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She shook her head, frowning as she met his eyes. “I have no idea. It’s an address with some numbers after it,” she explained as she turned the paper to him.
Derrick took the paper and looked at it. The font looked like it had been typed out on a typewriter: 56 Shell Street, Los Angeles, CA.
2000-03-05-09-13
81
07-06-09-03
Derrick grabbed his phone and punched the address in. “It’s a self-storage place,” he said, “and its Yelp reviews are shitastic,” he relayed, showing Taylor the Google results on his phone.
Taylor’s eyes went wide. “What do you think is in there?” she questioned Derrick softly.
“No idea,” Derrick said looking the letter back over again. “When did he send this to you?” Derrick asked.
“Nan said she got the envelope about a week before I came, well, back.”
“It’s almost like, like he knew…” Derrick trailed off.
“Like he knew something was going to happen to him?” Taylor asked. “I get that feeling too.”
“He must have been caught up with some messed up people.”
“We need to get Henry,” Taylor snatched the letter back. “We need to go there.”
“Tonight?” Derrick asked. He wanted to know who was behind all this shit, too, but he was tired. And, apparently, an old man.
“Yes,” Taylor stated, grabbing her iPad and walking out the door, leaving Derrick to follow reluctantly.
* * *
Together they madetheir way to the basement, where staff quarters were housed. On the way down Taylor filled Derrick in on what Nan had told her, and they still had time left over to walk in silence.
“This place is so huge,” Taylor murmured as they went down the old stone staircase.
“Yeah,” Derrick said. “It still feels just as huge as it did when we were kids.”
“We really need to look at our housing needs when this is said and done,” Taylor said as they came upon the door to Henry’s room and knocked.
As they waited, Derrick swiped through the journal on Taylor’s tablet. “He was a really good artist,” he said.
“Where the hell is he?” Taylor growled in frustration, ready to go in search of another security team member when Henry opened the door about two inches and peeked out. “Henry, we need—”
“Taylor, this isn’t a good time,” he said quickly and quietly.
Taylor ignored Henry. “Yeah, okay. Listen, I think I found some stuff about Cedric but I need your input.”
“Taylor, I am not decent,” he said, widening his eyes.
“Henry, I don’t need you to be in a damn suit, but I need to talk to you.”
“Tay,” Derrick said slowly, turning her to him, “give the guy some space.” Derrick looked back up at Henry over Taylor’s shoulder. “Give us a call when you’re, uh, decent,” Derrick said and pulled Taylor by the arm away from Henry’s door.
“What are you doing?” Taylor demanded, wrenching her arm out of Derrick’s grasp. “I need to talk to him.”
“Tay, he has a chick in there,” Derrick said.
This stunned Taylor into silence, and she was then able to be led away.