THE NEXT DAY, DEE AND Connie waited in the empty parking lot of a desolate, white building with tinted windows and chains across the doors.
Dee surveyed the 9000-square foot structure from her car window. “Didn’t this used to be a strip mall back in the day?”
Connie looked at the sign where half the letters had fallen off. “Where is Carroll?” She checked the clock on the dashboard. “It’s nine fifty, and he said he’d be here by nine.”
A shiny, black Porsche Panamera turned into the lot, jamming 80’s soft rock music.
“Man.” Connie whistled. “Look at that car.”
“That must be him.”
The car came to a smooth stop and a lean man around 6’5 with sleek brown hair and long sideburns stepped out of it.
“He’s huge,” Connie whispered.
“Are you the detectives?” He wore a light-blue shirt with a
