Chapter 3 - Trapped in the Dark
Finnley immediately killed the overhead light, plunging the storage unit into pitch blackness. He held his breath, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Outside, a low voice spoke, muffled but distinctly recognizable. It was Carter.
"I'm telling you, I saw the old man from the cemetery talking to someone," Carter hissed into a cell phone. "If Finnley goes to the storage facility dad kept on the east side, he’s going to find the documents. We need to clear it out tonight."
Finnley reached out in the dark, his hand wrapping around a heavy iron tire iron resting on the side of the crate. He couldn't let them take this evidence. It was his only ticket to freedom, his only way to clear his name and avenge his father.
"Yeah, I'm at the gate now," Carter continued outside, his voice moving closer down the row of units. "I'm checking the logs. The old man used to lease unit 108 under his mother's maiden name. I'm walking up to it now."
Finnley slipped the briefcase under his arm and squeezed into the narrow space between the oak desk and the back wall, pulling a tarp over himself. The footsteps stopped right outside Unit 108. The handle of the corrugated door rattled violently. Carter swore loudly as he realized the padlock was already unlocked.
The door flew upward with a loud clang. The beam of a heavy flashlight swept across the room, illuminating the oak desk and the plastic crates. Finnley remained perfectly still under the tarp, barely breathing.
Carter walked inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He approached the desk, muttering to himself as he tossed the papers on top aside. "Where is the briefcase? The old man always kept the primary ledger in the briefcase."
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At that moment, Carter’s phone rang loudly, shattering the silence. He answered it quickly. "Reagan? What? The police are at the house? Why? A neighbor reported a disturbance?" Carter cursed under his breath, turning around sharply. "I have to go. Someone’s poking around the property. I'll come back with a bolt cutter for the crates later."
Carter rushed out, slamming the door shut but forgetting to lock it in his haste. Finnley emerged from the shadows, dripping with sweat but holding the briefcase tightly. He knew he had to move fast. The timeline had just accelerated.
