Free The Scent of Murder by Barbara Block Page A

outside.”
    Then he stepped inside. I felt a little like Alice going into Wonderland, as I followed him through.

Chapter 8
    I looked around. We were standing in a hallway that was maybe ten feet wide at the most. The place had that fusty odor places get when they’re not lived in or worked in for a long time. I rubbed my arms. It felt colder in here than it did outside, but at least it wasn’t pitch-black. A large metal industrial style lamp looped onto a pipe which ran across the ceiling and threw a ragged white light on the cement walls and concrete floor. It seemed as if we’d stepped into a different time, but whether it was feudal or postmodern, I couldn’t tell.
    I pointed to the lamp. “Who tapped into the power lines?”
    Manuel shook his head. “I don’t know. Come on.” He motioned for me to follow him down the hall. “We have to go this way.”
    I trailed my hand along the wall as I walked. It felt rough to the touch. We’d taken about five steps when two girls materialized in the corridor in front of us. They were both bundled up against the cold in long black skirts, heavy sweaters, lace up boots, and patched, oversized ski parkas.
    The smaller one shaded her eyes with her hand, trying to see into the gloom. “Lisa?” she asked. Her voice was childishly high. “Is that you?”
    â€œSorry.”
    The two girls froze in alarm at the sound of my voice. In another moment, I was sure they’d be gone, vanishing into the bowels of the warehouse.
    Manuel stepped in front of me. “It’s okay,” he said, and he put up both hands, palms facing outward, to show he meant no harm.
    The bigger girl took a step back. “What do you want?”
    â€œEverything’s fine.” Manuel’s voice was low and soothing. “Don’t you remember me? I was here with Rabbit. At the party. The one last week,” he added, when he didn’t get a response. “I brought the Bud.”
    The smaller girl snapped her fingers and giggled. “Yeah. That’s right. You’re the one that got sick all over Jamal’s shoes and passed out.”
    Manuel screwed up his mouth in an expression of outrage. “Hey, I just shut my eyes for a couple of minutes.”
    The bigger girl put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me! You were out cold. Rabbit had to drag you out of here.” Her face had relaxed while she talking to Manuel, but then she glanced at me, and she started looking scared again. “What does she want?” she asked, indicating me with a nod of her head.
    Manuel stamped his feet. The cold must have been getting to him. I know it was getting to me. I could feel it seeping up through the floor, through the soles of my shoes, into the bottoms of my feet. I began to wish I’d put on heavier socks. “She just wants to ask you a few questions,” he said.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAmy Richmond,” I explained. “I’m looking for her. Manuel told me she might be here.”
    The girl made a minute adjustment to the pocket flap of her parka before answering. “Well Manuel is wrong. She was here, but she left.”
    â€œI see.” I took a couple of steps towards the girls, then stopped and waited for a reaction. When there was none, I took a few more. As I slowly drifted towards them, I realized I was doing the same kind of thing I did when I tried to get close to a stray cat. “And when was that?” I asked, when I was within eight feet.
    â€œA couple of days ago.”
    I nodded towards the corridor they were standing in front of. “So if I walk in there, I won’t see her?”
    â€œI just told you that,” the girl who was doing the talking replied.
    â€œFine.” I made conciliatory noises. I didn’t want to antagonize my only source of information. “Did Amy happen to say where she was going?”
    The girls exchanged glances. Now that my eyes