Page 18

Amelia parked her black sedan at the edge of the sprawling industrial estate, a place of stark corrugated warehouses and long rows of loading docks. It was mid-afternoon, and the March sun hung low behind thick gray clouds, casting a pale light over the endless concrete. She switched off the engine and looked over at Rob in the passenger seat.

“This is it,” Amelia said, her heart already thudding with anticipation. “The address that traffic cam showed Finn’s Corvette heading into.”

Rob nodded, leaning forward to get a better view through the windshield. Rows of warehouses lined a fenced perimeter. Machinery whirred somewhere in the distance, and forklifts buzzed back and forth. Everything looked ordinary on the surface—but Amelia’s gut told her Finn and Eleanor were here somewhere, and they might be in danger.

They got out of the car and approached the main gate, noticing a small security post. A heavyset guard in a uniform gave them a cursory glance, but it was the man in a high-visibility vest near a loading bay who caught Amelia’s eye. He was talking to another staffer, gesturing at some paperwork.

Amelia walked right up to him, Rob following. “Excuse me,” she said, displaying her Police badge. “I’m Inspector Winters, and this is Chief Constable Collins. We’re looking for two colleagues of ours—Finn Wright and Dr. Eleanor Matthews. Have you seen them here?”

The supervisor’s eyes flicked between Amelia and Rob, then he forced a neutral expression. “No. Haven’t seen anyone by those names.”

Amelia narrowed her gaze. She sensed tension in his stance, the way he avoided meeting her eye. “You sure?”

He shrugged. “We get a lot of deliveries and visitors, but I’d remember names like that. Sorry, Inspector.”

From the corner of her eye, Amelia noticed a stocky man sitting on a metal crate, casually smoking a cigar. He met her gaze without flinching, exhaling smoke in a lazy swirl. The directness of his stare made her uneasy. She took a half-step past the supervisor, trying to see if there was anything behind him that indicated Finn’s presence.

“Sorry, you can’t go in,” the supervisor said, sidestepping to block her. “Private property, restricted access.”

Amelia ignored him, striding toward the cigar-smoking man. “Hello,” she said, letting her tone carry authority. “I’m Inspector Winters. You are?”

He flicked ash to the ground, unfazed by her approach. “Gerard,” he said. No last name.

Amelia lifted an eyebrow. “Gerard…?”

“Just Gerard.” He took another pull of the cigar, blowing the smoke away from her. “What do you want, Inspector?”

Amelia raised her badge again. “We’re looking for two colleagues, a man and a woman. Finn Wright, tall, blond hair. Eleanor Matthews, average height, blond hair as well. Have they been here?”

Gerard’s eyes glinted with thinly veiled annoyance. “No. And we don’t appreciate the police dropping in, harassing us when we’re just trying to run a business.”

She studied him, hearing the subtle challenge in his voice. “Why do you think I’m harassing you? I just asked a question.”

Gerard flicked a bit of ash. “Because you lot come around all the time, poking your nose in. We’re tired of it.” He glanced at the supervisor. “If you have no warrant, you can’t step foot in our warehouse. Company policy.”

Rob stepped beside Amelia, crossing his arms. “We’ll see about that,” he said, voice steady.

Gerard shrugged, grinding the cigar stub under his heel. “Hope you find your friends.” Then he gave a mirthless grin, adding, “But without a warrant, you’re not getting in that building.” He turned and disappeared through a side door, leaving the supervisor blocking Amelia and Rob’s path.

Scowling, Amelia backed away, motioning for Rob to follow. They retreated out of earshot, the supervisor glaring after them. Once they were near a row of parked vehicles, Rob lowered his voice. “They’re lying, right?”

Amelia nodded, frustration knotting her chest. “I’m sure of it. That supervisor was too defensive, and Gerard basically told us to clear off. Something’s up.”

Rob tried dialing his phone. “Still no response from Eleanor,” he muttered after it rang and went to voicemail. He pocketed it, worry creasing his face. “I don’t like this, Amelia. They might be inside, and these creeps are stonewalling us. But then, I don't see Finn's Corvette anywhere.”

“They could have hidden it,” Amelia replied.

Amelia noticed Rob’s overt worry. He usually kept his emotions in check, but the fact he was so concerned about Eleanor told her something was going on beneath the surface. She let it pass without comment, focusing on the immediate problem. “So what’s next?”

Rob inhaled slowly, scanning the warehouse. “We do it by the book. Stake out the place for a bit, gather intel, get some checks run on the business. If we barge in, we could lose any advantage or put Finn and Eleanor at risk.”

Amelia pressed her lips together, wanting to charge in. But she nodded grudgingly. “Fine. Let’s run a background search and watch for suspicious movement. Meanwhile, I’ll keep calling Finn’s phone.”

They headed back to her sedan, where they settled in. Amelia started the engine, but only to keep the heat on. The spring air still had a chill. She angled the rearview mirror to watch the warehouse gate. For the next couple of hours, they observed employees coming and going, trucks pulling up, drivers exchanging paperwork. The normal hum of commerce, but with an underlying tension that made Amelia's skin prickle.

Inside the car, they tried to keep their minds off the worst possibilities. Rob asked, “How are things going with Finn these days?”

