Page 91 of Mad Rivals
“What sorts of items do you store in this warehouse?” Madden presses.
Mick clears his throat. “This warehouse is mainly construction materials. We have the extra flooring from the Cannings project coming in this evening.”
A man in a suit walks by us, and Mick’s shrewd eyes follow him as he walks by.
I get the distinct feeling that Mick wants to get rid of us so he can talk to the man in the suit, but I’m not sure why I feel that way. More suits walk past us, though this is a popular area. But still…it all feels very, very weird.
The door is shut behind him, and I can’t help my next question. “Who did you let in there a minute ago when we were walking down the block?”
His eyes move to me, and he doesn’t look very amused that I’m here asking questions. “Who are you?”
“Excuse me?” I set my hand on my chest.
“She’s with me,” Madden says. “What’s going on here, Mick?”
“I told you, sir,” Mick says, never losing his cool. “Expecting a delivery.”
“Can I see inside the warehouse?” Madden asks.
“Be my guest.” He opens the door, and the warehouse is dark inside, which only fuels my question about who he let in here a minute ago. Why would it be dark if someone was in here? And furthermore, if he was expecting a delivery, why wouldn’t he have gone in and turned on the lights? Why would a delivery be coming in this door off the main drag when surely for a warehouse there’s an easier way to get pallets of flooring inside?
What the hell is going on?
We walk in, and he keeps the door open. He reaches in and flicks on a light, and maybe I’m being ridiculous. It really is just a warehouse with rows and rows and rows of…flooring.
Madden and I exchange another glance.
It feels like another dead end.
But something is going on here, and I have a feeling Madden isn’t going to stop investigating until he gets some answers.
CHAPTER 38: Madden Bradley
How Do I Get In
I can’t let it go.
Mick was up to something on Friday, but I don’t know what.
It’s a ten-minute drive from my place, and I decide to head back on Saturday morning with Kennedy since she’s spending the weekend with me.
In the daylight, everything looks…well, pretty much the same. It looks like a warehouse, minus Mick standing out front.
I want to get back in there. I’m not sure what made me leave so easily last night other than the fact that Mick said there was flooring in here, and that’s pretty much all I saw as we walked the aisles and aisles filled with various tiles, hardwood, carpeting, padding, foam, and stone.
I didn’t look for another door. I didn’t look for something that could indicate a separate area. But the more I thought about it as I didn’t sleep at all last night, the stranger it became.
All those people dressed up in suits and dresses who kept walking by while we spoke with Mick outside. A dressy couple waiting around the corner when we walked back to the car. None of it added up. There are enough fancy places around here, Isuppose, but I got the distinct impression they were waiting for me to leave.
The door is locked, and there’s no getting in.
But I decide to play a little game.
I text my father.
Me:I’m at the warehouse in the West Loop. I have a carload of extra tiles I’ve been storing at my place. How do I get in to drop them off?
Rather than text me back like a normal person, my phone rings a moment later.
