Page 339 of Hidden Depths

“It was memorable.”

Even Nathan almost smiled.

Almost.

Then he looked back at the photograph.

“Where was this taken?”

Ward enlarged the image.

A concrete wall stood behind Mom.

Rust streaked down from exposed pipes.

One small window appeared near the upper corner.

The glass had been painted black.

A faded number had been stenciled on the wall.

Fourteen.

Ben leaned closer.

“Warehouse?”

“Possibly,” Ward said.

Nathan shook his head.

“Cold-storage room.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“The pipe behind her is part of an old ammonia refrigeration system.”

He pointed to a rusted metal plate.

“Keawe Cannery used the same equipment.”

Calle’s face changed.

“The abandoned cannery near the north shore?”

“It closed twenty-five years ago,” Nathan said.

“Grandpa used to take us fishing near there,” Hazel whispered.

“He stopped after Dad died,” I said.

Nathan nodded.

“Because the cannery sits above one of the old lava tunnels.”

Ward looked at him.