Page 35 of When You're Lost

Eleanor shut her notebook.“All right.So we’re looking for the Globe Secure Transport warehouse?That’s the name Leopold gave us?”

Finn nodded.“It should be here somewhere, according to the address.”He pointed to a large building down the row, a simple gray rectangle with a white sign stenciled on the metal siding.“I figure the forgeries might be made or swapped in there, if Leopold’s tip was correct.”

Eleanor drew a breath.“And your plan is to walk up to the warehouse manager, show him your consultant badge, and say ‘Let us in because we suspect you’re trafficking forged paintings’?”

Finn grinned, unbuckling his seat belt.“Plan A, yes.But I’ve got a Plan B in mind if that fails.”

She arched an eyebrow.“Which is…?”

He opened the car door, stepping out into the crisp air.“Sneaking around, of course.”

Eleanor followed, shutting the door behind her.“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Finn shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.“Bad ideas are often where good ideas start.”

“That’s not how ideas work,” she muttered, casting an exasperated look.

Finn let out a short laugh.“Maybe not in the rational world, but it’s how they work in my head.”

They walked across the asphalt toward the main loading bay of Globe Secure Transport, passing a few parked lorries and a forklift humming near the side.A high fence ringed the property, and signs warned of restricted access, authorized personnel only.

After showing IDs at a small booth by the entrance, they found themselves directed to a warehouse supervisor standing near a pair of large steel doors.The supervisor—an imposing figure in a security uniform—eyed them warily as they approached.

"Afternoon," Finn said, flashing his Home Office consultant badge."I'm Finn Wright, and this is Dr.Matthews.We're working for the Home Office, assisting the Police on a murder investigation connected to forged paintings.We'd like to talk to whoever is in charge and have a look around, if possible."

The supervisor kept his stance broad, crossing his arms.“Forged paintings?We handle legitimate shipping and storage of high-value art, nothing forged here.”

Eleanor stepped in.“We believe some items in your care may be connected to multiple murders.It’s crucial we have a look.”

The supervisor’s expression hardened.“I’m sorry, but you can’t just walk in.Our clients pay us to maintain the strictest security.Unless you have a warrant from a judge, you’re not getting anywhere near the inventory.”

Finn exchanged a glance with Eleanor.Plan A was clearly hitting a wall.“We can get a warrant,” he said, meeting the supervisor’s gaze.

“Fine,” the supervisor said, “come back with one.Until then, I can’t let you in.Gerard would kill me.”He turned on his heel, walking away.

Eleanor sighed under her breath, stepping back to Finn’s side.“That went well.”

“Nothing we didn’t expect,” Finn replied with a shrug.“I wonder who Gerard is?Shall we move to Plan B?”

She folded her arms.“I’m not thrilled about sneaking around a high-security warehouse.You realize we could land in serious legal trouble.”

A faint grin touched Finn’s lips.“We also could discover who’s forging paintings and killing people, or at least how they’re swapping them.Worth a little risk, don’t you think?”

Eleanor huffed.“I suppose it’s your call.Lead the way.”

They retreated across the asphalt, away from the supervisor’s line of sight, watching the warehouse from behind a stack of wooden pallets.Two large loading dock doors stood open, and a truck rumbled up to one of them, reversing into position.Workers bustled around with trolleys, loading or unloading crates.

Finn studied the scene, noticing a white truck pulling in from the gate.Its rear was covered by a canvas tarp.It inched toward the second loading dock.“See that truck?Perfect.Let’s hop on.It’ll drive right in, and we can slip off inside.”

Eleanor blanched.“You’re insane.”

“Very possibly.”He turned to her with a wry smile.“But this is how we get results.Just… wait here, okay?”

She rolled her eyes.“I’m not standing alone in some industrial estate with suspicious employees gawking at me.If you’re hopping onto a moving truck, I’m coming too.”

Before he could protest, she darted forward, timing her steps so she wouldn’t be spotted by the forklift drivers or the supervisor.Finn cursed under his breath and hurried after her.The truck slowed as it neared the dock, and the driver seemed occupied with reversing.Finn grabbed the tailgate, hoisting himself up quickly, and Eleanor followed, scrambling onto the rear ledge.

They ducked under the heavy canvas flap, settling into the dim interior, whispering frantically.

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