Storage units?
I had no idea these were here. Dark brown structures with burgundy-colored garage-style doors, some of them are open and empty. Others are closed and still locked. Some sit exposed with boxes or pieces of furniture abandoned inside as if they’ve been raided.
Pulling my collar back, he checks the numbers on the back of my shoulder again and continues around the corner. Everyone follows slowly behind until Lucas stops in front of number twenty-two. My heart pounds harder as I stare up at the stickers of the two twos, faded from years of sun and weather.
I study the back of my shoulder again.Two-eight-eight-four. I lock my gaze on the combination padlock still securing the unit’s door.
I shiver, thinking about whoever wrote it on me last night.
Lucas swings open his door, and I don’t wait, quickly stepping out of the car too.
“What is this?” Hawke asks, everyone piling in to see what’s inside.
Without replying, Lucas dials in the numbers, the shackle clicking free, and my breathing speeds up.
Is this his unit?
Wait, no. He would’ve had the combination already. Two-eight-eight-four adds up to twenty-two, the unit number.
Does it belong to Green Street? My brain swims with all the stuff that could be in there. Are we sure we want to know?
But as Lucas lifts the door, phones start lighting up as everyone brings up their flashlights. We all inch inside, my eyes trying to focus on everything at once.
My gaze registers a wardrobe, then flits to a trunk, tables, lamps, chairs, a piano, carpets, a mirror, books, statues, suitcases, paintings…quickly assessing what’s dangerous and what’s not. No weapons, no bodies, but plenty of storage for them. Eyeing the wardrobe again, I wander inside the unit, all of us spreading out to investigate the pieces. Turning the handle, I try to pry the door open, but can only get it cracked enough to see a sliver inside.Dresses.
Kade climbs onto a chair and checks out behind a tall bed frame, while Dylan and Aro flip through a photo album, and the others inspect various boxes and antiques.
Something feels off. If this belongs to the Dorans—or Winslet—it doesn’t seem like it belongs here. The furniture is antique, the art dramatic, and the pieces too ornate. It’s not the style of most residents in this region—blue-collar workers, farmers, and middle Americans.
I draw in air through my nose, the scent triggering a memory.
Wet, aged wood, musty like an old building.
I take in more air, noticing a subtle hint of jasmine, gardenias, coffee, rain, and sweet liquor all mixed together to create a scent cooked in humidity that I’ve only smelled once before in the only place in the world it can be made.New Orleans.
“It was Manas Doran,” Lucas says, fanning a file folder. “The man who left the envelope at the door.”
I come to his side, scanning the ownership documents to several properties, all located in Weston. I grab a picture of one young man and twin boys with a woman, whom I assume is their mother. I look at the back, readingConor, Deacon, Manas, and Mom.
“They’re watching,” Lucas tells us. “They’re listening.”
“Why were they following us, though?” I ask. “In the Dodge? Trying to scare us if they’re giving all of this to us?”
But he shakes his head, looking at me. “It wasn’t them following us.”
He still doesn’t believe me. He thinks it’s someone else. Maybe Reeves.
“And they’re giving this to Weston,” Lucas clarifies. “Not us, not Farrow, but to be used for the town.”
“How much is in here?” Aro asks anyone who has a guess.
Hawke just ponders. “Hard to say. Maybe a few thousand. Maybe a few hundred thousand.”
Anything would help Weston, but we need an appraiser to look at the furniture. And the dresses and the paintings. I’m not hopeful, though. If any of this was valuable, they wouldn’t have left it in a non-temperature-controlled unit without more security.
“Catalogit.” Lucas studies the documents, continuing to tell Hawke and the rest, “Take whatever pictures and keepsakes you want for your research. The rest we sell.”
Lucas slips a pile of papers to Hawke that he’s pulled from the file. “And we sell these too.”
