Chapter 53
We all look at each other.
‘Well?’
Davey sighs. ‘The trap door to the tunnel is inside.’
‘Great.’
‘There’s a bookcase, and this whole other room is hidden behind it.’
‘Even better. So, we’re just going in there?’
Davey takes a deep breath. ‘I’ll go first,’ he says. ‘You two follow. Any sign of trouble, I’ll deal with it. You two get down through the trap door.’
‘Okay.’
It’s not okay. None of this is fucking okay. I’m not brave or heroic. I’m a fucking teacher. The biggest risk I took before I punched that little shit’s father in the face was teaching kids outside without asking if they’d put on sunscreen.
I can feel my heart thudding, adrenaline making my limbs weak. We approach the cabin cautiously. Davey leads, I follow, Sadie brings up the rear. Davey pushes the door open. It creaks, just like I knew it would.
Inside, the cabin looks empty. It also looks just as I expected. Dark and dusty, sagging sofas, cobwebs draped over lamps. There’s a battered dining table, and a bookcase along the far wall, which has been slid open to reveal a secret entrance.
‘Whoah,’ Sadie whispers. ‘This is like … a movie set.’
She’s right. None of it feels real. Not the dust. Not the cobwebs. Nothing.
‘What do you think?’ I say to Davey.
‘The entrance to the tunnel is through that bookcase.’
‘Right.’
We approach it carefully.
‘Maybe you should stay back here,’ I say to Sadie. ‘We’ll make sure it’s safe.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ she says firmly.
I don’t have the energy to argue. I nod, and then we step through.
This room is large and comfortable: armchairs, sofa, a fireplace, a door leading to what I presume is a bedroom. At one end is a large desk and a leather chair. It immediately feels more lived in than the facade next door.
But maybe that’s because it is.
Someone is sitting at the desk.
As we enter, she turns.
‘Well, hello.’
It’s a woman, dressed in a long pinafore, plain blouse, cardigan and sensible heels. She looks to be somewhere in her late thirties. Heavy glasses. Hair in two pigtails. Half of her face is a shiny mass of scar tissue. She smiles, or rather, one side of her face does.
‘I would say this is a lovely surprise, but I confess, I had a little heads up you might be coming.’
‘You?’ Davey stutters.
Sadie’s eyes widen. ‘Freya?’
I turn. ‘You know her?’
Sadie nods. ‘She’s … she’s the town librarian.’
The woman nods. ‘Well, yes and no. I do a little more than that.’
We all stare at Freya. I have a knot in my stomach. A sick feeling.
‘We haven’t got time for this shit,’ Davey says. ‘We need to go. She can’t stop us.’
Freya raises one eyebrow. ‘Ah, yes, the tunnel.’ She glances at a rug covering the floor. ‘I’m sorry, but that isn’t going to happen.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, firstly, because there are people at the other end sealing it off, and I would hate to see you buried alive.’
I swallow. ‘And the second reason?’
She reaches into her cardigan pocket and produces a small gun. Two guns in one day. Welcome to America, I think.
She pushes her glasses up her nose. ‘I don’t really like guns,’ she says, as if reading my mind. ‘Horrible things. But needs must. Now, why don’t you all sit down? We’re still waiting for someone.’
I look at Sadie and Davey. I can tell he’s wondering if he could rush Freya before she fires off a shot. I give a small shake of my head. He gets the message and shuffles, reluctantly, to an armchair. Sadie and I take the other seats.
‘There,’ Freya says. ‘Now that’s better. And just in time.’
We all look up as another figure walks in: a woman, dressed in jeans, a hoodie and hiking boots. I’d like to say I’m shocked, but all I feel is a dull resignation.
‘Well, I see you all got here before me.’
The woman pushes her hood back. I stare at Lorraine Hegarty.
I should have realized earlier. LH. Not Lockhart. Of course. Because those aren’t his initials. His initials are GL. Columbo would be turning in his grave.
I shake my head. ