CHAPTER TWENTY
After calling Jamila to tell her not to wait up for me, I got on the phone to Amber Moore to get the exact address. Then I called 911 and told them about the call. I turned the car around and headed back toward the processing plant, wondering who or what I’d find. As for Jamila, I figured the less she knew, the better.
When I arrived on the scene, the lot where we’d parked mere hours earlier was overflowing with cars. Many of them sported rooftop visibars, creating a red-and-blue disco scene. Uniformed cops swarmed the grounds. One stood at the door, apparently on guard.
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