“Can I borrow a flashlight?” Marty asked, and Carter handed him one.
The steps were bare wood and seemed solid enough, but that wasn’t what caught Marty’s eye. He sent the beam of light along the side wall. “Look there,” he said.
“That dirt?” Carter asked. “This place is filthy.”
“Yeah, with dust and crap. That’s mud, like from the bottom or the side of a shoe.” He went closer. “And see that curve? It’s part of the toe of a shoe. Take pictures of it, please. That’s important evidence, because the shoe is small. From a kid.”
“How in the hell do you know all that?” Carter asked as he took flash images all along the wall with his phone.
“When I was ten, my dad, the heap-big hunter, decided that I should go out and learn how to be a man with him.” Marty continued shining the light around but saw nothing else. “I hated every minute of it because I didn’t want to shoot animals. I still don’t. It’s why I’m vegetarian.” He continued down the stairs very carefully. Finally they reached the bottom. Grant had set up a light at one end, so at least he could see a little.
“I’m back here,” Grant called, and Marty made his way over.
“There’s someone here, and he’s been carried down the stairs. They have small shoes.” Marty looked around, shining the light on the floor. Dexter sat by a wall his mouth open. “What is he doing?”
“Signaling that someone is there, but we don’t know how to get to him.” Grant began feeling the walls.
“Use the floor. The walls are useless. Check for an area that may have been disturbed, or dirt and dust that could have been scattered by hand. That will be the telltale sign, just like the cistern door.” Marty continued looking while Grant radioed to Red.
“Backup has been called,” Grant told him. “They’ll bring more lights and personnel.”
“Light would be great, but unless we want to rip this place apart—and I doubt the owner who gave permission is willing to go that far—I think we need to keep searching.” Marty walked over to a worktable and shone the light around it. “Got it,” he said. “We need to move this old workbench out of here. But it needs to be lifted and not dragged.”
Carter took more pictures of everything in that area, and then he and Grant each got on one side and moved the bench to the center of the open space. “What is it you see?”
Marty shone his light right on the spot. “Wood embedded in the roughness of the concrete. The bench was dragged.” Hepushed on the wall, and it shook a little like it was loose but wasn’t going to come free.
“What the fuck is that?”
“I think it’s an old access hatch. I don’t think the entire basement was finished, and this is the access to the unfinished portion. It’s another feature of some buildings, probably trying to cut costs or build around an outcropping of bedrock. One of the homes I looked at had that.”
“How do we get in?” Grant asked.
“Kick it in,” Marty said, and Grant got on the floor and slammed the wall with his foot. The wood splintered. He kicked again, and the access hatch fell to pieces.
Grant crawled inside as three other officers arrived. “Get an ambulance here now,” he yelled, and the officers got to work while Marty stood to the side. “He’s alive, but barely breathing.”
“On it,” one of the officers said, and Grant’s feet appeared in the hole and then his torso, followed by the little boy in his arms. He cradled the little boy gently, and Marty knew how hard this was for him.
“Get him out of here,” one of the officers said, “so you can meet the ambulance.
“I’m right behind you.” Marty wasn’t going to stick around there. By the time they got out of the basement and to the door of the store, the ambulance was just pulling up. The EMTs took Cameron—god he hoped this was him—and lifted him into the back, where they started an IV.
“He’s barely there,” one of the EMTs said. “But he’s breathing on his own, even if his pulse is really weak.”
“He was locked up for days, as near as we can tell,” Grant told them. “I don’t know how long it’s been since he had anything to eat or drink.”
“We’re going to transport him.”
Marty climbed into the ambulance. “I’m going with him.” He looked at Grant. There was no way in hell he was letting this little boy go to the hospital alone. Who knew what kind of home life he had, but Marty was sure as hell not letting him go through this on his own.
“Is he family?” the EMT asked.
Grant drew right up to the door. “He’s a foster child, and this is the man who found him.” No one seemed to want to argue with Grant, and at the moment Marty could have kissed the life out of him. “I need to finish up here, but Harris will ride with you, and I’ll be up there just as soon as I can.” Grant took his hand and squeezed it. The other officer climbed in, and Grant let go and closed the ambulance door. Within moments Marty was buckled in, the sirens sounded, and the lights flashed as they pulled away.
Chapter 4
GRANT RETURNEDto the basement of the furniture store as members of the team were collecting the items they found in the hiding hole with Cameron. They had been bagged and tagged, but he looked them over on a makeshift table someone had set up. They didn’t want to use the workbench because it might contain evidence. “I have no idea what all this means,” Red told him as they both looked down at the table.
