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Trust me, you will.
We pull to a stop in the old lot at the front entrance of the building. The first time I’m seeing it in person, but my digging online unearthed the old plans, and the floor layout has been memorized. The front entrance leads to a small set of offices before a secondary door opens to the large space where the logs used to be processed.
This particular company went under after production slowed, and the building has been let to be reclaimed by the wilderness rather than sold off. Rust blossoms like flowers on the steel exterior and along the frames of empty windows.
Broderick waits only for his three guards to exit the vehicle first and hold the door open for him before he shoves his way out into the chill of full evening. The red oaks and maples quake in a breeze I feel down to my bones.
“This is the place.” His hands slide into the pockets of his jacket as he stares at the rotting facade, giving nothing away.
“Absolutely,” I agree, pushing my own way out of the limo’s back seat. I teeter a little, close to losing my balance on gravel, and finally right myself. “It’s secluded, with only a handful of neighbors on either side and most of them over a mile away. The driveway is a right of way, and the land bordering it is a national park.”
“A rarity in this area.” Broderick sounds skeptical and a little disgusted.
“Not so rare it will raise suspicion should anyone see cars going in and out. I believe if we keep our activity covert, no one will suspect the usage of this place. It’s been out of business for at least twenty years.”
“And the owners?”
“Open to being bought out by one of our umbrella corporations.” I sent them a quick email last night only to receive a ping of response this morning on my way back to Broderick’s place.
Things are falling into place.
They better be. Theyhaveto be.
Naomi and Devan are nowhere around, and the gravel of the parking lot looks undisturbed in this fading light. Even if the sky weren’t darkening to full black yet, the shadow of the building and the woods does the trick.
But no tire tracks are visible to make Broderick suspicious. He gestures for his men to go ahead of us, and the first approaches the door. When the rusted handles show no give, the man kicks at the latch until the old wood creaks open.
The scent of age burns the inside of my nostrils. Or maybe it’s my imagination. Right now, my senses are on overdrive, and I see ghosts in the corner.
“Come.” Broderick barks the command at me, and I realize I’ve been standing several feet away from the rest of them.
Come, like I’m some kind of pet for him to snap his fingers, and I quiver or hold out my paw for a shake and a biscuit. The smile is still pinned in place, but I no longer feel my cheeks.
Broderick reaches back for me and grabs me by the wrist, tugging me to his side to keep me close. “How did you find this place again?”
I’ve already told him the story. Three times, to be exact. Still, I launch into the retelling or, rather, the fantasy I’ve concocted while the guards search the offices to make sure we’re absolutely alone. Once they’re satisfied that things are on the up and up, Broderick silently gestures to the door leading to the warehouse space. They open it, the hinges creaking, and the five of us shuffle into the old mill.
Most of the machinery has been hauled out and sold off. If I’d dug a little more, I would have been able to track the sales and see exactly where the old saws and the conveyor belts had been shipped to and where they are today. But I’d done my best with the cover story.
It’s the only thing I’m confident about today.
One of the guards covers his mouth, the dust in the air making him cough, and he swallows the sound so as not to disturb Broderick.
I point toward an empty corner, the windows too high for anyone to see in. “I figure you can convert this central area into the main base of operations. The north side of the building is best for…holding product.” Bile rises and scorches a line of pure fire along my throat.
It’s never going to make it that far. I’ll track down the kids he’s already stolen off the street and sold, but after tonight, no one else is going to suffer at his hands.
No one.
Including me.
Somewhere in this building, Naomi and Devan are waiting. I’ve just got to get Broderick to the center of the room, and then it will all be over.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, I see,” Broderick murmurs.
“That’s why you pay me the big bucks, isn’t it?” My voice echoes eerily off the rafters overhead. “You and I both know I’m worth every dime.”
With his goons in line behind and beside him, Broderick scopes out the space. He slicks a finger along the wall and comes away with an inch worth of old sawdust and grime. A grimace, a head shake, and one of the men rushes forward with a handkerchief to clean his finger for him.
