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His threat should annoy me, but instead there’s an odd warmth that suffuses my chest at the concern lingering in his gaze. “Give me two hours before you start to worry.” I plan to be done in one, but no need for him to get trigger-happy if I’m gone longer.
He nods and sits back in his seat. “Be careful. Come back to me.”
I’m out of the car before I can analyze the way Charlie said that last line. The quiet of the night presses against me, the air thick with humidity. I’d be more comfortable in shorts and a T-shirt, but I need to blend into the shadows as much as possible. I even have a ski mask tucked in my fanny pack.
Yes, I’m breaking into an illegal chop shop wearing a fanny pack. It’s convenient. Deal with it.
To get to the fire escape, I have to scramble on top of a dumpster and jump to catch the bottom rung. Luckily, chin-ups are a regular part of my workout routine, and I only struggle a little to pull myself up the ladder. Things get easier when I reach the first small landing, the ascent turning into stairs for the next five stories. The rusty metal squeaks under my weight. I step carefully to lessen the volume of my passage.
Maybe Charlie would have felt more at ease if he’d known I snuck out here the first night we got to town to scope things out. I know that this is a huge risk. That my discovery could put the entire deal with Uncle Mike at risk.
When I committed to doing this, I knew I had to do it right.
That’s how I know the jump between the buildings is six feet. A leap that may seem daunting but is completely doable.
I crouch on the ledge, scanning the opposite rooftop for movement. Just like I expected, the expanse is empty. Before taking this next step, I slip on my ski mask. With a great heave, I launch myself across the narrow gap, tucking my body to roll over the rough surface of the roof in a less-than-graceful landing. If I’d put too much focus on landing feet first, I would’ve shortened my range and put myself in danger of missing my mark.
I stay on the ground, listening closely for the pound of footsteps in case my jump alerted someone to my presence.
Five full breaths, and nothing.
Good.
Like I’d hoped, the lock on the roof door is a simple key one. From my fanny pack, I pull out a set of slim metal picks. I could probably get the thing open with a bobby pin, but that’s a last-ditch effort kind of tool. Going into a pick job, might as well bring the best equipment.
I get the door open in less than a minute. Not my fastest time, but I’m only racing against the two-hour mark.
My adrenaline creeps up as I enter the building. The stairwell is dark, giving me the sensation of being trapped. I’d rather have more space. Freedom to choose to run if the need calls for it.
Pushing the claustrophobic fear aside, I take quick yet quiet steps down the stairs. When I reach the second floor, I’m faced with a decision. Mike’s office or the garage first?
I have no idea what kind of information Mike keeps here. If any. Although I’m less likely to run into someone in the offices, I go down one more floor.
There are slim windows in the stairwell doors, and I peer through the one on the first floor. I don’t see anyone, and when I crack the door open with careful hands, I don’t hear anyone walking around either. However, I spy a blueish glow and hear muffled voices from below the doorway down on the opposite end of the hall. The doorway I walked through all those weeks ago when I came to ask about Leo.
Must be where the night guard is, and it sounds like he’s watching TV to pass these late—or early—hours.
If I’m lucky, the guy will be fully passed out in there.
Now it’s just a game of Russian roulette with these other doors. Based on where the garage opening is on the outside of the building, I know I need to check to my right. That leaves me with three options.
The first turns out to be a janitorial closet. The second is a small, not very clean bathroom.
Third door’s the charm.
Moving as delicately as I can, I turn the knob and find myself in an office with large glass windows that look out over a garage area dimly lit by an overhead lamp in the corner.
Crouching low, I enter the office and shut the door behind me. Don’t need the guard coming into the hall for a bathroom break and seeing anything out of order.
I crawl across the floor to the entrance of the garage, pressing myself to the wall just inside the open doorway. After listening for a full minute, I can confidently say there is no one in the large room unless they’re trying to be as stealthy as I am.
Remaining low, I enter the space. There are eight cars in all states of disassembly. From what I know, Mike’s guys work fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break these down and have them gone by the end of the week.
Better to move hot product than hold on to it.
From my fanny pack, I pull out a small flashlight and my phone. After roughly fifteen minutes, I’ve found the VIN numbers on each car and snapped a picture. By the time I’m done, I’m sweaty and covered in dust from crawling under the low carriages.
Knowing Charlie’s anxiety must increase by the minute, I send the photos to him with a brief message.
