Note to Readers
Detective Jade Hollis pulled her unmarked SUV into the parking lot of the deserted textile mill and parked. Five minutes ago, a call had come in from someone seeing “strange lights” in the crumbling building. Even though she was off duty, she’d only been half a mile away from the address and had volunteered to stop by.
No doubt Wally Benjamin, one of the small town’s homeless, had decided to seek shelter in the place once again. It seemed to be a favorite of his, and she couldn’t say she blamed him.
December nights were cold—and tonight the forecast called for temperatures in the high twenties with snow. She’d pulled Wally—and a few of his homeless friends—out of the building more than once last winter and taken them to the shelter on the edge of town. Jade blew out a breath and turned off the car. The heater fell silent and she sat for a moment, dreading the idea of trading her warm spot for the frigid wind.
She grimaced. The quicker she took care of this, the quicker she could get home. At least she had a home—one that was finally in the same city as her daughter. She slipped out of the driver’s seat and into the swirling snow. For a brief moment, the wind settled and dead quiet surrounded her. She heard a scraping noise coming from the interior of the old building before the wind whipped her ponytail across her face and shivers wracked her. She grabbed her coat, gloves and hat from the back seat.
After pulling everything on, she made sure she could reach her weapon. She wasn’t terribly concerned about needing it but wasn’t going in unprepared even though she was almost a hundred percent sure it was Wally in there.
But there’d been several drug-related deaths over the past three months and the suppliers were as slippery as eels, moving from one place to the next, never landing long enough for the police to find them and bust them. They always seemed to be one step ahead of law enforcement which was frustrating to everyone involved.
Jade carried the portable radio, ready to call an ambulance if Wally needed medical treatment—should it be Wally in the building. Last year, he’d suffered frostbite as a result of his refusal to go to a shelter on one of the cold nights. She lifted her chin, deciding the man didn’t have a choice tonight. She’d arrest him for...well...something...if she had to. For his own good. A heated holding cell was better than a dirt floor in a freezing cold building that had been declared a danger zone. If it was Wally. She really shouldn’t assume.
The beam of her high-powered flashlight guided her steps to the space where the front door had been. She stepped inside and swept the light over the area, then lifted the radio to call the dispatcher. “Darlene, this is Jade. Did the caller say in what part of the building he saw the lights? This place is huge.”
The radio popped, and Darlene came on. “In the main building where you usually can find Wally. The person called back and said that not only were there were lights, but possibly a small fire. Fire trucks are en route.”
“10-4. Thanks. But you can cancel the trucks. There’s no sign of a fire.” At least not in this part of the building. “Or lights.” Although she did wonder what the noise had been. Rats probably. “If I’m wrong, I’ll call you back.” The trucks could be on site within minutes if needed.
“10-4. Stay safe.”
A fire could be Wally’s attempt to stay warm, but she didn’t smell smoke. Jade cast the beam over the ceiling, noting it looked solid enough. Industrial pipes ran amok in no discernible pattern—at least the ones that were still attached—but the rows of spindles stood neatly as though waiting for someone to put them to work. Debris from the past littered the floor. Mostly broken equipment.
Jade stepped farther inside. Even with the gaping windows, the interior offered a bit of relief from the bite of the wind.
A click, then a scrape sounded somewhere from inside the vast cavern of space, and Jade shivered. This time, the chills had nothing to do with the weather. “Wally? You here?” Her voice echoed. “It’s me, Jade Hollis.”
A soft thud reached her, then silence.
The hairs on her neck spiked and her hand went to her weapon. She palmed it, taking comfort in the solid weight of it, and lifted the radio. “Darlene, send backup to the mill, will you.”
“10-4.” She made the request, then came back. “Are you