I’d been riding around for almost an hour, trying to blow off a little steam by putting my company car through the test of the winding curves of the parkways between Queens and Brooklyn at 100 miles an hour. I wasn’t usually this reckless, but I’d finally had my conversation with my uncle about the $50,000 we needed to get Stephanie’s pictures, and he refused to loan me the money once I told him what it was for. Surprisingly, his reason was similar to the one Jay had used when we talked about it on the boat.
“Giving money to a blackmailer is like giving a stranger your bank card and PIN. Eventually they’re going to take you for every dime you own,” he said, chuckling as he walked toward the door to leave my office. “You and your friends sit tight and let me take care of this. You’ll have a much better outcome in the long run, and more money in your pockets.”
“Take care of it how?” I asked doubtfully. “We’re supposed to deliver the money tonight.”
He turned and gave me an icy stare. “There are advantages to being a Duncan that you haven’t even imagined, young man. But then again, you don’t really wanna be a part of this family, do you? So don’t ask what you don’t want to know. I said I’d take care of it.”
His words kept ringing in my ear, until I felt like my head was going to fucking explode. I had to get the hell out of there. I was no good to anyone at the office anyway. I needed to go for a drive or something until I could get my thoughts straight, and where better to go than to take a drive to 1000 Atlantic Avenue?
That address on the piece of paper that strange guy at the office had left for Orlando had me curious. Sure, the address had nothing to do with me, but driving out to Brooklyn to check it out would give me something else to focus on so I could take my mind off of Steph and those pictures.
I found the address and pulled over to park on Atlantic Avenue. From the outside, it didn’t look like much. A big tattered FOR LEASE sign was hung on the front of the building, and although there were awnings over a few of the doors, nothing seemed to be open. To be honest, it looked like the place was abandoned.
I turned the car off and sat staring at the building for a minute, wondering if maybe Orlando was looking for some new warehouse space. It sounded like a simple enough explanation, but if it were true, then why did that guy come to my office acting like he was on a damn spy mission or something? My gut told me there was more to this.
“Why do you care what this place is?” I asked out loud, trying to talk myself out of doing the inevitable. Part of me understood that if I didn’t turn around and take my black ass back to the office, I might not ever go back. Working for my uncle had been great, better than expected, but if I stumbled on something that changed my mind about the family business, I would not be able to go back with a good conscience, no matter how much I needed the job.
So far, I’d been able to work for the Duncan family business without any guilt. I mean, I was just helping customers who were shopping for cars. If there was truth to the rumors I’d heard all my life, I didn’t see any evidence of it at Duncan Motors—and I sure as hell didn’t go looking for it. Everybody knows that if you keep looking for something long enough, you’re sure to find it, and I didn’t want to find anything that would mess up my employment. So I kept my head buried in my work, collected my salary, and went home to my wife with a clean conscience every night. Until now.
There was no talking myself out of this one. I was here now, and I couldn’t resist the urge to get out of my car and find out more about this warehouse.
The large doors on the front of the building were covered by metal grates and secured by padlocks, so I went around to the back of the building. Maybe there were some windows I could peek in, so I could satisfy my curiosity and then get the hell out of there.
There was a nondescript white box truck parked in the back, a dumpster, and just like I’d hoped, a few windows. I walked over and pressed my forehead against the glass of one window, hands on either side of my face, to see if the place was as abandoned as it looked.
It was a big warehouse, big enough for two Duncan Motors trucks to be parked in there. Maybe Orlando had already rented the place, I thought. I saw the man who handed me the note back at the office. I quickly ducked back down.
I walked over to another window and looked inside, where I saw a few guys moving around. I recognized two of them from the service department. That was weird. Why would they be over here in Brooklyn if they worked in the Queens dealership?
While I was busy trying to figure that one out, another guy came into the warehouse, and this one was heavily armed. Oh, shit! I ducked down before anyone spotted me at the window. I had definitely seen enough. I didn’t know exactly what they were doing in there, but it had nothing to do with selling luxury cars, and it damn sure had nothing to do with me.
I quickly headed back to my car and started it up. With my heart racing, I looked into the rearview mirror to make sure no one was on the sidewalk who might have seen me there. I was about to put my car in drive when I felt the hard metal against the side of my head.
“Don’t fuckin’ move.”
Oh, shit! Why didn’t I keep my head in the fucking sand?