Page 11 of The Devoted Game

Schaffer moved in to get a better look. “That”—she pointed to the building in question—“I believe, is the Social Security Administration.”

“That’s correct,” Davis chimed in, his fingers running over the computer keys. “Employs three hundred fifty people.”

“Oak Hill Cemetery is a historic landmark barely a block from here,” Grace said, leaning past Ryan to get a better look at the map. “It was the first cemetery in Birmingham proper.”

Ryan’s long-slumbering instincts suddenly roused. Would the unsub have the balls to use a cemeterythat closeto the very authorities he was baiting? Judging by his actions thus far, that was an affirmative.

Ifthe location was even a cemetery. For now that was a hunch, the only one they had.Hecould be wrong. The termstiffas used in the email might not carry a double meaning as many of the other phrases obviously did.

“Cemetery’s on a hillside?” he confirmed with Schaffer as he traced the highlighted area on the map.

She nodded. “It certainly is.”

It all fell into place as if the answer had been typed in big bold letters in that email. He tapped the map again. “That’s it.”

Grace chewed on her bottom lip a second, distracting him when he shouldn’t have been distractible.

“How can you be so certain?” she countered. “This seems too easy. Sure, the Social Security Administration provides a form of assurance to the elderly, and maybe Alyssa Byrne’s father isn’t paying as he should, but we can’t be certain.”

“Don’t forget,” Pratt piped up, “our unsub said ‘where hundreds can see.’ The SSA employs hundreds.”

Grace exchanged a look with Pratt as if she didn’t appreciate that he had challenged her assessment.

“You said Byrne owns a construction company,” Ryan said to her, his certainty solidifying in spite of her questions.

“Two of them,” Grace confirmed, still seeming unconvinced.

“It wouldn’t hurt to look into how many off-the-record folks he employs,” Schaffer offered, looking from Grace to Ryan.

Taking that ball and running with it, Ryan pressed, “Does he pay Social Security on every employee?” When Grace still looked skeptical,he tacked on, “This is the best lead we have based on the clues we were given. Unless we get something else, that’s where we go.”

Grace turned to Schaffer. “Can you nudge Worth to question Byrne about his hiring practices?”

“ASAP.” Schaffer strode off to get it done, her boot heels tapping against the floor.

Ryan glanced at the clock on the wall. The hours were counting off way too fast. The urge to make a move was palpable. “I don’t want to wait,” he said to Grace. “Let’s go. Pratt, Davis, and Aldridge can rendezvous with the Birmingham PD team and meet us there.”

“What if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, McBride?” Grace asked, caution and inexperience making her hesitate. “Is there a backup plan?”

He picked up the map for Oak Hill Cemetery. “Then we’ll do whatever we have to. That’s our backup plan.”

“I have to give Worth a heads-up.”

“Do it.”

Maybe this was too easy. Maybe he did have it all wrong. But there was only one way to find out.

Four

16hours remaining. . .

Oak Hill Cemetery, 7:00 p.m.

This felt wrong.

Vivian guided her SUV onto the narrow road that led through the gate and onto cemetery property. Before the vehicle came to a complete stop, McBride hopped out. He walked a few feet, then turned all the way around to take in the foreign setting that was so familiar to her. City streets flanked the property on all sides, creating an island of the dead surrounded by a sea of asphalt and commuters. Traffic provided a dull drone of background music underscored by the occasional incoming commercial airliner that heralded the airport’s proximity.

No peace for the dead here.