Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
They’d operated in a comfortable silence while refilling the tub and washing each other down. At least, it felt that way to Brynn. From the smile on his face, she assumed it was the same for Colby.
How she’d gotten to this place so easily and so fast, she wasn’t sure. Yes, it could be brought on by their isolation and proximity, but she liked to think she wouldn’t have sex with just any man she’d been locked up in an ice storm with.
Colby was different. And it made her feel different.
Both about him and about what she was here for. She still intended to find the photos, but where she would go from there didn’t seem so certain anymore. Maybe her drive would return when she found the hiding place. Somehow, though this idea of revenge had fueled her for the last year, she was okay with the uncertainty.
She’d cross the bridge when she got to it.
“How about some hot chocolate? I could heat some water up on the fire,” she said.
Colby smiled at her, but then got a faraway look in his eyes. “Too bad we don’t have some of the Christmas shortbread cookies I have at the house. That would be great with them.”
“Did you bake?” she asked as she filled a plastic pitcher from the cupboard at the sink. She wished she had more of the chocolate chip cookies she’d made herself.
She wasn’t gonna let him live that down.
That garnered a laugh. “Absolutely not. My mother forbid me from the kitchen at a young age—I was that bad with the stove. I usually stick to cans, sandwiches, or take-out. But my grandfather got me hooked on those dollar-a-box cookies they put out only around the holidays. Every store has their own brand, but I gather they’re all made from the same place. Just shortbread with sugar sprinkles shaped like wreaths or stockings or snowmen...”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve dunked that vanilla goodness into hot chocolate or coffee. Great way to gain ten pounds in December. I went last year and bought out the last of them on the day after Christmas so my grandfather could have them for a while longer...”
“That was sweet of you,” she said as she thought about those small things she also did to make her father’s last days more comfortable.
Colby winked. “Or selfish, since I ate them too.”
She laughed as she turned off the water and started across the kitchen. Only a few steps and the handle of the pitcher broke off with a crack , letting the rest tumble heavily to the floor. Brynn gasped as the plastic hit with a thud and water sloshed out onto the wood floors. “Oh no!”
The paper towels nearby didn’t go far against a full pitcher of water. Colby grabbed some kitchen towels out of the drawer, but the floor still had a puddle once they were soaked. “Let me go grab a bath towel.”
Great. With no electricity, she was gonna have to wait to wash all of these. Hopefully the cold would keep them from molding. She glanced around the kitchen for something else, but nothing was at hand. As she waited for Colby to return, she took a deep breath.
And heard water.
She glanced up at the sink, but it was off. Oh no, had a pipe burst? She opened the cabinets under the sink, but that made the noise sound farther away. Closing them again, she turned back to the kitchen at large. The sudden splashing sound had slowed to a steady drip, but louder, as if the water was falling from some distance. She leaned toward the kitchen island. Did the house have a crawl space?
That could be it, but the island didn’t have a sink or any pipes in it. As Colby came back in the room, she glanced down. Water had puddled up against the edge of the island. Leaking to...under the house?
“Here we go,” Colby said, throwing a couple of towels onto the ground before crouching down. “This should do the trick.”
Brynn continued to stare, transfixed, as the water seeped underneath the island. An idea took shape in her mind.
“Hey, you all right?” Colby asked.
Slowly she dragged her gaze up to his. “Colby?”
He frowned for a moment, then looked down. He leaned closer.
Brynn whispered, “Do you hear it?”
He glanced around at the kitchen, as if mapping it in his mind, then back at the island. “Yeah, I hear it.”
After a moment more of study, he crossed over the wet puddle to the end of the island. “Watch out.”
Firmly grasping each corner, Colby pulled, first one way then the other. Brynn watched with a frown. Could this be what her father meant? Was the hiding place under the house? Most crawl spaces were big enough to hold small boxes and few people would think to look there.
Just as she said, “Maybe you have to go in from the outside?” there was a deep crack . She looked for an opening, but saw nothing on the island.
“Look,” Colby said, pointing to the corner on the floor.
The wood trim had shifted, leaving a dried, crumbly shadow of old food and dust from who knew how many years. Maybe...
Their eyes met and held. This had to be it.
Without saying a word, Colby moved over beside her and placed both hands firmly on the edge of the island. Brynn placed hers next to his, leaning forward to bend her elbows. Together they drew in deep breaths and pushed.
The first inch was pure resistance, then suddenly the island swung freely away from them. Brynn stumbled, but Colby’s arm reached out to grab her before she could fall. Her breath shuddered from her as she stared down into a dark hole.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
This didn’t look like any crawl space she’d ever seen.
