Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
FORD
It didn’t take long for the four of us to move the vehicles out of the garage and park them in the courtyard in front of the Manor.
By the time we had that sorted, Billy Bob’s truck was coming down the drive, escorted by Eli and Wren in their truck, both vehicles peeling off from the main drive to take the side lane around to the garage.
“Now y’all got problems in the garage? Where in this house don’t you have things falling apart?” Billy of Billy Bob asked.
Bob just grinned at us and hefted the jackhammer out of the back of their truck.
I led them to the garage bay at the far end. “Here,” I said, walking in a slow circle, realizing as I did that there was the faintest depression in the concrete, hairline cracks making a loose, wide oval in front of the space where a vehicle would park.
The garage was deep and wide, considering it took up most of the wing of the house. The spot was directly below the hall between my room and Paige’s room.
“This is where we dig,” I said. “Look.” I stood between Billy and Bob, pointing at the area in question, about the size of a compact car. “Can you get this concrete up so we can get to the gravel or whatever’s underneath?”
“Sure. Gonna take a minute, but we can get it up.”
“Thanks.” I patted Bob on the back as I walked away.
“Y’all back up, in case this spits concrete out. Don’t want anybody to get cut,” Billy said, looking at Hope.
“All right,” she agreed. “We’ll stay by the door.”
We moved back about twenty feet. Eli and Wren hovered near the open garage doors, their eyes mainly on Billy Bob, occasionally scanning their surroundings.
I noticed they worked seamlessly: Eli watching Billy and Bob, while Wren scanned the driveway, the side yard, and the woods.
Then her gaze went to the men with the jackhammer, and Eli scanned their surroundings.
Despite their security clearance, they didn’t trust Billy Bob and that jackhammer, but it looked like they didn’t trust much of anything else either.
Billy Bob worked methodically, breaking down the concrete and shoveling it out, trading off the jackhammer and the shovel until most of the space was cleared and chunks of concrete were piled on the side of the garage.
“I hope there’s actually something under there,” Griffen said. “Otherwise, we just made a big fucking mess for no reason.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I kind of hope we just made a big fucking mess for no reason.”
Hope let out a sigh. The door behind us opened, and Paige stepped through, the baby monitor clasped in her hand.
“She took forever to fall asleep, but she’s out,” Paige said, holding up the monitor to show the screen—and a peacefully sleeping Stella. “They got that concrete up pretty fast.”
“They did,” Hope agreed. “I think it wasn’t in great shape.
We probably would have started having issues with it soon.
Aunt Ophelia’s car is usually parked on this side of the garage because she doesn’t drive much and she’s traveling so often.
It made sense to put her here, but I don’t think she’s been examining the floor when she moves the car, and I can’t remember the last time I looked at the floor on this side of the garage,” she said.
“Me either,” Griffen agreed. “Never even thought about it.”
“All right, boss,” Billy said. “Concrete’s up. You want us to grab another shovel and go after this gravel?”
Griffen looked to me, and I shook my head. “Nah, we got it.”
“You want us to leave the jackhammer?”
Griffen thought for a second. “We’ll give a call if we need you back. Thanks, guys, for coming so quickly.”
“Anytime,” Bob said, and they left with a wave, Eli and Wren following them out silently.
“Okay. Well,” Hawk said, holding up the shovels he’d found in the corner of the garage near the bin full of sports equipment, “here you go. I’ll keep watch.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.
“We can help,” Hope said.
“No,” Griffen countered. “We only have two shovels. You two can supervise if you want to stay.”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to leave?” Paige asked, her pale blue eyes leveled on mine.
I stopped and faced her. It was time for me to say what I needed to say, to make it as right as I could.
“No. I was stupid before, and I’m sorry.
This whole situation has me all fucked up.
I saw you injured, bleeding, and I lost it.
I should never have told you to stay away from me.
I don’t want you to leave. And even if I did, I think you need to stay for this. ”
Paige bit her lower lip, her eyes suddenly filling. “You think?”
She’d obviously had the same thought I had, which meant we were in the same boat, whether we liked it or not.
I touched a fingertip to her bottom lip. “Let’s wait and see what’s under there first, okay?”
A tear crested over her lower lashes and rolled down her cheek.
I brushed it off with the side of my thumb, pressing a kiss on the salty trail. “Don’t cry. Not yet. Not till we know.”
I didn’t know what was under the concrete, but I could guess what Prentice would have wanted to hide enough that he’d buried it under layers of concrete and gravel. Still, I hoped I was wrong.
She nodded, and I stepped back. “I love you,” I said quietly, the words just for her. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I love you, too.” A faint smile curved her lips. “Now go dig up the floor.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and turned to take the shovel Griffen handed me.
What followed was more digging than I’d done in a while—shovelfuls of gravel, the noise of it abrasive and deafening.
It took longer than I would have guessed to get through it all.
Griffen and I worked in dogged silence, side by side.
Griffen’s face was set in grim lines. I expected mine looked the same.
Hope and Paige watched from the back of the garage, while Hawk took Eli and Wren’s former position by the doors, watching us as he scanned the field and woods on the side of the Manor.
