
How could Cassie explain it felt colder than normal? That the moment she touched it, ice had enveloped her hand and pulled her closer, as if it never wanted her to let go.
Cassie moved on to the next drawer, only slightly warmer. The next one down felt normal. Beneath that, the metal was nearly warm to the touch. Only when she got to the fifth drawer did she realize this was the one they’d been searching for. It was scorching.
Using the sleeve of her jacket, she pulled it open. Harris leaned forward to look inside. “Empty.”
“It has to be this one.” Cassie stuck her hand inside, hoping she could feel what she couldn’t see. “There’s no other explanation.”
“Do ghosts ever play practical jokes on you?”
Cassie glared up at her. “No.”
Harris raised her hands in surrender. “Just wondering.”
A clang and a crash made them jump. Voices drifted forward from the opposite end of the warehouse, but they couldn’t make out any words. One of the few pieces of machinery that hadn’t been moved was the only thing between them and the newcomers.
Harris yanked open the top drawer, then methodically moved through them one at a time. But they were all empty. She swore again. “Are you sure—?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Cassie hissed. “It’s this one. I know it is.”
Harris reached past her and pulled hard enough on the handle that the whole cabinet wobbled. There was a loud screech as the metal ground against the concrete below. The voices stopped. Harris let go of the drawer.
“We have to leave. Now,” Harris said.
Cassie shook her head. “Not yet. I know this is it.”
With a pounding heart, Cassie got down
on her hands and knees and peered into the drawer one last time. Harris must’ve shaken something loose because at the very back of the cabinet, between its outer wall and the back of the drawer, was a crumpled file. It had slipped down behind a drawer. This was it. This was what the ghost had been trying to tell her about.
“Cassie, come on.”
“I see something.”