The entire outline of the island seemed to have been held in place with years’ worth of kitchen debris. “Do you think Maria ever opened this?” Brynn asked.
Colby continued to stare. “I don’t think so. Maybe she didn’t even know it was here.”
A shiver worked its way down Brynn’s spine, drawing Colby’s attention. He dropped his hand to squeeze hers. “Let me get the flashlight. Hopefully the batteries will last a little longer.”
He was back in seconds. Flipping on the light, he shone it down into the hole. Well, not really a hole...
A stairwell.
Brynn bent forward just a bit to get a good look at what seemed to be solid stairs leading down into the darkness. “A cellar, maybe?”
Colby drew in a deep breath. “I hope so. But why wouldn’t Maria have known about a cellar? After all, she lived on the farm and probably canned food every year.” He glanced over at the good-sized pantry door on the far side of the kitchen. Then he shook his head. “I’ll go down first.”
On instinct, Brynn grabbed his arm. “What if it isn’t safe?”
His tight expression softened a touch, telling her that her fear must show on her own face. “I’ll be careful. Let me just test the stairs before you try it, okay?”
She nodded, for once happy to let someone else take the lead. In all the months she’d imagined finding her father’s evidence, it had never occurred to her that she’d have to climb down into a deep, dark pit to get to it.
Probably should have, though.
Colby kept one hand firmly on the ledge while he tested each stair in turn. The flashlight illuminated each one. Boy she was glad she’d sprung for the heavy-duty version.
He had to duck his head as he took the last few, until all she could see was his outline against the light in front of him. “Okay, I think the stairs are safe. But if you thought the attic had a lot of dust...”
Great. Maybe she wasn’t as cut out to be Indiana Jones as she’d hoped. If there were lots of spiders, she might just leave Colby to it. No, she couldn’t do that to her dad, but she’d certainly be tempted.
About halfway down the stairs she heard Colby breathe, “Wow,” causing her to pause.
“What is it?”
“Definitely not what I expected.” He turned the flashlight back to her to illuminate the stairs that the upstairs candlelight couldn’t reach. As she stepped onto an old stone-bed floor, he laid his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s stay close so we can see a little easier. Plus, I don’t want you wandering off.”
Without moving, he slowly scanned the beam of light across the room around them. The walls appeared to also be stone with some kind of dirt packed between them. One far corner had water dripping down the wall, with dark stains indicating it had been leaking for a while.
As he moved the circle of light to the left, Brynn gasped. It took her a moment to realize that the eyes she was seeing were in a deer head mounted to the wall. Huge, intricate antlers reach high to meet the low ceiling.
Another deer head was farther along that wall.
“What’s that?” she asked, curling her freezing fingertips into fists in an attempt to warm them.
Between them was something low and long. “Wait just a minute,” Colby said as she started to move. “Let’s make sure its safe first.”
She knew he was right but impatience was starting to shake her out of her shock. Still, she let him scan the rest of the room, finding a few floor candelabras decorated with antlers and some old pews stacked in one corner.
“So, the furniture makes sense. Probably left over from the old church?” he said. “Though I know hunting trophies are common here in the South, I’ve never seen any in a church.”
“Maybe someone else added them?” Brynn said, though the thought made her uneasy. Why would someone hang those in an abandoned basement? What would they even mean anyway? It wasn’t like this was some kind of hang out—though she guessed maybe Maria’s kids could have found it as teenagers and used it for a secret space for things kids didn’t want their parents to know about?
Maybe that accounted for the uneasy feelings and increasing breathlessness she was feeling.
“This is...odd,” Colby said, his voice also seeming unsteady.
“What is it?”
They slowly approached the pieces between the two deer heads. “This is maybe a lectern?” he said. “Isn’t that what those things are called at the front of the church?”
“Yes, or a podium, though this is very old-school.” The wood was heavy and dark. A simplistic style with a tall base and slanted top where the preacher could set his Bible and notes during his sermon.
“But this is more like an altar?”
As the light swept slowly over the waist-high table with matching wood bottom and marble top, Brynn choked. Near the far end was a distinct red stain in a wide pool and splatter pattern. “Is that blood?” she whispered.
“I—I don’t know,” Colby admitted.
He stepped up onto the raised area that wasn’t quite tall enough to be a true stage. Brynn stayed to the side as he explored behind the furniture, watching the light sweep back and forth as she fought back nausea.
What had her father actually seen?
Suddenly Colby paused behind the podium, the light shining underneath it. After a moment he raised his gaze to hers.
“I think we found it.”