Page 11 of Shattered Dreams

“If that’s how the cops found out. Could’ve been an anonymous tip.”

That’s true, too. My mind must be frozen if I can’t come up with this stuff myself. That, or all that’s in my brain right now is Zarah. How she’s doing. What she and Stella will have done atthe spa. I hope she doesn’t cut her hair. I like tangling my fingers in it.

And . . . that’s none of my business anymore.

I sigh.

Pop flicks me a look. “It will jab at you every now and then.”

I don’t have to ask what he’s talking about. “Yeah.”

Baby presses against my leg, quivering with excitement.

“Go,” I shoo her, and she doesn’t waste any time scrambling away, her nails scratching against the concrete.

“Got a light switch somewhere?” Pop asks, searching the walls for a way to turn the overhead bulbs on.

“I don’t see anything.”

“Fuck. I’m not gonna like being in here in the dark.” He turns the flashlight on, and we follow after Baby, weaving around the aisles of black metal shelving. They’re all empty and covered in a thick layer of dust. This place hasn’t been used in any capacity for quite some time.

There aren’t any windows, no natural sunlight to see by. Pop sweeps the area in wide arcs and the bluish light disturbs a couple of sleeping birds hiding from the cold. Feathers fluttering, they fly to a different area of the warehouse.

I point toward the ceiling, asking him to aim the beam along the walls, and I note the lack of cameras. Either they were taken down previously, or they weren’t installed in the first place.

“Cold.”

“A body won’t decay in these temps.”

“How long was she in here?” Pop asks, brushing a glove over a shelf coated in grime.

“I don’t know. Three or four days? More? Depends on when they snatched her. Zarah cut her loose after New Year’s Day and she said Ingrid didn’t hang around to say goodbye. That still leads me to think she was pissed about getting fired, thought she’d try to sell some information and it went sideways.”

“Could be. Either she didn’t have what they were hoping for, or she got greedy.” His breath puffs out white in the cold. It’s several degrees below freezing in here. Was that deliberate, or a happy coincidence?

Baby starts barking, and we trot to another section of the warehouse. This area is just as big, full of empty wooden crates, pallets, and more metal shelving.

Yellow police ribbon cuts off access to a corner of the room, and a large red stain, so dark it’s almost black, covers the grey cement.

Baby noses around the spot, whimpering. The coppery scent of blood still hangs in the air, along with the heavy weight of death. The space is full of pain and it stabs at my skin until my head aches. Ingrid didn’t die peacefully.

There’s blood spatter on the walls, and dried blood coats long thick chains hanging from the rafters. Images of Ingrid strung up where they tortured her until she died will live in my brain forever.

Not that I know that’s what happened, but the amount of blood, the isolation...my idea she was dumped here is nothing but a pipe dream.

Pop turns green, and he clears his throat.

I grab the flashlight and he snaps a few pictures. Zane’s contact at the police department might be willing to give him more information or I can ask Ross, but it’s easier to have our own pictures on hand.

There’s a breakroom of sorts in the back, a coffeemaker full of frozen sludge, and an old, yellowed copy of theKCChroniclelays scattered on a long table. A white fridge sits next to a stainless steel sink, but I don’t care about what’s inside. From the looks of things, employees haven’t reported to work in a few years. But it hums—there’s still electricity running to the place.

“I guess that’s it, huh?” Pop asks.

“Let’s go upstairs. There were offices up there. I peeked into the windows when I was on the roof. Maybe we can at least figure out what this place was used for.”

We find a metal staircase tucked into a corner, almost out of sight, and we follow it up, Baby climbing the stairs, growling low in the back of her throat. She hasn’t liked it here since we parked in the lot, but I can understand why now.

The office area is warmer by a few degrees, and light shines through the frosted windows.

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