There were far too many questions we didn’t have answers to. But we were one step closer to finding Javi and the car. “Let’s go visit Hector’s garage and see what we can find.”
CHAPTER 26
Vero and I got out of a taxi a few blocks away from the address Enzo had given us. We hunched against the cold, an icy wind slicing through our sweatshirts and our wigs blowing over our eyes. I turned every few feet to look over my shoulder. This was not a street I was comfortable exploring in broad daylight, and as the afternoon sun started dipping closer toward the horizon, I was beginning to question the logic in our plan, or if we even had one.
“We’ll check it out from a distance,” I reminded Vero as her pace quickened.
She squinted at each poorly marked structure we passed, searching for the building numbers. “One oh seven,” she read as we hurried past a darkened pawnshop with bars on its window, then a smoke shop with a neon marijuana plant beside the door.
“We’re not going to confront anyone.”
“One oh nine.”
“We’re going to hang back and look for signs of Javi or the car.”
Vero’s sneakers ground to a halt in front of a lopsided awning. She turned back the way we’d come, counting storefronts. “This is it,” shesaid, pointing at an unmarked door. The paint was chipped and faded but the lockset was new, the window beside it boarded up, not a sliver of light visible through it. A chain-link fence barred access to the narrow gravel driveway running between this building and the next one. I squinted between them, trying to see what lay beyond theNO TRESPASSINGsign.
“Hear that?” Vero asked, tipping an ear toward the fence. A droning hum was drowned out by a sudden high-pitched whine, then the clatter of metal against metal. “That’s a garage.”
“No, that’s a fence,” I said as she slung the gym bag over her shoulder and grabbed the mesh, shoving her foot in one of the holes. “And whoever’s down there obviously doesn’t want any visitors.”
“So?”
“So what if they have a dog? Or a gun?”
I wasn’t sure which of those two possibilities made her pause. “What do you suggest we do, then? Knock on the damn door?”
When I didn’t answer, she started climbing. Before I could get another word out, she’d landed like a cat on the other side, her sneakers splashing quietly into a puddle.
“Come on,” she said, straightening her wig.
“This is a bad idea.” Against my better judgment, I stuck a toe through the chain link and hoisted myself up. The metal was nerve-numbingly cold, and my breath fogged out in thick puffs when I finally reached the top. I straddled it, clinging to both sides as the metal wobbled under me, glad we’d had the forethought to change back into our yoga pants and sneakers before we’d come.
“This isn’t nearly as high as that dormitory window we climbed out of at the academy last week.”
“We fell out of it, Vero.”
She grabbed my foot with a firm tug. With a yelp, I tumbled off the top of the gate and slid down the fence, landing on my butt in the wet gravel. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” she said, pulling me to my feet. I glared at her as I wiped the dirt from my bruised backside and followed her down the alley.
The whine of power tools grew louder, punctuated by the backbeat of a stereo. Light flickered through a window above us. Vero arched on her toes to peek inside. “I’m not tall enough. Give me a boost.” She pushed me down by the top of my head and wrapped a leg around my neck, straddling my shoulders until she was perched on top of them, her feet tucked under my arms. She leaned forward, arms outstretched, nearly toppling me forward. “Higher. Now get closer to the window.”
“Stop kicking me! I’m not a horse!”
We stumbled forward like clowns in a three-ring circus. Using the wall for balance, Vero placed her feet on top of my shoulders, my legs wobbling as she stood for a better look. She wedged her fingers underneath the rotting wooden sill above me. I blinked, dirt and rust peppering my face as she forced the window open a few inches. The hiss of acetylene torches filled the alley.
“What do you see?” I asked, holding tightly to her feet.
“It’s definitely a chop shop. They’ve got five or six cars down there.”
“Any sign of Javi?”
“No. But there’s a room in the back that looks like it might be an office. The door’s shut and the blinds are closed.” She hopped down and dusted off her hands. “Where are you going?” she asked as I started back toward the gate. “We can’t knock on the front door and ask for a tour of the place. We don’t have a car. We’ll look too suspicious.”
I clambered back over the fence, eager to be out of the alley. It reminded me too much of the one we’d been dumped in front of our first night here. If it hadn’t been for the mouthwatering smells of Italian food wafting from that creepy cellar door, I never would have let my guard down and followed Vero inside.
I paused, considering that. How the promise of food could chip away at defenses. How a bag of Cheerios could lure a toddler into compliance, or a platter of cocktail shrimp could distract a room full of people from noticing anything else…
“How many people did you see in the chop shop?” I asked.
