Page 38 of Criminology of a Character

“It wouldn’t be that easy.” Griffin crouched beside a discarded tractor tire. He studied it for a moment and then shoved it, but to the trio’s dismay, it slid begrudgingly across the floor.

“All right, this is just a tire, but you get my point,” he continued. “The entrance won’t be easily stumbled upon.”

“It might even be trick floorboards.” Bel stomped her foot, praying the echo would prove the space below her was hollow.“But to play devil’s advocate, could that stolen electricity have been used to power something the killer removed before we found the barn?”

“I considered that, but look at the floor,” Griffin said. “If something was here, it would’ve left scratches or caused a decolorization where it blocked sunlight from the floorboards. Nothing here has been moved in years.”

“So I’m marching around for no reason.” Bel smirked as she stomped on another floorboard, and while the floor remained unaffected, a hook hanging from the wall shifted ever so slightly. She studied it, wondering if it was merely a loose nail. The barn was old. Loose nails probably studded the building, but she moved closer before slamming her foot down again. The hook vibrated, and with hope flooding her chest, Bel captured it in her fist and pulled.

With a rush of air, floorboards at the rear of the barn popped open, and Griffin cursed. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of the hidden entrance, but he stumbled backward, throwing Bel a wide-eyed glare once he regained his footing.

“Oh my god,” Olivia whispered as all three officers withdrew their weapons and flicked off their safeties, but as Bel reached the raised floorboards, Griffin caught her elbow.

“I’ll go.” His tone warned her not to argue.

“Yes, sir.” She retreated, and when the trio was in place, he pulled the trapdoor open.

Bel held her breath, but after a tense moment, nothing jumped out of the dark opening. Only stillness greeted them, and taking that as his cue, Griffin ventured down the wooden steps.

“Clear,” his voice echoed in the darkness, and a second later, a light flared to life. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, but the dimly lit room wasn’t what they’d expected.

“That’s it?” Olivia asked as the detectives started down the stairs. “A tiny dirt cellar.”

“Not exactly,” Griffin said, pointing as the women joined him. Their gazes followed his fingers, and Bel wasn’t sure if it was her voice or Olivia’s that gasped at the sight of the chained door before them.

“Whoever killed Walker really didn’t want anyone finding this.” Bel stepped forward and placed her palm on the door, only to recoil in surprise. “It’s cold.” She threw her boss a look. “A cannabis farm wouldn’t be cold.”

“What is going on here…?” Griffin rested his hand beside hers. “Officer Rollo?” he called over the radio. “Do you still have those bolt cutters?”

A minute later, the deputy jogged down the stairs and severed the heavy chains. Bel reached for the handle as the handsome officer retreated, but Griffin stopped her.

“I’ll go first,” he ordered yet again. “Watch my back.”

She nodded, readying her firearm, and he pulled the door wide.

A blast of frigid air collided with their faces, and Bel flinched at the harshness, her eyes stinging at the temperature. “That almost hurts.” She rubbed her face to ease the sting.

“I don’t like this.” Griffin aimed his flashlight at the awaiting abyss.

“It’s too cold for anyone to be hiding in there,” Bel said, the need to see what the darkness hid overpowering her wariness. Something inside this frozen room was worth killing for, and it wasn’t a cannabis farm.

“Stay close,” Griffin ordered. “Gold and Rollo, keep the door open.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison, and he and Bel stepped into the cold.

“It’s a walk-in freezer,” Bel said, her breath forming delicate clouds before her mouth. “Why is there a walk-in freezer in the middle of nowhere?”

Griffin’s flashlight swept over her, and she saw the same confusion plastered on his face. He didn’t answer, but how could he? This discovery was the last thing they’d expected.

“I wonder if there’s a light in—uff.” Bel tripped as her boot collided with something solid.

“You okay?” Griffin grabbed her biceps, his strength keeping her from falling on her face.

“There’s something on the ground.” She aimed her flashlight at the floor, pain radiating through her toes from the impact, and when the narrow tunnel of light hit the object in her path, her heart froze as icy as the air.

“Griffin,” she whispered, her voice small like a child calling for her father. “It’s a girl.”

“What?” Her boss yanked her protectively against his chest, but there was no danger in this freezer. Not for Bel, at least. For the kneeling girl, though? It had been a death sentence.

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