Josie followed Vivian halfway around the long concourse and then through a set of metal doors with a sign above that said “STEPS.” Banging through the doors, Josie stopped to listen for Vivian’s footsteps. They sounded as though they were coming from beneath her. Josie leaned over the railing and saw a flash of red pass one of the landings on the stairs leading down to the basement. She took the steps two at a time until she reached the lowest level. Bursting through those stairwell doors, she blinked to adjust to the dull light. The concourse in the basement was dank, gray, and unpainted concrete. They hadn’t bothered to do any renovations in this area. Clearly it wasn’t open to the public.
Josie turned from side to side, trying to figure out where Vivian had gone. In each direction was a series of closed doors. It was as though she had simply vanished, which meant that she had likely taken refuge behind one of the doors. Josie chose a direction and went that way, jogging from one door to the next. She threw each door open and used the flashlight on her cell phone to pan the rooms while her fingers searched the wall for light switches. Most of the rooms were empty. Some were closet-sized, and others were large. One was an empty team locker room with smaller rooms inside of it and cubby holes where the players had kept their equipment. There were a couple of old hockey sticks and pairs of ice skates still left in the cubbies. Josie felt the seconds ticking away as she checked every inch of it. There was nothing but dust and the faintly fetid smell of old sports equipment.
Back in the long concourse hallway, Josie kept checking rooms. It was clear that no one used this level of the building. Was this where Gabriel and Vivian had been holding Amber? Had they held Eden here before her death? As Josie pushed open another door to a room that held only cobwebs, she realized it was the perfect place to keep someone. As long as the Tolands kept this level mostly off-limits to the construction crews, a person could easily be held in one of the many rooms with no one the wiser. Even if someone screamed from behind one of the doors, it was unlikely anyone would hear them—certainly not from any other part of the building.
The next set of doors led to another stairwell. Had Vivian simply escaped upstairs? “Shit,” Josie muttered. In spite of the cooler temperature down here—at least ten to fifteen degrees colder than the first floor—sweat beaded along Josie’s brow. She had to make a decision. Go back upstairs to see if Vivian had moved to one of the upper levels, or continue checking the doors here? Vivian could still be on this level, hiding. Amber might even be here. The rest of Josie’s team was upstairs, and she was certain the chief would have called for backup by now. If Vivian had made it back to the first floor, there was a chance someone on Denton PD would catch her in the chaos. Even if they didn’t, how far would she get in a blizzard in her stockinged feet?
Josie thought about the injuries that Eden had sustained before her death. How she had still been alive when she was marched out to the dam. What if Amber was down here right now? What if she was still alive? Injured but clinging to life?
Josie kept moving, checking each room methodically but as quickly as she could with her phone’s flashlight on, hoping she didn’t drain her battery too quickly. She came to the second locker room. It was identical to the first one. There was the large team room with all the cubby holes for players to keep their stuff. Here, too, some ice skates were left behind and one goaltender’s stick, as well as a helmet. All of them were draped in cobwebs. Beyond that was a small room with a window that looked out into the team area. This had probably been the coach’s office. On the other side of that was a larger room. Over the door, a sign said “PHYSICAL THERAPY.” The inside of it held nothing. Then there was the supply closet.
It was locked.
In fact, someone had installed a shiny new heavy-duty stainless-steel hasp to the metal door that joined the doorframe to the door. From it hung a heavy metal padlock.
“Amber,” Josie said.
She used her phone’s flashlight to find the locker room light switches. One by one, she flipped them on. Only about half of them worked, but it was enough. Josie pounded against the locked door.
“Amber!” she called. “Amber! Are you in there? Answer if you can hear me! Amber!”
She froze and listened. It was difficult to tell because the sound was so muffled, but she was positive she had heard something behind the door. She pressed her ear against the door, but the sound wasn’t much clearer. Still, it was something. It had to be Amber. Please, she prayed silently. Let it be Amber. She pounded against the door again, using both fists, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Amber! It’s Josie. Please answer me! Please!”
From behind the door came a howl that was most definitely human. And desperate.
Josie dropped to her knees and put her mouth as close to the slit where the door met the floor as she possibly could. “Amber?” she called.
Rustling came from the other side. Then Amber’s voice responded, hoarse and filled with terror. “Help me! Help me! Get me out. He’s holding me here. Please, let me out. You have to let me out before he comes back. Please!”
Josie’s heart stopped so long, she could count the seconds where the beats should be. For a moment, her voice was stuck in her throat.
“Josie?” Amber screeched. “Can you hear me?”
Her heart thundered to life, pulse kicking up so hard, her entire body felt like a heartbeat. “Yes!” Josie choked out. “I hear you! I’m here!”
“Josie! Josie! Help me! Get me out! Get me out!”
Josie stood up and looked around for anything she could use to get the door open. She ran back out to the team room and grabbed the old goalie stick. As she returned, the door rattled again. Amber screamed, “Please! It’s pitch-black in here. I’m freezing. I’m hurt. I just need—please, get me out.” She dissolved into tears, sobbing loudly, shredding Josie’s heart. A thousand images from her own childhood flashed through Josie’s head. The abuse, the neglect, all the times she’d been locked in the dark closet. Shuddering, Josie took a deep breath to calm herself. “Amber,” she said clearly and firmly. “I will get you out. Just hang on.”
Josie hacked at the padlock with the goalie stick again and again until her arms and shoulders ached. Sweat poured down her face. Finally, the stick splintered.
“Josie?” Amber squeaked from the other side of the door.
Josie tossed the stick aside and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “I’m still here. Just give me a second.”
She ran back to the team room and searched through the cubbies until she found the pair of skates. Back in front of the closet door, Josie grimaced as she slid her hand into the skate, hoping there were no spiders or other critters inside. With one hand on the inside and one on the outside to steady the skate, Josie brought the blade down on the curved part of the padlock. It took several tries before the padlock cracked open. Josie threw the skate aside and wrestled the padlock out of the hasp.