11:26 p.m.
Jacob glanced at the bathroom door when the water stopped running and the shower panel slid across the overhead curtain rod. Lying on the bed, he went back to the cold pizza slice he held, inches from his mouth, before dropping the wedge onto an open cardboard box. Pizza at eleven o’clock at night...he touched his stomach, Great way to turn my six-pack into a twelve-pack. “So the DEA wants Moses on charges of drug possession and trafficking. Obviously, they haven’t found him yet. Have you been able to dig up any leads on where he might be?”
“Mr. Falcone’s last known whereabouts,” said Higs, “was Washington state—in the Seattle area, two years ago.”
Jacob switched the phone to the other ear and wiped his fingers with a napkin. “Amber told me Pier 57 is a geographic region, not an actual pier. Can you include that information in your searches?”
“Of course…where exactly is this Pier 57?”
“She said it was located along a truck route…23…in Watford City. Maybe you can cross reference that with everything you have on Moses and get a hit.”
“I’ll initiate a search at once.”
Jacob looked up when the bathroom door opened.
Wearing the same clothes, Amber strolled into the room, running a towel over wet hair.
“Thanks Higs.” He ended the call, swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood.
She glanced at Jacob. “I’m glad to see you’re still here. I half expected you to take off without me.” She bent over, sandwiched her hair between towel ends and vigorously rubbed hands back and forth. A minute later, she righted herself, threw her hair back and continued patting her head. Seeing the look on his face, she stopped. “What’s with you?”
He jutted his chin at her. “Thanks for the advice.”
After frowning for a split-second, she smiled. “So I was right.”
Jacob grinned and nodded his head.
She went back to drying her hair. “I told you. Women want to talk to their man.” A moment passed. “So how’d it go? Were you able to calm the savage beast?” She poked her face out from the white cotton. “Just kidding…is everything okay between you two?”
“Yes…” Studying the carpeting, he slipped hands into front pants pockets and came around the foot of the bed. “Thank you. Now I’ll be able to better focus on the task at hand.” Standing in front of Amber, he regarded her. “I want to go to this Pier 57. You game?”
She tossed the towel and combed her hair with her fingers. “You bet. Let’s go.”
… … … … …
11:59 p.m.
The Challenger headed west on 23, traversing the same stretch of roadway for a second time. Jacob rotated his head back and forth, as he observed every building on both sides of the street. He turned the steering wheel and navigated a bend.
“We’re,” Amber pumped her hands downward, “pretty much in the heart of Pier 57 right here. It extends for a half mile in both directions.”
Jacob nodded, drove for a mile, turned around and made ready for another pass. “Tell me if you see anything out of the ordinary.”
She faced him. “Like what?”
He bobbed his head. That’s a good question. I’m not sure I even know what I’m— he grabbed his phone. “Go ahead, Higs. You’re on speaker with…a passenger.” There was a long pause.
Amber leaned closer. “Who’s Higs,” she whispered?
Holding up a hand, Jacob shushed her. “Higs, you there?”
“Who may I ask is with you?”
Glimpsing the woman next to him, “Amber,” he winced, “McNeil.” Another long pause. “I know what you’re thinking, Higs.”
“Do you? Because it seems we’ve had this conversation in the not-too-distant past, and you continue to disregard my counsel.”
Still hovering near Jacob, Amber frowned at him. “Why does he talk like that?” Getting a death stare similar to the one from the nightclub, she sat back in the seat.
“Trust me. Everything’s fine. Without Miss McNeil’s help, I’d still be looking for a body of water and a pier 57 sign.” He waited. “So you called me. You have something?”
“Indeed. I included new information from the DEA into the search parameters, as well as this Pier 57 location, and I believe I may have found something.”
Jacob pulled to the side of the road. “What is it?”
“There’s a two-story warehouse on the north side of truck route 23.”
Amber clutched Jacob’s arm. “I know the place.”
He glanced at her before going back to the cell. “And?”
“Ownership,” continued Higs, “is masked under several layers of shell companies. The last—and deepest—name among them is listed as T.M. Falcone. That can’t be a coincidence, Mr. St. Christopher.”
“I agree. It’s worth checking out.” To Amber: “Can you get me to this warehouse?”
She pointed. “It’s just up ahead. I know exactly where it is. It’s the only two-story building on this road.”
“All right, Higs, I’ll let you know what I find.” After tapping the ‘end’ button and checking the side mirror, Jacob moved his foot to the gas pedal. “Where is this building?”
“It’s right there at the bend in the road, on the left.”
His mind seeing the image of a structure, he nodded. Approaching the warehouse, he slowed the Dodge before entering a parking lot on the right. He stopped the car—facing the building in question—and shut off the headlights. “That must be it there?”
“Yeah.”
Jacob grabbed a pair of binoculars from the backseat and scanned the property.
Paint peeling from its sides and metal doors rusting, the old factory was surrounded by an eight-foot high, chain link fence. Several potholes littered the driveway. Weeds grew through cracks in the concrete. No business signs were visible. The condition of the building and property indicated the land was most likely no longer being used for commercial purposes.
A vehicle entered his view, and he lowered the field glasses to watch an SUV drive up to the gate. An arm appeared from the driver’s window. Jacob put the glasses to his face. The driver swiped a card near a box. The gate rolled right, opening.
Amber pointed. “At least we know it’s still being used.”
He slowly nodded. Used for what? That’s the question. The vehicle stopped in front of a tall, wide door. The passenger got out, opened the back door and hauled two young girls to their feet. The man’s head pivoted in all directions, as he hustled the women to a white, rusty door. Another man fell in behind the females. The foursome disappeared into the building seconds before the big door rolled up, swallowed the SUV and closed.
Jacob set the binoculars on his lap.
Amber huffed. “What was that all about?”
Pursing his lips and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he thought of the woman’s sister. “I’m not sure.” But I don’t think they willingly went into that place.
“Do you think Felicity’s in there?”
Jacob put an elbow on the door and stroked his chin. “I don’t know.”
“Are we going to check it out? What if she is?”
He checked his watch, pivoted and spied a black duffel bag in the backseat, his mind envisioning the items inside.
“Jacob?”
He glimpsed her and faced forward. “I’m going to check it out.” He undid shirt buttons. “You’re going to keep your butt parked right here.”
“But—”
He confronted her. “What was our agreement?”
Amber closed her mouth and sat straight. “Fine.”
Still eyeing her, he undid another button. “Yeah, you’ve said that before…back at the nightclub.”
“And I ended up saving your life too.” She tipped her head to the side. “By the way, you never did thank me for that.”
“Thank you…” he shouldered open the door, “for disobeying me.”
Amber watched him climb into the back seat. “I guess that’s fair.” She waited a beat. “You’re welcome anyway.”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
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