From what I could gather, Leeds owned real estate under various business holdings. In fact, the only files he appeared to have in his almost empty house were real estate deeds. He had a number of deals going, with both residential and commercial properties. At first I’d thought it would be impossible to sift through all the files to figure out where he might be keeping Kendra, but I could ignore the houses, which made up the majority of the properties. The paperwork for warehouses was neatly filed under W in Leeds’s file cabinet.
Riffling through the listings as fast as I could, I found the ones he’d labeled occupied and paying rent and the ones that were empty. It did seem a little weird that all the man had in his file cabinets was information on his properties—no personal information, no credit card bills, no medical records. Now, however, was not the time to think about it.
Turned out Leeds owned the huge vacant warehouses down near the waterfront. It never occurred to me anyone actually owned those buildings; they had been inactive for as long as I could remember. The tan-brick buildings hulked behind tall, chain link fences. Over the years the structures had housed a variety of businesses—lumber mill, a slaughterhouse, a chemical plant. Now they held more broken windows than glass, and their dilapidated appearance brought down the value of the whole area. Plans to renovate came and went. Issues of pollution and the high cost of cleanup compounded the difficulties of launching a major renovation in an economic downturn. For now, the buildings slowly decayed, as ideas for their razing or rebuilding swirled around them.
Few other businesses were open nearby. There was a Puget Sound Energy substation, which ran twenty-four hours a day but employed few people, none of whom were likely to be wandering around in the dark. There was also an old building near the train tracks converted over to offices, but those were all nine-to-five businesses and the occupants wouldn’t be around this early in the morning.
Leeds’s buildings also had plenty of access doors big enough to drive through, making it easy to transport Kendra inside the building without being seen. And they were far enough away from everything else that she would never be heard even if she could scream for help.
I guided Chava through the still dark streets, not needing the Thomas Brothers once I got us back to a main arterial. It now being closer to 5:00, a few people were out driving around, but the utter darkness of winter kept us anonymous. Bread truck drivers, newspaper delivery personnel, and a few other early morning workers all sped by, too engaged in not spilling their hot coffees in their laps to pay attention to us.
Chava turned off Water Avenue and swung down the side street toward Leeds’s property. We could see the large, ramshackle buildings, set back from the road in the concrete sea of a parking lot, halfway to the water. The distinctive orange glow of a low-sodium security light mounted on the largest building lit up the surrounding area. The wide expanse of concrete felt like the length of a football field, though I guessed it was only one hundred feet across. Even if I could get over the fence, I would be horribly exposed while crossing the empty lot—as obvious as a woman breaking out of Purdy Prison.
The place did feel like it should have its own guard tower.
“Why would someone who owned multiple properties live in such a crappy house?” Chava asked.
“Good question. I’ve been wondering that myself.”
“And?”
“And I think we find Kendra first and ask questions about Mr. Leeds later.”
“Where do you want me to park?”
I had to admit, Chava didn’t have any trouble getting with the program.
“Let’s park down there,” I said, pointing to another dark warehouse catty corner from where Leeds’s buildings sat deteriorating. “Tuck in against the side of that building, where you can see the warehouses but won’t be obvious to anyone walking by.”
“Does this mean I’m staying in the car again?”
“Yes. You are going to stay here with the cellphone. But instead of a time limit, you’re just going to wait. Call the police if anyone else drives up or you hear gunshots or—”
“Gunshots!” she cut me off. “I thought you were exaggerating about actual danger.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“What if you’re in trouble inside? A lot can happen to you in there where I can’t see you. What if he surprises you? I’ll have no way of knowing if—”
“Stop!” I said before she could list any of the things Leeds might do to me if he took me by surprise. “Usually, I have to do this kind of thing with no one waiting on me at all, so you’ve doubled my assistance. I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t going to tell Chava that usually I didn’t do this kind of thing at all, but I figured that wouldn’t build her confidence in me.
Or build mine in myself, for that matter.
When she started to speak again, I pulled her close in a hug. I don’t know which one of us was more surprised by my action, but I will say, it did shut her up.
