“I took photos from here and all around the area down below,” said Andrews.
Katie was the first down the stairs. They felt sturdy, as if they had been constructed recently. She stepped into the room and stood in the middle taking a very slow three-hundred-sixty-degree scan of the area. It didn’t appear to be a living space, but rather an office with old wood filing cabinets and a table pushed up against one side. There was an antique Persian rug taking up most of the floor. The ceiling was low, barely over six feet. It gave a definite feeling of claustrophobia, especially without there being windows.
“Ow,” said McGaven as he hit his head stepping into the room.
“Sorry, partner, I forgot to tell you heads-up.”
“Thanks,” he said sarcastically.
Katie was drawn to the large horizontal filing cabinet. She pulled open the top drawer and was surprised to see it wasn’t locked. “Huh, why wouldn’t they keep this locked?”
“Probably because no one knew it was here.” McGaven rubbed his forehead.
The long drawer was used to hold architectural drawings. She looked at the dates on the bottom and saw most of them were more than twenty years old.
McGaven joined her, slightly stooping. “What are those?”
“They look to be archived architectural drawings and renderings.”
“From where?”
“It looks like the area around the Collins homestead.”
McGaven looked around the dingy room. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “Andrews, can you call the Pine Valley Hospital and find out when Trey Roberts will be released?”
“On it.” He left to find an area with cell phone coverage.
“Why would someone like Roberts have these files in this retrofitted underground room?” said McGaven.
“I don’t know, but let’s take an overall inventory of what’s here.”
The detectives spent half an hour looking in every drawer, taking some photos, and then jotting down specifics. Not all the filing drawers were designed for architectural drawings. Some had what appeared to be keepsakes, snippets of clothing, and old firearms, mostly revolvers. None of the guns were loaded and the ammunition couldn’t be found.
“You know what this reminds me of?” said Katie.
McGaven stopped searching and looked at her. “What?”
“A crime lab. Think about it. Architectural drawings, personal items that could have been taken from someone’s house, and of course, the firearms.”
“I agree. It’s like a cold case from decades ago.”
“We need forensics out here. The contents need to be brought back to the department. I know it’s a lot of work, but maybe these guns and maps might connect to other unsolved crimes—and maybe… it might connect to our cases,” she said.
“I’ll put a call to John and Eva.” McGaven left the underground room.
Katie felt bad for John due to the amount of evidence that needed to be gone through. She wasn’t sure if it warranted their attention, but it was too strange and coincidental to not be fully examined.
She took a few more notes and then climbed the stairs. McGaven and Andrews were talking.
“Bad news,” said McGaven.
Katie’s heart sank, bracing for what he was about to say.
“Trey Roberts died two hours ago from kidney failure,” said McGaven.
She let out a sigh.
