Eugenia Pappas leaned back from her blanched pine desk, looking at the printout. Barry had accompanied me to the morning room, the features of which seemed to interest him more than the view of Anchor Bay, glittering under the sun breaking through the clouds. Bright-colored sails had sprung up like crocuses on the surface. The days to play with outdoor toys were growing short. He said, “Ouida bookmarked it: ten boxes logged in yesterday morning. That’s the day she went to lunch and never came back. Someone hacked into your system, knew about the shipment the same time she did.” “I mean the location. That warehouse has been empty for months. I’m negotiating with developers who want to raze it and build condos.” “It wouldn’t be the first time someone used the Detroit riverfront to store contraband,” I said. “How often do you take inventory?” “Never. I employ people who do that.” “Shame on you,” said Barry. “Nick knew every stolen tape deck in his possession and where to lay hands on it.
What do You think about Loren D. Estleman - Amos Walker 21 - Infernal Angels?
