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“Service entrance,” Kane says.

“The warehouse had to be inspected before the produce company closed,” Sage says. “There would be a way into the refrigerated area without opening the loading doors.”

I look at her.

“How do you know that?”

“I worked in a bakery. Health inspectors need access to every food-storage area.”

Taylor searches the building records.

“She’s right. That door opens into the refrigeration-control room.”

“Can we enter through it?”

“Old electronic lock. Power was disconnected six years ago.”

“Then it’s mechanical now.”

Kane looks at Holt.

“We can open it.”

Sage glances at me.

I don’t tell her she did well.

The slight lift of her chin says she already knows.

A light flashes on Taylor’s screen.

“New satellite image.”

The warehouse appears again.

The refrigerated truck is no longer backed against the loading dock.

It is turning toward the gate.

“He’s moving them,” Hayley says.

“How many people in the cab?” I ask.

“Two heat signatures.”

“The girls are in the back,” Sage says.

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do.”

I look at her.

“Why?”

“Because that’s how Navarro moved girls from the warehouse in Tennessee. Greg said they would be safer where no one could see them.”

Rage moves through me.