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five-thirty, he didn’t know. If it had something to do with Tio’s side-hustle, whatever that was, it was worth his time to investigate.

Mitch slid his cell phone in his pocket and exited his office, pulling the door closed behind him. A quick test of the knob found the door locked.

Good.

Not that it would really stop anyone from poking around inside.

The bad thing about working with criminals was that he could always trust them to be up to no good.

 He didn’t bother with Tio’s office. Tio wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave such critical information lying around inside.

No, he was going to check some of the warehouses in the harbor. There were two in particular that had caught his interest. They’d changed hands in the last year and he didn’t recognize the names of the organizations owning them.

In fact, his research made him think both were owned by shell corporations, which would be exactly how Tio would set up an enterprise he wanted to keep under the radar.

He obviously couldn’t gain access, but maybe he’d see something – or someone – that would clue him into which building Tio might be using.

If any.

He should probably take this to the FBI now. Let them deal with it.

The problem was, he didn’t have any hard evidence.

Sure, he’d snooped through Tio’s files and taken pictures of a few documents, but they weren’t rock-hard proof. Sure, he’d heard Tio talking about Jason Boggess, but many people had been talking about the mayor’s son.

None of that proved anything.

Still, he knew. He’d pieced together enough to know Tio was running a side racket.

Now he had to prove it.

Damp salt air kissed his face as he stepped into the waning afternoon light. Heavy cloud cover blocked the sunlight and threatened evening showers.

He checked his phone.

Still no message saying his shipment had arrived.

The warehouses were down the road to his left. First though, he wanted to ensure Tio was really gone.

He reached the parking lot, his gaze scanning for Tio’s car. No sign of the flashy blue convertible. Or Tio’s souped-up truck.

Tio had left. Just like he’d said.

What about Zane? The head of security was as much of a threat as Tio. Perhaps more so.

Zane’s motorcycle wasn’t anywhere in sight either.

Good.

Yeah, there were other security team members, but at least there were two people he didn’t have to worry about.

Heading back to the unnamed road that ran between the warehouses, he wove around shipping containers, dodged a forklift, and gave a wide berth to a semi-truck parked in the middle of the path.

There was the first warehouse.

He lingered behind the corner of a group of shipping containers.

The loading bay door was open. Several men scurried around the area, one driving a forklift, one directing, and three moving boxes off a trailer onto a pallet.

He didn’t recognize any of the men.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t connected to Tio, but if he couldn’t place the men, they were of no use to him right now.

He moved on to the next one, an ancient wooden structure that’d withstood more years and storms than him and Tio combined.

At the very end of the shipping yard, at first glance it appeared abandoned.

The weathered boards looked as if they would snap without the slightest provocation. Scraggly brush and lush, overgrown trees grew around two sides of the building, adding to the sense of abandonment.

But the new steel doors told a different story.

Anyone casually looking would see the rusted doors and think they’d been there for years, but close inspection showed that the doors had been very intentionally aged.

Those doors hadn’t been on there any more than a year. He’d bet his life on it.

No boats docked near this building tonight. Nor had they on the other half dozen occasions when he’d walked out this direction.

No trace of light filtered between the boards. Without windows, it was impossible to tell if anyone was inside.

Yet his gut told him this warehouse was being used for something.

The only question remaining was if it was being used by Tio or someone else.

He checked his phone again.

Still no notification of his shipment.

He had time to wait. For what, he wasn’t sure, but this place felt like Tio to him. After working with the man for so many years, he knew how Tio thought and what he’d look for in a base of operations.

A seagull squawked overhead, its sudden cry making him jump.

A ship’s horn blared, long and low, as the vessel sliced through the gray waters of the Sound.

But the warehouse remained still as night.

His legs began to ache from standing in place for so long and he shifted his weight slowly.

This was pointless. What was he doing, anyway? Staking out a possibly abandoned warehouse like he was some kind of cop?

Ridiculous!

He checked the time again. Almost six.

Well, so much for the five-thirty thing.

Did he really think Tio would pop out that door while he was watching?

He was wasting his time.

He turned, but had only taken a few steps when the crunch of tires on asphalt came from behind him.

A car. No question.

He whirled and ducked back behind the crates as an older Lexus drove into view.

Not a car he recognized. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t someone who worked for Tio.

The car pulled up to the largest of the metal doors, one that could easily accommodate a small delivery truck, and honked.

The door swung inward, the hinges squealing in protest.

He tried to get a view of the interior, but it was dark and his angle was all wrong.

The car disappeared inside, the door closing firmly behind it.

He pulled back.

Why hadn’t Tio – or whomever – installed

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