Amelia gave a short laugh. “Honestly? We rarely see each other except for fleeting moments. Different cases, different schedules. I just wish we could have a normal day. But that’ll come once we catch Wendell Reed, I guess.”

Rob’s eyes flicked to the warehouse. “It’s tough, balancing personal and professional like that. But hey, I’m sure you’ll get time eventually.”

She turned to him with a faint smile. “So, how are things with you, Sir? Are you seeing anyone?”

He gave a mischievous grin. “Might have something in the works. Too early to say, but let’s just say not all my nights are spent alone.”

Amelia teased, “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, but hush hush’?”

Rob laughed. “Precisely. Let’s leave it at that.”

Suddenly, Amelia tensed. Through her binoculars, she saw a black sedan pull up to the warehouse’s main entrance. Two men got out—one was thickset with a shaved head, the other tall and wiry. They walked inside without hesitation, a quick nod from the supervisor at the gate. “Rob, look at that,” she said, handing him the binoculars. “I recognize the tall one—Frankie Govan. A known enforcer in London’s underworld.”

Rob frowned, focusing the lenses. “You’re sure?”

She nodded grimly. “I’ve run across his name in intel briefs. Rumor is, he’s more than just muscle. He’s an assassin for certain syndicates. If he’s here, that can’t be good.”

Rob cursed under his breath, grabbing the radio. "Let me see if he's got warrants." Moments later, a voice crackled back, confirming that Frankie Govan was wanted on an outstanding warrant for failing to appear in court.

Amelia flashed Rob a fierce look. “That’s reason enough to go in there. Legally, I mean.”

Rob nodded. “We’ll call for backup, get the team to—”

Before he could finish, a loud bang cracked through the air, echoing across the industrial lot. Amelia’s heart lurched. A second bang followed.

Rob reached for the door handle. “Gunshots?”

But Amelia was already leaping out of the car, adrenaline surging. “I’m not waiting,” she shouted, racing toward the warehouse. “Finn and Eleanor could be in there!”

“Wait, Amelia!” Rob yelled, but she ignored him.

Heart pounding, she sprinted across the asphalt, straight to the supervisor who moved to block her path again. With a swift motion, she grabbed his outstretched arm, pivoted, and hurled him over her shoulder. He crashed to the ground with a grunt.

“Stay down,” she snapped. She spotted a metal door and barreled through it, heading into the warehouse’s dim interior. Rob was just behind her.

Inside, crates and racks loomed. Overhead lights buzzed. More startled staff tried to bar her way—henchmen, no doubt. Rob slid in beside her, intercepting one man who lunged with a crowbar. A brief scuffle ended with Rob disarming him, while Amelia ducked a punch from another. She landed a sharp elbow to the gut, sending the attacker sprawling.

Amelia heard Finn’s voice from somewhere deeper inside.

“No!” he shouted, desperation in his tone.

She and Rob exchanged looks, then darted forward, weaving around crates. Another henchman rushed at them, but Rob tackled him, pinning him with a swift maneuver. They reached a large storage room at the end, where flickering fluorescent lights revealed a chaotic scene.

Finn stood in the center, grappling with a tall, broad-shouldered man—Frankie Govan. A smoking gun lay partly in Frankie’s hand as the two struggled, fists tangling in each other’s shirts. Off to the side, Eleanor was crouched, apparently just freed from some ropes. She was flanking them, looking for an opening to help.

Amelia stepped forward. “You're under arrest!” she shouted. But Frankie twisted, shoving Finn sideways and then grabbed the gun on the floor. In a blur, Amelia lunged, slamming her shoulder into Frankie’s arm. The shot went wild, ricocheting off a metal crate. Rob dived forward, locking Frankie’s arm in place, and together they pried the gun away, it falling back to the ground.

Eleanor scrambled up, snatching the weapon from the floor. Her eyes flicked to Amelia, relief warring with fury. “Thank God you’re here.”

Finn clutched his side, wincing, but clearly still in the fight. He kicked the gun further away. Then another figure stormed in—Gerard, the stocky man from earlier. He froze upon seeing Frankie subdued and stared at Amelia, Finn, and Rob in fury.

Finn now picked up the gun and pointed it directly at Gerard. “I'm American through and through and was the crack shot in my FBI class. Don't make me prove it.”

Gerard’s eyes narrowed, but he realized he was outnumbered. He slowly raised his hands, scowling.

Finn moved in, chest heaving. “This is over.” He turned to Amelia, meeting her gaze. “Took you long enough,” he joked, a half-grin on his bruised face.

Eleanor stood behind him, gun pointed at Frankie as he lay pinned on the floor. She glanced at Amelia, breath uneven. “We owe you.”

Amelia let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “We heard gunshots. We had to come.” She flicked her eyes to Rob, who was cuffing Frankie. “I assume we’ll need backup now?”

Rob nodded, snapping the cuffs. “Definitely. We’ll secure these guys, get them all arrested on any outstanding charges. And get you two to a medic.”

Amelia rubbed the back of her neck, relief flooding her system. “Time to call in the cavalry, then,” she said, glancing between Finn and Eleanor to ensure they were relatively okay. “Let’s get everyone out of this place before anything else happens.”

Finn smiled—tired but unbowed. “I think we can agree on that.”