“Keep the phone charging,” I said, plugging it back in and setting it on the dash. “It’s right here if you need it. See you soon.”
With that, I climbed out of the car and closed the door behind me. The soft clunk sounded loud to my ear, though no one was around to hear it anyway. Without looking back, I struck off to my left, staying in the shadows until I could no longer see the front of the warehouses. Then I crossed the street and tucked up against the fence. I carefully worked my way around the south end to the far side of Leeds’s property, away from any street traffic that might appear, even this early in the morning. A few minutes later, I reached the water side of the warehouses, the fence line strung out along the lip of the concrete slab that ended at the edge of the bay.
From my new vantage point, I could see the lot in back of the warehouses also sat empty, with no cars anywhere in sight. The lighting on the front of the main building didn’t continue around the side or back, leaving the rest of the buildings without illumination.
I’d kept my eyes peeled for any kind of break in the fence, hoping there would be a place I could worm my way through. I wasn’t keen on trying to scale the chain link that towered over my head, especially given the concertina wire spiraled around the top, waiting to rip a trespasser to shreds.
Scanning the backside of the fence, I found what I was looking for. The good news was a section of the chain link was missing. The bad news was it was on the side facing the bay, so I was going to have to hang out over the water and climb across to where I could get through the gap. The most difficult part would be swinging around the corner of the fence where it made a 90-degree turn out over the water. A section of fence was missing there too; however, the concrete slab had also fallen away, so I couldn’t crawl underneath to the other side. I could reach a portion of fence still intact, but what I needed was something to help me swing through the missing section. Removing my gun from the holster and tucking it into my pants, I set the holster on the ground where I could pick it up on my return trip. Stretching out as far as I could reach, I threaded my belt through the chain link and buckled it, making a giant loop.
Swinging like Tarzan, or rather, Jane, I flew around the missing fence and caught my toes on the miniscule concrete ledge on the other side. Without stopping to think too much about the frigid water underneath me, I grabbed the chain link and secured my hold before dropping my makeshift trapeze.
Slowly, inch by inch, I worked my toes into the diamond shapes of the chain link to monkey my way the twenty or so feet to the space in the fence. My fingers felt like they might get ripped off my hands and my toes felt compressed into bricks by the time I reached the gap. Pulling myself through the hole, I started toward the largest warehouse, hoping after my physical antics I’d found the place Leeds had Kendra detained. The other buildings were mere skeletons, with large open gaps in doors or walls, so I guessed he’d have her stashed in the central warehouse, which remained the most complete.
I got to the back of the building without tripping and breaking an ankle on the uneven concrete in the dark, so I felt pretty good as I arrived at the back door. This one had a much more secure set of locks on it than Leeds’s house, including a chain and padlock, a door lock, and a few deadbolts. It also had a few fifty-five gallon drums standing against the back wall, underneath a clerestory window. I climbed up on top one of them, giving me just enough height to peer inside.
It was pitch dark. No lights on, nothing to help me. I waited, hoping my eyes would adjust even a little to the faint moonlight and low sodium glow from the light at the front, which proved to be all the light I was going to get.
After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, I could make out basic shapes inside the building. Large I-beams held up the ceiling. Giant metal racks and shelving units spread out around the walls and across the floor. White streaks covered everything, and I could hear the gentle cooing of pigeons tucked in for the night inside their abandoned urban dwelling.
Nothing moved below me. I carefully shined my flashlight through the window and checked out the room. At the far end to my left, I could see one interior door. The only other doors I could see in the whole place had images of stick figures—one male, one female.
I didn’t think there was any power on in the building, so I didn’t anticipate an alarm, but the locks were going to be a test of my skills. I didn’t see any other way in, however. The broken windows were high enough to be a challenge to climb through, and I didn’t see anything on the inside that would help me climb back out. The last thing I wanted was to get myself stuck inside with no cell, especially not knowing what kind of condition Kendra might be in.
