EXT. to INT. - WATERFRONT WAREHOUSE - DAY

Ray pulled up twenty minutes later behind an ambulance with its lights flashing. She waved to the two paramedics pulling equipment out of the back before heading for the front of the run-down warehouse. The smell of rotting fish and salt washed over her, the harbor close. Far from the commercial beaches, the industrial area was about as ugly as she expected, all rusting chain link fences and galvanized steel buildings crowding the ...