makeup and looked younger for it. She moved with an ease and grace
that came with being comfortable in one’s skin. The awkward, shy
girl was gone. In her place was a wife who had one job to do, get back
to her husbands.
“That’s it,” Dante said as he pulled into the small parking lot.
They were on the outer edges of downtown and parking was more
plentiful. Meg stared at the warehouse. It was dilapidated and hadn’t
seen better days in years. The door hung haphazardly from its frame.
Meg noted the staircase was missing some steps.
Dante opened his door and slid out. “The last two owners sold it at
a loss. It’s had fifteen owners since it was built twenty years ago. It
was a warehouse for one of the big department stores. They had so
many accidents the chain closed it down. I came out here yesterday
morning and installed a couple of cameras. I thought I would cover
some of the big spaces and see if anything came up.”
There was something about the space that pulled at her. “I think
you may be on to something,” she said with the first real enthusiasm
she’d felt in weeks. “Let’s get those cameras.”
Four hours and a half-eaten burger later, Meg thought her eyes
were going to burst out of her head if she had to watch one more
minute of nothing.
It was like watching paint peel. She wasn’t going through frame
by frame, but she couldn’t speed it up much, either, for fear of
missing something. Dante had covered as much of the space as he
could with four cameras. So far, there had been nothing but the eerie
green glow of the night vision.
“Anything?” Dante walked into the office from the store. He
walked past the long table cluttered with laptops and desktops, their
inner workings open to the air.
“The place has rats. Other than that, nothing except a few pigeons