Patricia had thought this unit was impossible to trace because it was rented under a fake business name.

“Clear,” Marcus said.

He stepped inside and pulled a string hanging from the plywood ceiling.

A single bare bulb clicked on, throwing hard shadows over the boxes.

Rebecca opened her notebook and touched her chin with the spiral edge.

She told me to stay near the entrance and not touch anything until Marcus had checked the containers for safety.

Marcus pulled on thick black nitrile gloves.

He went to the first stack of brown boxes, sliced the clear packing tape with a utility knife, and opened the cardboard flaps.