Falling Awake

the line.
    “I don’t want to worry you, because I think everything is okay but I just went by your unit and noticed that the padlock is missing. Did you forget to replace it last time you were out here?”

    “No, I most certainly did not. Are you sure it’s my unit you’re talking about?”
    “Number G-fifteen. Says here on the form it’s yours.”
    “Yes, that’s mine.”
    “There’s a lot of big furniture boxes inside. Doesn’t look like anything’s missing but—”
    “There’s something wrong here. I checked that padlock when I left. Look, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes. Keep an eye on that unit until I get there, understand?”
    “Sure, but like I said, I don’t think there’s anything missing. Probably you just forgot to lock up.”
    “I did not forget to lock up. See you in a few minutes.”
    She ended the call, dumped the manual and her notebook onto the passenger seat and got behind the wheel.
    She shoved the key into the ignition and roared out of the parking lot. She punched in Ellis’s number with one hand while she drove toward the old highway. He answered on the first ring.
    “I have to stop by Roxanna Beach Self Storage on my way home,” she said. “There’s a problem with the lock on my unit.”
    “What kind of problem?”
    “The attendant says it’s missing. He thinks everything is okay but I know I locked up the last time I went out there. I’m sure of it.”
    “I’ll meet you there,” Ellis said.
    “There’s no need for you to drive all the way out there. The storage company is on this side of town. It will take you at least twenty minutes and I—”
    “I’ll see you there,” he repeated.

    He ended the call before she could argue further.
    She drove to the sprawling rental locker facility on the outskirts of town and parked just inside the gates. There were two other vehicles in the lot, a battered pickup and an aged sedan.
    She got out and walked swiftly across the graveled lot to the office.
    There was no one behind the desk. A small sign announced that the attendant would be back in five minutes.
    She was irritated by the delay until she recalled that she had more or less ordered the attendant to keep an eye on the storage unit until she arrived. She started briskly along the graveled path that led to locker G-15.
    “Are you Ms. Wright?” A scrawny man with narrow features partially veiled by the brim of a gray cap waved at her from the space between two long storage buildings. He wore an ill-fitting gray work shirt bearing the logo of the Roxanna Beach Self Storage company. A small duffel bag dangled from one hand.
    “Yes. You’re Tom, I assume?”
    “Yes, ma’am. Everything’s okay.”
    “I want to see my unit for myself.”
    “I’m telling you, there’s nothing wrong there.”
    “What about the padlock?”
    “It was all a mistake. I got mixed up about the locker numbers, that’s all.”
    “As long as I’m here, I’ll double-check.”
    She went quickly past him, her low-heeled pumps crunching on the gravel.

    “Suit yourself,” Tom muttered. He slouched along in her wake.
    “If any of my furniture is missing, I’m going to—”
    She drew up short at the entrance to the locker. The garage-style door was closed but she could see that the heavy-duty padlock she had purchased was gone.
    “Someone did break into my locker.” She leaned down, seized the handle of the door and rolled it up. “If anything is missing, I swear, I will sue this company up one side and down the other.”
    When she got the door to shoulder height she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. She ducked underneath.
    The large interior of the storage unit was drenched in shadows. But relief shot through her when she realized that she could make out the large shapes of the crates and cartons stacked inside.
    She groped for the wall switch and flipped it.
    The first thing she saw was a man’s bare leg sticking out from behind the crate that held the sofa.
    “There’s someone in here,” she shouted. “I think he’s been injured.”
    She dropped her purse on the floor and hurried toward the fallen man. He was naked except for a pair of boxer shorts, grimy tee shirt and socks. There was a dark pool of blood on the floor behind his head. He groaned when she crouched down and touched him.
    “Call nine-one-one,” she shouted.
    She was vaguely aware of Tom reaching into his duffel bag. But the object he removed was not a phone.
    And