Chapter 36
The warehouse our tip had directed us to was huge and old, and looked like it might fall over if you leaned on it the wrong way. The peeling paint on the sign looked like sunburned skin, and it was obvious that if this had ever been a working warehouse it had fallen on hard times a long time ago. The letters on the sign read Coheese Industrial Storage, but the last three letters were missing from the end of it. Duffy and I were in the parking lot, trying to decide exactly what to do next.
“This is how it started,” I said. “Sitting in a car in a parking lot.”
“Not really, though,” said Duffy. “Right? This really started somewhere else, with you and the Kohl woman in a punk club one night. You should never have joined the Bureau, Holder. You’re not Bureau material. You’re still
