Chapter 6 — The Warehouse by the River
I nearly dropped the letter.
Caleb was still on the phone.
“You said Adrian was driving.”
“He was.”
“Erin says you were.”
Caleb stopped breathing.
I reached my truck.
“Tell me the truth.”
“She was confused.”
“She wrote it before she died.”
“Erin lied for a living.”
“So do you.”
“Rowan—”
I hung up.
Dana caught up before I could start the engine.
“You are not going alone.”
“This doesn’t involve you.”
“A missing minor from my hospital involves me.”
“She ran away.”
“She left without her prosthetic liner, antibiotics, or coat. That isn’t running away. That’s being taken.”
I looked toward the entrance.
“Did anyone see her leave?”
“A nurse saw her with a man in maintenance coveralls.”
My uniform.
Someone had used my profession to make her trust him.
Dana climbed into the passenger seat.
“I’ve already called police.”
“They’ll take too long.”
“That sentence is how people end up dead in the first act.”
“This isn’t a movie.”
“No. In movies, social workers have reasonable hours.”
I started the truck.
The rain began halfway to the river.
Dana read Erin’s letter in silence.
When she reached the part about Caleb, she looked at me.
“You believe her?”
“I don’t know.”
“You called your brother?”
“He admitted being there.”
“But not driving.”
“No.”
“You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“Angry people hear the version that hurts most.”
I glanced at her.
“You think I should trust him?”
“I think you should stop deciding what happened before you have proof.”
It was sensible advice.
I hated it.
The Cross Medical warehouse stood behind a chain-link fence, abandoned except for one light burning on the second floor.
The gate was unlocked.
Dana reached for her phone.
“No signal.”
“Convenient.”
“Terrifying, actually.”
We entered through a side door.
The ground floor smelled of mold and motor oil.
Old hospital beds lined the walls.
Plastic curtains shifted in the draft.
“Maisie?” I called.
No answer.
We found drops of blood near a freight elevator.
Fresh.
The elevator’s call button was dead.
I opened the control panel.
The wires had been cut.
Dana looked at me.
“Can you fix it?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Longer than using the stairs.”
We climbed.
On the second floor, we heard voices behind a steel door.
A man said, “Where did your mother put the drive?”
Maisie answered, “I don’t know.”
A slap cracked through the room.
I reached for the handle.
Dana caught my sleeve.
“Wait.”
I looked at her.
“There may be weapons.”
“What do you suggest?”
She pointed to an old ventilation grate.
We moved quietly into the adjoining room.
Through the opening, I saw Maisie tied to a chair.
Her prosthetic leg had been removed.
A man in maintenance coveralls stood over her.
Not Caleb.
Not Adrian.
I had never seen him before.
Another man searched her backpack.
He found the newspaper clipping.
“This Rowan guy means something?”
Maisie lifted her chin.
“No.”
The man smiled.
“Then why were you looking for him?”
She said nothing.
He grabbed her injured thigh.
Maisie cried out.
I moved toward the door.
Dana whispered, “Rowan.”
I could not wait.
I stepped into the room.
“Take your hand off her.”
Both men turned.
The one holding Maisie reached inside his jacket.
Dana appeared behind me holding a rusted fire extinguisher.
“Please don’t make me use this,” she said. “It expired in 2014. I have no idea what comes out.”
The second man rushed us.
Dana sprayed him directly in the face.
A cloud of white powder filled the room.
I tackled the first man.
We hit the floor.
He struck me across the jaw.
I drove my shoulder into his chest.
The second man stumbled blindly toward Dana.
Maisie tipped her chair sideways into his knees.
He crashed down.
Police sirens sounded outside.
The first man broke free and ran toward the freight elevator.
He forced the doors apart.
There was no car behind them.
I grabbed his jacket before he stepped into the empty shaft.
For one second, he dangled over darkness.
“Who sent you?” I shouted.
He looked up at me.
Then he smiled.
“Your brother.”
May you like
His jacket tore.
And he vanished into the shaft.
