Page 14 of The Devoted Game

“Oh God.” She pointed to the corner on her right. She had to lean slightly in that direction to see it better, but there was no mistaking what it was. “A burlap bag,” she said aloud. Pain snarled deep in her chest. “Possibly bloodstained.”

McBride eased between the two tombs, headed for that corner. She took care to follow his exact path to avoid disturbing any evidence that might be invisible to the naked eye on the cleanly swept floor.

“Should we get a forensics team in here first?” All the rules of procedure she had learned were suddenly missing from her readily accessible gray matter. Dear God, she couldn’t bear the thought of what that bag might contain. Damn it! Why did it have to turn out this way?

McBride looked from her to the bag. “If the kid’s already dead, we need to know it now.” He shook his head slowly, his face grim. “I hate these bastards.”

She couldn’t agree more.

As he crouched down to inspect the bloody bag, images of what might be inside flared in vivid color before her retinas. Vivian told herself to move. To get over there and do what she could to assist him ... but she couldn’t prompt her body into action. Something she couldn’t brand as fear but couldn’t rule out as exactly that had paralyzed her.

And then, as if some mental door had suddenly swung open, the memories came.

Flashes of darkness ... whispered words seared through her brain. And she was suddenly back there ... in the dark ... withhimwhispering in her ear ... her every instinct warning that she was going to die.

A gasp drew dank, dusty air into her lungs.

“Agent Grace?”

McBride was staring at her.

Vivian blinked, wrestled for composure. “I’m ...” She licked her lips, forced her legs to move. “I’m okay.” She crouched down next to him. “Let’s get it over with.”

Focus, damn it! Analyze the details. Do your job!“The bag isn’t large enough to hold a six-year-old girl unless ...” She gulped back the bile rising in her throat. More of those flashes from the past bombarded her senses. Body parts ... missing pieces ... half-eaten flesh.

“Unless she’s been dismembered,” McBride finished for her, his expression questioning. “Not enough blood for that, Grace. Excluding the possibility,” he qualified, his tone cool and analytical, “the dismembering took place at a different location.”

Don’t look at the past! Pay attention.This wasn’t easy on McBride either. As collected as he sounded, when he reached for the tie of the bag his hands shook.

Details, Grace. Look at the details.Twine. Carefully knotted. A minute-plus was required for him to get the knots undone. Every second aged her a decade. Had the rage inside her building toward an eruption.Please don’t let this be that little girl. Please. Please. Please.

When the bag was open, she leaned forward just as he did. Peered inside.Shit!She jerked back. Her butt slammed onto the floor.

“Is that ...?” She dragged in a bumpy gulp of air, looked to McBride for confirmation.

“Rats,” he muttered as he stared into the bag. “A whole bag full of rats.”

Not the child ... not the child.

Thank God.

Grabbing back her courage, she levered up from the floor.

“Hold this,” he ordered.

Easy for him to say.Her hands shaking, her legs a little rubbery, Vivian crouched next to him once more and held the bag open. He used the Maglite to get a better look.

Why the hell would this creep kill all those rats? As much as she disliked the rodents, torturing any living creature was just sick.

“What do we have here?” McBride lifted a rat from the pile. What appeared to be a toe tag hung from its hind leg.

Vivian shuddered, felt her traitorous stomach do another of those warning flip-flops.

“UAB Medical Research Center,” McBride read off. His profile hardened. “Andrew Quinn.”

Vivian tilted her head to read the name written on the toe tag. “Isn’t that your old supervisor?”

McBride heaved a mighty breath. “The one and only.”