Waking the Witch (Otherworld 11)

It was a big wood-paneled office. Clearly executive level, the dented metal desk looking as out of place as the old lunch box and dog-eared magazines scattered across it. The security guard had taken the best office the sawmill had to offer, dragging in abandoned furniture from other offices.

A half-smoked cigarette rested on the edge of an old company mug, the smell of it still permeating the room. The magazines were car ones. None I read. I prefer mine without half-naked women. A partially eaten sandwich lay on an open magazine.

The cigarette was out. Adam touched the end of it.

"Cold," he said.

I picked up another mug and stuck my finger into the contents. "Coffee is, too." I pulled my finger out and sniffed it. "Coffee with a kick. Whiskey, I think. Definitely cold, though."

As I went to put it down, I realized the mug was new, unlike everything else in the office. A matching extra one sat on a shelf. Both bore the same logo. Radu Developments.

"Cody's family company," I said, showing Adam. "Two brand-new mugs."

"Jacket, too," Adam said.

He nodded to the coat hanging off the back of the chair. I picked it up. A new, fleece-lined windbreaker with the Radu company logo on the breast pocket.

"Coincidence?" I said. "Or does Mr. R. G. Ballard rate corporate gifts for a reason?"

"One thing's for sure. The security guard was here earlier."

"And now he's not."

thirty-five

We backed up and checked all the offices, just to be sure. They were empty.

The door at the end of the hall opened into a big room with tables and folding chairs. It had whiteboards, all wiped clean. Meeting room or quality control, I guessed.

A set of steel double doors probably led to the sawmill floor. Adam started heading that way, but I wanted to search systematically.

A glance inside the other two doors identified both rooms as storage. One was mostly empty. The other was jam-packed with crap.

Adam walked into the nearly empty one and shone his light around.

"Boxes," he murmured. "Doesn't look like they've been touched in months so--"

I stopped him and tilted his flashlight until it illuminated the dusty floor. It was covered in footprints.

I walked over to the nearest box. While it was battered and dirty, little of that dirt was actual dust. If the sawmill had been closed more than a year, there should be dust. According to the label, it was filled with office supplies.

"Explains the footprints," Adam said. "Someone's been swiping paper and pens. The security guard probably has a deal going with that real estate agent who runs the copy shop. Maybe she gives him the Radu company swag. They're developers, so she probably gets tons of it."

"Maybe. But why leave office supplies behind in the first place? I doubt the workers would have had any compunctions about stripping the place clean after they got their pink slips."

The box was taped shut with shiny new packing tape, but the cardboard showed signs that tape had been applied and ripped off many times. I opened it. Inside I found another box, newer, with a logo for a company called Pharma-Link at a Canadian address. I tore it open. Inside were drugs. Prescription drugs.

"You're shitting me," I murmured.

I walked to the next box and opened it. More drugs. Adam ripped open another. Same thing. We went into the other storage one. It was packed with boxes.

"Guess we know what broughtJesse here," Adam said. "He tracked down the destination for those deliveries Cody was getting."

"His big illegal enterprise is importing prescription drugs from Canada? No wonder he was so worried about anyone finding out. After the white slavery rumors, this

would have been such a disappointment." I shook my head. "So the security guard is in on the scheme, letting Cody and his buddies store their stock here. Considering that the place is up for sale, no one would think it odd if they saw Cody driving into the sawmill. He probably has more stashed in the warehouses down the road, which is why Michael was checking them out. Only Jesse came straight to the source."

So where was the security guard? And, more important, where was Jesse?