"Get forensics in here." Callie's voice was quiet.
Before anyone could respond, a deputy's voice crackled over the radio. "We've got something in the gray barn. East side. Need you over here."
They crossed the yard in the rain. The gray barn was older than the red one, its boards weathered and warped. Inside, a deputy stood in the center aisle pointing at the floor. A section of boards had been pried up, revealing a trapdoor set into the earth beneath. It was open. A set of crude wooden steps descended into darkness.
Noah took a flashlight from his belt and went down first. The steps were steep and narrow, the walls on either side packedearth reinforced with old timbers. The air was cool and damp and carried the smell of soil and sweat and something chemical, something that had been used to clean.
The corridor at the bottom ran the full length of the structure above. It was narrow, maybe four feet wide, with a low ceiling that forced Noah to duck. The flashlight beam swept across the space and he stopped walking.
On either side of the corridor, set into the earthen walls, were stalls. Not horse stalls. These were smaller. Each one held a cot, a thin mattress, a bucket. Some had blankets wadded at the foot of the bed. Some had personal items, a hairbrush, a book, a pair of shoes placed neatly beside the cot. The stalls had no doors, just openings, but the walls between them were solid and the corridor was the only way in or out.
Callie came down behind him, her flashlight joining his. The two beams moved in silence along the row. Seven stalls on each side. Fourteen total. Some had been used recently, the bedding disturbed, the buckets emptied but not cleaned. Others looked like they hadn't been occupied in a long time, the mattresses stiff and stained, cobwebs in the corners.
On a shelf at the end of the corridor, lined up with deliberate care, were boxes of condoms, bottles of lubricant, and a collection of items that Callie photographed without comment.
"What is hidden will be revealed," McKenzie muttered, standing behind them at the base of the stairs. "Isn't that what they say in the good book?"
Nobody answered. Noah stood in the corridor and let the flashlight move from stall to stall. Fourteen beds. Underground. Beneath a religious compound in the Adirondack mountains, on a property run by a woman who had denied knowing a dead girl's name.
The rain drummed on the roof above them, muffled by the earth, turned into a low rumble that sounded like something breathing.
15
Noah found Ray in his office with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled, standing behind his desk with a map of the county tacked to the wall behind him. Red pins marked the bog, the farm, and three other locations that Noah assumed were connected to the investigation. Ray was studying them.
"The farm was used for all the erotic photos," Noah said from the doorway. "We figure the Three Pillar Community has been a cover. The deli offers jobs to draw people in. They connect them with the agency and things progress from there. At some point they offer the girls a way to make more money. The beds underground are part of some cam service. Nudes. Sex. You get the drift."
"And Garrett Finch?" Ray asked.
"You know how car dealerships have a loss leader? His photography business is that. A way to bring girls in, feel them out, gauge their comfort level. Their desperation for money. If they're willing to do boudoir, they might be open to erotic. And the next step up from that is being a cam model or whatever elsewas happening on that farm. Our officers are still going over the property, interviewing members."
"And Tabitha is at the center of it?"
"We assume."
"A real David Koresh in the making."
"Not exactly. But a damn good cover. So far Tabitha says she knew nothing about it."
Ray snorted. "Of course not."
"And our tattooed friend?"
"So far no luck. And none of the community members are talking. We have officers bringing in Garrett Finch again as we speak. But we know for certain that Fiona Spence was at that barn the night she went missing. Whether it was before or after her car was abandoned, that part we don’t know. She told Ruby she was heading to Finch's place, but Ruby didn't know about any of this. I guess Fiona didn't want to tell her."
"And has the Spence girl shown up among the bodies yet?"
"Not so far. The father, Mark Spence, still thinks we're blowing this out of proportion. But I don't think he knows about the photos."
"And any of those women from the bog in Garrett's files?"
"No."
"So just Fiona. And she was eighteen. Garrett's lawyer is going to claim she was old enough to do erotic photography." Ray ran a hand over his head. "Shit. See what you can get out of Tabitha."
"Callie is handling it," Noah said.
McKenzie was alreadyin the observation room when Noah arrived, leaning back in a chair with a coffee balanced on hisknee and his eyes on the glass. On the other side, Tabitha Smith sat at the interview table with her hands folded, her headscarf slightly crooked, her face carrying the same composed calm she'd worn at the deli and at the compound and everywhere else Noah had seen her. Callie sat across from her, a folder open on the table between them.