Sweat ran down my temples, but I didn’t take off my jacket, not wanting to scare Paige with the bulletproof vest. It was probably overkill, but I knew Hawk would send me back inside if I tried to take it off.
He didn’t mind using me as bait, but he wasn’t going to let me die on his watch.
Since I had every intention of staying alive, I left the jacket on and dealt with the heat, shoveling until my back ached and my arms burned.
I was knee-deep in the hole when my shovel scraped against wood. A few more shovelfuls and we’d bared a section of plywood.
“What’s the plywood for?” I heard Hope ask as we cleared our way to its edge, then along the border to discover there was almost a full sheet of it, at least four feet by eight feet, discolored by age and crumbling at the edges. We had the gravel scraped away in minutes.
“Probably to stabilize the surface under the gravel,” Hawk answered, leaving his place at the garage door to reach down and grab our shovels. When our hands were free, Griffen and I took positions at two corners on the long side of the sheet of plywood.
“You ready?” I asked, looking at my older brother.
“No,” he said, his eyes somber, “but I think we’d better see what’s under here.”
I nodded and leaned down, hooking my fingers under the edge. “Three, two, one, lift.”
It was awkward, angling the plywood up and tipping it back, edging our way along the sides of the hole to lean it upright. My view of the hole was blocked by the plywood when I heard Hope and Paige gasp behind me and Hawk’s low, “Well, fuck.”
Griffen and I shoved the plywood up and out of the hole and turned to see what we’d uncovered.
Beneath the plywood was, as Bailey Toms had described, a lumpy mass of concrete, clearly hastily poured.
Over the last thirty years, that concrete had crumbled in places, settling into a shape that appeared to be—
I shook my head, wishing I could see something else beneath the rough blanket of concrete.
“It looks like…” Hope said, her voice fading out.
“Bodies,” Hawk finished for her, his voice flat. “Two. There’s an edge of fabric over in the corner there, coming through where the concrete is uneven.”
Griffen said nothing, swallowing hard, his eyes on mine. He eased closer, kneeling down in the spot Hawk had pointed to, reaching out with a fingertip to touch the triangle of fabric poking through the concrete. Faded cotton, the faintest pattern of flowers in pink.
Although everything fell into sharp focus, all I could think was that it didn’t smell.
The bodies didn’t smell. They’d been there too long, and the air had circulated.
Although we couldn’t see any bones, I imagined that was all we’d find beneath the concrete, aside from the clothing.
I looked up to see Paige, her eyes fixed on that scrap of fabric, hollowed with anguish.
We’d had an idea of what we might find, but the reality of it was something else.
Our eyes met, the pain in hers a twin to my own.
Hawk’s phone beeped. He lifted it up, listened, and said, “Escort them to the garage.” Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he looked to us. “This may clear things up.”
Griffen straightened, stepping out of the hole. I joined him, circling around to stand next to Paige. I reached for her hand, needing the anchor. Needing her.
“I think we’d better call West—” I started.
I heard Edgar before I saw him. “You’re not calling Weston—”
“Edgar, what are you doing here?” Hope asked.
“I was trying to stop you,” he said gruffly, shaking his head as his eyes fell on the hole in the concrete.
Harvey came around the corner, followed by Eli, Wren, and Ryder.
Harvey walked to the edge of the pit in the garage floor, his face sheet-white, shaking his head back and forth.
Ryder raised an eyebrow at Hawk and Griffen, who lifted their chins in response.
Ryder nodded, tapped Wren on the shoulder, and the two of them left, Eli staying behind.
It seemed clear to me that while we might be comfortable with Edgar and Harvey, our new security team didn’t trust them as far as they could throw them.
“Edgar,” Griffen began, “I appreciate your loyalty to my father and the past, but I think we all know what this looks like. We have to call West.”
“You can’t,” Edgar said.
“Prentice is dead,” I reminded him, “but we’re still here. It looks like we have two bodies buried—”
Edgar cut me off. “You don’t know what you have—”
“Well, then tell us,” Paige said, her words clipped, “since you seem to know.”
“They have a right to the truth,” Harvey said, his voice shattered, eyes locked on the concrete in the bottom of the hole.
“They don’t have the right to anything.” Edgar turned to glare at Harvey, his jaw set in a familiar stubborn line. “We don’t need to get into this. It’s ancient history. They should fill it back in with all this gravel and cover it up. You don’t know what you’re doing, Harvey.”
“I do,” Harvey said, his eyes blazing as he turned to Edgar. “I fucking well do, and I’m tired of keeping his secrets.”
“Harvey, you can’t,” Edgar said, reaching for his arm.
Harvey batted him away. “It’s over, Edgar. It’s time. You can go if you need to. I’m telling them the truth.”
“Truth is a child’s concept,” Edgar said, impatient. “And this is nothing but melodrama. Just let it go. We’ll get the floor fixed up and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
Hope turned icy eyes on her uncle. “Shut. Up,” she snapped out. “We’re moving on, all of us. We’re not living like that anymore. Your secrets and lies, Prentice’s manipulations—it’s over, do you understand?” She turned to Harvey. “Tell us— What don’t we know?”