EIGHTY-SEVEN

RED Hook was quiet as Lori dimmed the headlights and rolled to a stop in front of a shuttered auto-glass shop. Halfway down the block, the SUV we’d followed halted in front of the gate to Matt’s coffee warehouse.

In the glow of a streetlight, I watched Matt exit the vehicle and punch in the code to open the gate.

“He should run for it,” Lori whispered. “Lots of places to hide around here.”

“He won’t. Matt doesn’t know his mother and I are safe. He’ll do whatever they demand of him in order to protect us.”

We both started when the police radio crackled to life.

“Detective Soles, ten-seven, at once . . .”

Lori muted McNulty’s voice. “Call Quinn. Tell him we need backup.”

I’d tried to call him before, to warn that the vehicles had split up, but Quinn didn’t answer. He didn’t pick up this time, either. We both knew our timing wasn’t the best. The Village Blend van should be arriving at the terminal right about now, and anything could be happening, including a firefight.

In desperation I sent a text message:

Thieves SUV at java warehouse red hook. Send help, ASAP

By now, Matt had deactivated the warehouse alarm, and opened the building’s big garage door. The SUV rolled into the bay, and the steel door descended behind it.

“What do we do while we’re waiting for reinforcements?” Lori asked.

“Go in.”

Her eyes bugged. “That’s crazy, Cosi. We wait for backup.”

“There’s no time. I watched Matt. He didn’t reset the gate alarm—”

“So?”

“So they won’t need him to unlock it, which means they’re not taking him when they leave.” I paused to let that sink in. “They’re going to kill him, Lori. Just like that bodyguard was supposed to kill Madame and me.”

“But that SUV had tinted windows. We couldn’t see inside. We don’t know how many perps are in there!”

I shrugged. “How many could there be?”

“That model seats eight.”

I swallowed hard.

“Call Quinn again,” Lori insisted.

I popped the door. “You call him. I’m going in.”

“Fine!” Lori threw up her hands. “We’ll both go. But I take the lead. I’m the detective, remember?”

We exited the car and stuck to the shadows as we approached the warehouse. Clouds blocked the moon as we slipped through the gate and across the parking lot. We didn’t stop until we hugged the warehouse wall.

In my wobbly heels and party dress, I felt like a heroine in a French Resistance movie. Then Lori drew her weapon and things turned serious.

“Here.” She passed me something hard and cold. “It’s Mace, and not the wussy kind. With that you could stun a horse.”

Lori showed me how to use it, and I slipped the cylinder into my bra.

“Okay, Cosi. You know the layout. What’s the plan?”

“We’ll go in through the front door and slip into Matt’s office. They won’t even know we’re inside.”

“Unless they’re in Matt’s office,” came Lori’s less-than-heartening reply.

Fortunately, once we got inside, we could see the office was dark and empty, except for dirty laundry and too many additions to Matt’s empty wine bottle collection.

“I hear voices,” Lori whispered.

“Me too. They’re still in the garage.”

We peeked around the door, into the empty hall.

“Give me the layout, Cosi.”

“The door on the left, the one with the window, leads to the hermetically-sealed, climate-controlled space where coffee beans are stored. The door on the right is a bathroom. At the end of the hall there’s a door to the garage and interior loading dock.”

We paused as more voices echoed from the garage.

“Stay here,” Lori commanded. “I’m going to find out how many we’re dealing with, and figure out a way to get the drop on them.”

Leading with her weapon, Detective Soles left the office and cautiously approached the climate-controlled room. She was about to peek through the window when the door flew open, striking her with a loud crash. Lori bounced off the opposite wall and tumbled to the floor.

A Lyons Global Security guard burst out of the room, fist raised for a fight. But Lori was already down for the count.

With an angry grunt, he very gently closed the climate-controlled room’s door. When he faced the unconscious detective again, his expression was anything but gentle.

With a bull neck and broad shoulders, this rogue security guard could have easily played Panther Man. I watched while he used gloved hands to scoop up Lori’s gun and yank the clip free. He cursed when he spied the NYPD shield, but continued to search until he found a spare ammunition clip in her belt.

He dropped the empty gun beside the detective’s still form. Still clutching the ammo clips, he turned—and headed right for me.