「The next day.」
Dean and his two colleagues, having obtained a search warrant, drove immediately to the warehouse.
The warehouse Marcus had rented was located in the suburbs of Los Angeles.
It was typically used by small companies for storing goods in transit or items not moved frequently, so visitors were rare.
The warehouse keeper was an elderly white man.
When the three of them went to find him, the man was still fast asleep, clutching a liquor bottle.
Harry pounded on the door a few times.
The old man showed no reaction at all.
If they hadn't seen his chest rising and falling through the glass window, they might have mistaken him for a corpse.
"I genuinely worry for the clients who chose this warehouse," Harry said helplessly.
"You think they care?" Lawrence gestured upwards. "There are plenty of cameras here. Even if the warehouse gets robbed, the company has insurance to cover it. This old guy is probably just a mascot."
