“Are we wasting our time here?” Alina asked.
Trevor was tempted to say yes. Then he looked down the row between two of the buildings and spotted a truck with a security decal plastered on the side. The driver’s side door was open, and it was parked in front of a big two-story building with flammable signs posted on both sides.
He caught Alina’s eye and jerked his head in that direction. She nodded, falling into step beside him. As they got closer to the truck, he expected Ed to step out of the big warehouse and ask them what the hell they were doing here, but there was no one in sight. The big, sliding double doors of the warehouse were open, a rusty lock hanging off the hasp and heavy petroleum fumes rolling out of the building in waves.
“Can you smell Ed’s scent in the truck?” Alina asked. “At least confirm he’s here?”
Trevor leaned and took a sniff. With the fumes, he could barely smell anything. He thought he was picking up a man’s scent, but it didn’t seem familiar. With this stench, he simply couldn’t trust his nose.
He shook his head. “I can’t be sure.” He motioned toward the warehouse. “But we’re here now—might as well check the place out.”
The interior of the building was dark, the only light coming from the overhead skylights and a few windows scattered along the upper and lower floors. The windows might have let in a bit more light if they hadn’t been filthy—and covered with heavy-gauge security wire.
The second level seemed to be more catwalk than actual storage area, with its only apparent purpose being to provide access to the various overhead hoists and to let people move around the stuffed warehouse more easily.
The fumes were worse inside, making Trevor’s nose tingle and eyes water more than they already had been. He closed his eyes and focused on his sense of hearing, trying to shut out the stench long enough to figure out if he and Alina were alone.
His eyes snapped open when he heard a creak of metal somewhere in the back of the place.
“Which way?” Alina asked.
She had her sidearm out and had clearly been covering him while he’d been standing there with his eyes closed. Maybe her instincts were saying the same thing his were, that there was something strange going on in here.
Trevor pulled his own weapon out as he motioned with his chin toward the rear of the building. “That way. It sounded like footsteps.”
They carefully made their way between stacks of barrels and boxes, every one of them marked with either a flammable-liquid or flammable-gas label. Trevor hoped no one started shooting in here. This wasn’t the environment for it. One shot into the wrong box or drum, and this place would go up like a Roman candle.
Trevor scanned the dimly lit rows and aisles between the boxes and drums as well as the second-floor catwalk that ran around three sides of the building and overlooked the main floor. If there was someone in here, he couldn’t see them.
He tried to move and listen at the same time, straining to catch the sound of another creak—or better, the sound of a heartbeat—but he didn’t pick up anything. Maybe that was because the space was large, and sound bounced around funny because of all the metal.
Or maybe it was simply because there was no one here.
He and Alina were near the back wall when he picked up a scent that didn’t belong. It was hard to believe he could smell anything with all the petroleum odors cloying his nose, but this odor was peculiar enough to grab his attention. It smelled a little like blood mixed with something seriously nasty.
Trevor turned and headed in that direction, letting his nose lead him. Alina followed silently. The stench only got stranger the deeper they went into the building. It was definitely blood. And it smelled fresh. At least he thought it did. It was hard to tell with the other odors nearly overwhelming it. Shit, what the hell was that smell?
When he rounded a stack of boxes, Trevor discovered exactly what it was—and really wished he hadn’t.
There were two metal containers in the center of the floor, filled with viscous, yellowish-green liquid. Inside each was a decomposing body. One looked fresh, still mostly recognizable and wearing the remains of a dark-blue security uniform. The other wasn’t so fresh.
“Is that…acid?” Alina asked in horror.
Trevor couldn’t blame her. He’d seen a lot in his time in the army, DIA, and DCO. But nothing like this.
All he could do was nod as he slipped his weapon back into his holster and stepped closer to get a better look. The fresher body wasn’t too bad, but the other one was hard to look at. The acid had eaten away most of the guy’s skin and organs. About the only solid parts left were one arm and a leg that had been too long to fit into the cramped space of the metal shipping container.
Trevor wasn’t sure what the hell was going on here and wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He hated to think it, but it looked like Ed had killed two of the security guards who’d worked here and attempted to dispose of their bodies. Why? He had no idea. Just like he had no idea why Ed had killed John and Olivia.
He was about to take out his phone to call the cops when a glint of something shiny along the badly decomposed man’s leg caught his attention.
Ignoring the acid fumes and the horrible stench, he leaned over the container and took a closer look. A long, slim piece of metal was attached to the man’s lower thigh bone just above the knee joint.
Shit.
Heart pounding, Trevor yanked his weapon out and spun to look around the warehouse space.
Alina spun around with him, her eyes trying to dart every direction at once. “What’s wrong?”