Ten minutes later I had the padlock and chain off and the two deadbolts undone. I just had the lock in the door handle left to pick. My hands were cold, and I took a break between each lock to warm my fingers up before I tackled the next one. I guessed the temperature hovered right around twenty degrees, with the occasional gust of wind dropping it lower, making my task very uncomfortable.
I clenched my teeth around the penlight, my breath visible in the cold, and started on the final lock. The satisfying click confirmed my success.
I pushed open the door, bracing myself against the screech of an alarm, but heard nothing except blessed silence. Stepping into the warehouse, I pulled the door closed behind me and waited again for anything that would make me regret my plan of action. Visions of Doberman pinschers racing over to pounce on me danced through my head, but I appeared to have the warehouse to myself.
Clicking my flashlight on again to avoid falling over objects on the floor, I made my way over to the only door I could see that wasn’t a restroom. Kendra would have said if she was locked in a bathroom. Arriving there in one piece, I crouched down to put my ear against the wood and heard the faint sound of movement. Was it Kendra or someone else? Someone else who wouldn’t be quite so happy to see me.
I looked around for something to throw and finally found an abandoned ceramic coffee cup left behind by one of the former inhabitants. Hunched down behind a metal rack, I pulled my gun out in one hand and hurled the cup against the door with the other. The cup smashed gloriously against the solid wood door, but nothing happened. No one came out to investigate the source of the noise.
After a few minutes, I crossed back over to the door and crouched down to look at the lock. One more round with the lock picks and I had the door open—nothing but more darkness. I heard movement, but from what I couldn’t tell.
Shining my light around, I discovered Kendra, trussed and tied up and lying on a sofa, duct tape over her mouth. She lay under an old sleeping bag but was still shivering in the cold. I gave the small room a quick once over. No one else sat waiting for me in the dark, so I shoved my gun into the back of my waistband and rushed over to free Kendra.
After I ripped the duct tape off her mouth, she let out a hoarse cry. “That hurt,” she said.
“You’re welcome. Where’s Leeds?”
“I thought he went looking for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When he came in, he discovered I’d lifted his cellphone and made that call to you. That’s when he tied me up and duct-taped my mouth. Careful!” she said as I pulled out the Swiss army knife to cut the Zip Ties he’d used to bind her hands and feet.
“Why would he go looking for me? And why leave you here?”
“He didn’t think you’d find me. How did you, by the way?”
“Never mind that now. What was he going to do to me?”
“I told him I didn’t make any calls at all, that the battery died. But of course he just plugged it into a charger in his car and found your number. So I told him I got your voicemail and didn’t have time to leave a message before the battery failed. When he saw my call lasted less than a minute, he thought that might be true, but he didn’t want to take a chance. He was going to go over to your place and see if you were still there sleeping or if you had called the police or something.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. Why leave you here? Why not stuff you in the trunk again and take you with him?”
By this time I’d gotten her hands and feet unbound and was rubbing her extremities to get the blood going.
“Can you stand?” I asked. “Let’s just get out of here and you can explain it all later.”
Kendra stood, grimacing from the pain of pins and needles as the blood started circulating again.
“I’m all right,” she said, starting to limp toward the door. “Let’s go.”
We went out the way I came in, Kendra complaining loudly about climbing through the fence.
“What if I fall in the water?” she’d said.
“I can leave you here instead. The back door to the warehouse is still open; you can just wait for Leeds to come back.”
That shut her up, and she managed to climb the distance around the end of the fence onto solid ground, even navigating the place where my belt was the only handhold. Then it was my turn. I’d done this once before with no problem. I could do it again, right?
The wind picked up as I reached the gap where my belt hung. I stopped for a moment, waiting for the gust to settle. Looking down, all I could see was the black expanse of water several feet below.
Don’t look down, I told myself. Trust that you can do this. There’s nothing terrifying below you. I leapt.
Just as I started to swing across the opening, the wind returned with a vengeance. The power of it shook the chain link, pushing the water against the pilings beneath me and twisting me away from the fence.
The falling took me by surprise, but not as much as the sharp pain of the cold water hitting my face or the panic that overtook me as I could feel myself start to sink.