Mayor Sykes parked the car near the side door of the warehouse, and for a moment Anna wondered if she would be foolish to go into the building with him. He’s the mayor, she reminded herself. You’re being silly. They got out of the car, and the mayor walked her across the weedy, rutted lawn, his hand on her elbow. They entered through the unlocked side door. The scent inside was musty, a little oily and metallic, but it quickly gave way to the tobacco smell of the mayor’s cigar. Anna stood still, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the interior light, and she began to notice her surroundings. For the most part, the warehouse was quite empty, save for some boards and crates scattered here and there, along with the occasional concrete block. Against one wall were three long wooden tables and a couple of chairs. The floor was a mess, littered with dirt and sawdust and who knew what else. The place was downright spooky.

“Is there a key for the door?” she asked. “I’ll have supplies and other valuables in here I won’t want stolen.”

“Well, you might have to worry about that in New Jersey, but it won’t be a problem down here.” The mayor gave a self-satisfied laugh. “But sure, I can have a locksmith come and make you a key, if that’ll help you rest easy.”

“It would,” she said.

The warehouse not only had those big windows along one side, but many skylights scattered the length of the high-beamed ceiling as well. Round pendant lights and huge black fans hung from the beams like giant bats. There were shadowy areas of the ceiling that no daylight seemed to reach and Anna shuddered, turning her gaze away from those beams. Anything could be up there.

“When the weather warms up,” Mayor Sykes said, “you can open those doors over there. Let fresh air in.” He gestured to the opposite side of the warehouse and for the first time Anna noticed four huge garage-type doors, far larger than the sort you’d find on a house.

“Uh-huh,” she said, scrambling to think of an excuse that would let her turn down the offer of the warehouse. The windows were so filthy that the light was indeed hazy and wan as she’d predicted, although she could imagine how, once clean, they could let in enough light to work by on sunny days. Not in the morning or evening, though.

“I’m afraid I’ll need more light,” she said.

“I’ll have some lamps brought over, along with those space heaters I promised,” Mayor Sykes said.

A mouse suddenly skittered past their feet and Anna let out an involuntary screech.

“You have some company,” Mayor Sykes laughed, taking her arm, as if protecting her. “That bother you?”