thirty-five

We backed up and checked all the offices, just to be sure. They were empty.

The door at the end of the hall opened into a big room with tables and folding chairs. It had whiteboards, all wiped clean. Meeting room or quality control, I guessed.

A set of steel double doors probably led to the sawmill floor. Adam started heading that way, but I wanted to search systematically.

A glance inside the other two doors identified both rooms as storage. One was mostly empty. The other was jam-packed with crap.

Adam walked into the nearly empty one and shone his light around.

“Boxes,” he murmured. “Doesn’t look like they’ve been touched in months so—”

I stopped him and tilted his flashlight until it illuminated the dusty floor. It was covered in footprints.

I walked over to the nearest box. While it was battered and dirty, little of that dirt was actual dust. If the sawmill had been closed more than a year, there should be dust. According to the label, it was filled with office supplies.

“Explains the footprints,” Adam said. “Someone’s been swiping paper and pens. The security guard probably has a deal going with that real estate agent who runs the copy shop. Maybe she gives him the Radu company swag. They’re developers, so she probably gets tons of it.”

“Maybe. But why leave office supplies behind in the first place? I doubt the workers would have had any compunctions about stripping the place clean after they got their pink slips.”

The box was taped shut with shiny new packing tape, but the cardboard showed signs that tape had been applied and ripped off many times. I opened it. Inside I found another box, newer, with a logo for a company called Pharma-Link at a Canadian address. I tore it open. Inside were drugs. Prescription drugs.

“You’re shitting me,” I murmured.

I walked to the next box and opened it. More drugs. Adam ripped open another. Same thing. We went into the other storage one. It was packed with boxes.

“Guess we know what broughtJesse here,” Adam said. “He tracked down the destination for those deliveries Cody was getting.”

“His big illegal enterprise is importing prescription drugs from Canada? No wonder he was so worried about anyone finding out. After the white slavery rumors, this would have been such a disappointment.” I shook my head. “So the security guard is in on the scheme, letting Cody and his buddies store their stock here. Considering that the place is up for sale, no one would think it odd if they saw Cody driving into the sawmill. He probably has more stashed in the warehouses down the road, which is why Michael was checking them out. Only Jesse came straight to the source.”

So where was the security guard? And, more important, where was Jesse?

WE SPLIT UP to pick paths through the crap, just doing a quick check to make sure the room was vacant. I was moving aside a chair when I saw a boot sticking out from between two crates.

“Got something,” I whispered. I leaned over the crate to see a leg protruding from the boot. “Or someone.”

I could tell by the boot that it wasn’t Jesse—not his style. Nor were the ugly work pants.

A tarp lay across the body. I peeled it back as Adam came over. Underneath was a guy in his fifties with greasy gray hair. Adam checked for a pulse and shook his head.

I leaned over and saw the pool of blood under the body. He’d been shot in the back.

When I glanced up, Adam had his phone out. He glowered at it.

“Still no service?” I said.

He nodded.

I had no desire to be caught with another corpse. Yet I knew better than to suggest one of us run back to the Jeep and call for help. We couldn’t separate when my powers weren’t up to par.

“We’ll call as soon as we can,” I said. “We need to find—”

“Shit.”

Adam was staring at something on the other side of the boxes. I walked over and followed his gaze to another body, this one sitting against the wall, gun in his hand, wall behind him splattered with blood and brain. His face was covered in more blood, but I recognized it.

“Cody.”

“Guess we know who killed the guard,” Adam said. “And Claire. I just really hope Jesse didn’t do anything dumb like call him here, confront him, and send him over the deep end.”

“He didn’t commit suicide,” I said. “I had a hard time believing Tiffany would, but I absolutely cannot believe Cody did. The guy has the survival instincts of a barracuda. He’d never flip out, kill Jesse, kill the guard, then kill himself. Someone just wants to make it look as if he did.”

I headed for the door. “We need to find him.”

THE BIG SET of doors did indeed lead onto the sawmill floor—a huge open space filled with crap. Not crap, I guess. Machinery mostly. Here and there were blank spaces, as if those pieces had been sold. The remainder looked as if it dated from the sawmill’s opening.

Rooms were easy to search systematically while keeping an eye on the exit. This would be like searching an open forest, treacherous terrain filled with ambush spots.

“I’m going to cast my sensing spell,” I whispered.

Adam hesitated, then nodded.

The problem was knowing whether the spell was coming back negative because nothing was there or because it was shorting out. I could pick up faint pulses, though—rats, cats, or other critters. When I faced east, I caught the distant signs of a human-sized presence.

I pointed and nodded. Adam let out a sigh of relief. However much he’d been grumbling, he had been concerned about Jesse. Just more concerned about me.

I only hoped it was Jesse, and not the person who’d killed Cody and the guard.

I let Adam take the lead. He carefully picked his way past the machinery, avoiding stepping on any debris and announcing his presence.

As we passed a saw, blades covered, I heard the scuffle of a shoe on the concrete and spun, hands flying up in a spell. It failed. Someone knocked me to the ground. I caught a whiff of overwhelming BO.

Before I could fight back, Adam hauled the figure off me. Another stink filled the air—burning fabric. Adam threw my attacker aside. I leaped to my feet. There lay a middle-aged guy in a jacket so filthy I couldn’t guess at the color. Same went for the guy’s hair, and even the guy himself.

He scuttled back, gaze fixed on Adam looming over him.

“This is my spot,” the man whined. “Randy promised he wouldn’t give it to anyone else.”

I directed Adam’s attention to a nest of rags and boxes in the corner. Adam swore under his breath and reached into his back pocket.

“Is Randy the security guard?” I asked the homeless guy.

He nodded, still watching Adam.

“When did you last see him?” I asked.

“Yesterday. He brought me a sandwich.”

Adam plucked out a twenty and handed it to the guy. “We’ve been looking for a friend of ours who came in here. Have you seen anyone today?”

The man shook his head and took the money. “I just got here. I was down at the diner. They give me day-olds and yesterday’s newspapers if I come by at ten.”

“Did you see anyone here last night?”

“Wasn’t here last night. I’ve got another place in town. It’s better, but the lady in the building beside it calls the cops if she sees me there, so I don’t stay during the day.”

“We need you to get out of here,” Adam said. “It’s not safe right now.”

“This is my—”

“—place. We know that. And you can come back in the morning, but right now it’s not safe.”

The man crossed his arms. “You’ll take my stuff.”

I motioned to Adam that we needed to get going.

“Fine,” he said to the man. “Just stay put, okay? Don’t come out, no matter what you hear.”

“Is it a delivery?”

Adam nodded. “Yes, it’s another delivery, but we’ve got new guys and they’re nervous, so stay here and be quiet or they won’t let you stay, no matter what Randy says.”