The door closed behind me, quieting the howling wind. Silence filled my ears. I pulled the hood of the coat back and peeled the mask off my face.
The air smelled stagnate, stale even. My nose crinkled. I knocked the ash from my shoulders and stuffed the mask into the pocket of the coat.
I looked over the hallway, trying to pierce the blackness before me. The subtle outline of the building bled through the darkness. At the far end of the entryway, I spotted what looked to be a freight elevator—dark and void of any power.
I walked down the corridor, past closed doors in search of a flight of stairs. The soles of my shoes rapped against the floor. My eyes adjusted some to the low light, giving me a better sense of my surroundings.
I kept my hand close to the Beretta, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. I listened for any subtle noises, but heard nothing more than silence, and the hint of the howling wind. I passed by an opening within the wall and spotted what looked to be a banister in the murk.
My hand reached out and stepped closer. The tips of my fingers grazed the rough-wood surface. My foot felt for a step and found one.
I climbed up and around the stairs to the landing of the second floor. The large window at the end of the hallway breathed some light into the dark corridor. I peered down both sides of the hallway, but didn’t notice any movement.
Jessie’s apartment was on the top floorؘ—loft number 1022. I moved around to the next flight of stairs and climbed. Each step echoed throughout the building. My hand stayed glued to the banister, aiding me up the staircase.
A door slammed from the third floor. I paused on the steps and trained an attentive ear, listening for any footfalls heading my way. My hand hovered above the grip of the Beretta. No other sounds came.
I worked my way up the final two flights of stairs to the top floor of the building. A bit more light shone through the window at the end of the wide hallway. I glanced down the corridor both ways, scanning for any bodies moving about.
A clicking sound echoed in the dead silence in the direction of the window, followed by a door opening. I turned and studied the hallway, trying to locate the source of the noise.
A shadowy figure emerged from one of the loft apartments and stood in the corridor. I couldn’t get a clear visual of the person from the low light and the shadows that concealed his face. From the size and thickness of his body, it had to be a man.
I took a step forward, and the wood floor creaked under me.
The figure stopped and looked my way.
“Jessie?” I asked, inching my way down the hallway toward him.
He darted back into the loft and slammed the door. The lock engaged.
I pulled the Beretta from my waistband, trained it at the door, and made my way down the corridor. The wood floor sounded a warning with each step. I checked each apartment I passed for any open doors or signs of possible trouble. Each space sat silent.
I crept close to the wall and craned my neck, closing in on his residence. My hands adjusted on the grip of the Beretta. I toed the outer edge of the frame, then moved to the other side of the door, noticing 1022 on the surface.
I took position against the wall. The floor creaked once more. Gunfire exploded from inside the loft.
Bullets punched through the door, peppering the far wall. I yanked my hand away, then took a step back. He popped off four rounds, then stopped firing.
“I’m here to talk, Jessie. That’s all,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Go to hell,” a muffled voice answered near the door. “You come through that door and I’ll cut you in half. I can promise you that.”
“Listen. I only want some information. Answer my questions and I’ll leave you be.” I looked at the door.
“Screw you.” He fired three more rounds through the door.
I took two deep breaths, then pushed away from the wall. I shot at the doorknob and deadbolt, then kicked the side of the door. Wood splintered and the door flung open, swinging inside the loft.
Footfalls hammered the floor, moving away from the entrance. I caught a flash of movement darting across the loft. I limped toward the opening with the Beretta trained ahead of me. I peered around the blind corner, then stepped inside.
Light flickered from all over the dwelling. A mixture of candles and lanterns sat around the cavernous loft. A few pieces of furniture lay scattered about along with many boxes and other random junk that cluttered the floors.
Ash blew against the floor to ceiling windows lining the far wall. The subtle drip of water pinged from the kitchen near me. The smell of cigarette smoke and body odor tainted the residence.
I swept the space. Jessie had vanished, hiding somewhere among the junk. I grabbed the edge of the door, shut it, and searched the loft.
“Come on, Jessie. We don’t have time for this.” I checked every nook and dark corner as I made my way through his place. “William’s dead and the men who killed him are coming for you next. The clock is ticking.”
“How do I know you’re not with them?” he asked, his voice rising an octave.
“William’s wife, Cindy, asked me to come here. I saved her from the men who kidnapped her and William. They’re looking for something that you and William stole, and if they don’t get it back, they’re going to kill her and her son,” I shot back. “All I want is whatever it is that you
