Undercover Memories by Alice Sharpe Page B

reached out and grabbed it and pulled on it as though testing it. With a sudden leap, he attached himself to the fence and began the laborious task of finding footholds and pulling himself to the top, where, crouching, he hovered a second before letting himself down by holding on to the top bar, extending his body on the other side and letting go. He landed six feet later, solidly, but it must have jarred him up to his teeth.
    Half cat burglar, half cat.
    Glancing back, he gave her a thumbs-up and then raced toward the building as though a gunman on the top floor had him in his sights. His condensed breath created a cloud around his head.
    * * *
    J OHN TOOK A DEEP BREATH as he hovered in the shallow doorway of the warehouse. The panel was metal, without windows, but there was a security camera mounted above it. A metal lever-type handle was connected to a tubular latch. There was no keyhole and no way to break inside.
    He studied the apparatus for a few seconds. This was his door. Somewhere in his head he had to know how to open it.
    Reaching out, he slid up the top part of the cover, revealing a bright blue sensor pad underneath. Without thinking, he touched the pad with his right pointer finger. The door beeped and clicked. He pushed down on the lever and it opened. The interior lights immediately flashed on, and what John saw left him speechless.
    He glanced back at Paige’s car before closing the door. The lights stayed on as though connected to a motion sensor.
    The warehouse floor was occupied by a half dozen old fire trucks. There was also space for a vehicle of some kind, he assumed the one that had been abandoned in the park. There were two other vehicles already in their spaces, one a brand-new convertible and the other an SUV.
    It was an unheated space and in the current conditions, freezing. He opened the brass door of a panel located directly to the right of the door and found several switches, many of which seemed to control outside lights and one that was marked Ground Floor Doors and another marked Gate.
    Directly in front of him, a metal staircase led up to an encapsulated loft that occupied about half of the upper area. The area above where he stood disappeared into shadows high overhead.
    He started up the stairs, mentally preparing himself for—well, for whatever. Who knew what was up here?
    The stairs ended on a narrow landing. The door up here had been hacked to pieces. As John drew his gun and stepped inside, interior lights snapped on.
    It looked to be more or less one large area, mostly open with a modest amount of decent furniture. The most impressive thing about the place was a baby grand piano near the windows. It also seemed to be about the only item that hadn’t been tossed, dumped or overturned.
    Papers and books and a million little things littered the floor. Furniture had been slashed. Obviously, someone had come looking for something while John was away. Had they found it?
    How had they gotten past the door downstairs and the gate, for that matter?
    He bypassed the curved bar that defined the kitchen, which was also a mess, then opened a door near the bedroom. That turned out to be a bathroom. The place was obviously deserted, so he put his gun away. Time to go get Paige.
    He went back downstairs, shivering in the cold air, and pushed buttons, resulting in the soft hum of motors. He walked outside to the gate as it rolled open, and Paige met him.
    “I think we should leave your car out here on this side of the fence,” he said.
    “But someone could see it,” she said, shivering, her gaze traveling up and down the alley. “Someone like Korenev.”
    “Still, if we lock it inside the gates with us and something goes wrong—”
    “Your call,” she said.
    “Someone has already been here looking for something,” he said. “The place is torn apart.”
    She covered her mouth with two fingers. “Korenev was here. I completely forgot about it. He told me there was no trace of me at your