Page 34 of The Devoted Game

A water hose!

“McBride!”

Before she could even look up, he was crouched next to her. She held the light on the strip of hose she had uncovered. He pushed to his feet, followed the barely noticeable trail all the way to a small window in the old powerhouse.

But they had searched that area two or three times.

What had they missed?

Her heart pounding, Vivian hurried inside right behind him. They located the spot where the hose entered the room.

A dead end.

Dammit.

The hose hung limply down the wall, its ringed end going nowhere.

“Son of a bitch!” McBride snarled. He whipped out his pack of cigarettes and planted one in his mouth, then lit it.

Vivian hadn’t seen him smoke all night. The stress was getting to him. She felt the final remnants of hope draining out of her. Yetsomethingnagged at her, wouldn’t permit her to let it go completely.

Outside the water hose had felt cool. With the temps in the eighties and nineties by day and the sixties and seventies by night, there was no reason for the hose to be cool unless water was flowing through it.

Her gaze landed on the limp section of hose dangling from the window. She crossed back to it, touched it, room temperature, not cool like the other—no water running through it. She went back outside to where she had located the trench and knelt down to scan the area on either side with her flashlight.

And then she found what she was looking for.

Old fuel and oil cans had been arranged in a haphazard pile to camouflage a secondary path that branched off from the first. The first path had been a decoy. The unsub had counted on the idea that once they found that section of hose entering the window and going nowhere they would assume that was it and move on. Since their search had been focused on areas where water could be contained, a pile of leftover rust-eaten cans and crates wasn’t of interest.

“Over here, McBride!”

Together, she and McBride moved the cans and other junk aside to see where the path led. They had been in and around this building a dozen times. The site manager had said that mostly “junk” was kept in the old powerhouse. It had taken only a quick glance inside to knowthere was nothing of the size necessary for storing a body. Plus, there was no water source, which had eliminated the building’s potential altogether, ensuring they moved on.

But their unsub was a smart guy; he had provided his own water supply.

Vivian stalled, got a glimpse of a hose draped along the back of an old Reddy Ice freezer. Anticipation jolted her. “I think this is it.”

McBride moved around to where she stood on one end of the commercial container.

“It goes through there.” She pointed to the back of the freezer, up near the top. This had to be it These old Reddy Ice freezers weren’t designed tomakeice, only to keep it frozen. There wouldn’t be any need for a water supply.

A single metal door in the front was the only access. Jesus. If she had only been looking rather than visually eliminating possibilities, she would have recognized this thing’s potential all the times she had walked past it before.

Plain sight.

She moved to the front of the container and pulled on the door handle. It didn’t budge. As she trailed the flashlight’s beam around the door, she could see no apparent reason for it to be that difficult to open.

McBride came around to the front. “The motor isn’t running, but the side is cool to the touch.”

Like the water hose.

“I tried pulling the hose out. He must have attached a nozzle from the inside and it’s too big to come through the hole.” He pulled at the door the way Vivian had. “Call Pratt,” he said as he pulled even harder. “Tell him we need a couple of pry bars and some more muscle over here. And something to cut that hose. We have to stop the water.”

Stunned at the idea that it could have been this simple, Vivian made the call, reholstered her phone, and then tucked her flashlight under her arm. Her heart thudding, she wrapped the fingers of both hands around the handle and pulled in unison with McBride. It still didn’tbudge. “It’s”—their eyes met—“like it’s sealed.” Her chest constricted. “Can she be getting any air in there?”

McBride roved his light over the front and sides of the dirty white container. Found nothing other than the occasional rusty spot in the paint. Knots formed in Vivian’s stomach. No holes ... no air.

He shoved a bucket off the top of the old freezer, leaned against the front to get a closer look at the back. Vivian’s throat went dry as she watched the flashlight’s beam go back and forth over that surface.