Richard Brighton’s been scoping out Steve’s office. He has no reason to care about my daddy’s case—unless his gun makes him a suspect.

I AIN’T NEVER SCARED

I don’t know how, but I persuade Quincy to join me at the Pike. This time, it’s closer to dusk. He parks his car farther away than I did, near some large brush so it’s hidden from view. Quincy is shaking his head when we walk across the grass. As much as Quincy doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t leave a gap between us.

“Where we looking?” Quincy says.

“The path. The building. Until we cover every inch.”

We take slow, methodical steps. I retrace my route where I found the splatters of blood and flattened path in the tall grass. This time it’s darker inside the building, with less light coming through the dusty windows.

We stop in front of the warehouse doors. I look to the parking lot that’s completely empty, hoping it stays that way.

“Let’s walk the perimeter of the building. Maybe Angela got around here first before she got caught up in trouble.”

“Bet.”

We pace around the building, kicking the tall grass down and stepping over it to make sure we don’t miss a gun tossed in the grass.

“Wouldn’t the police already comb through this area again after Beverly turned in Angela’s phone?” Quincy asks.

“They don’t know to look for a gun.”

“They weren’t not looking for a gun.”

“I didn’t know you scared so easily.” I chuckle, and Quincy gives me a side-eye.

“This would be much easier if it was daytime,” he says. “It’ll be pitch-black out here in a few hours.”

“I know,” I say. “But I’ve tried morning—I was held at gunpoint by Galveston’s finest.”

“I notice how you remind me of that after we’re already out here.”

Once we search around the building, we enter through the wooden doors.

“Over there.” I point to the small opening I crawled through the first time. “That’s where I found her phone.”

“You fit through that?” Quincy asks.

The space looks smaller, but I was so desperate at the time. I shoved myself through, had the bruises the next day to prove it. Angela could’ve been in a worse situation. She made herself fit.

Quincy scans the building. “This would be the only space to be unseen. Spy on someone.”

“That’s true. She wanted an exposé, doing everything she could to get something on them. Maybe she was planning on taking photos from here. Documenting this meeting? But she dropped her phone.”

“Think you can fit through again?”

I walk closer to the narrow gap that’s sandwiched between the conveyer belt and the wall.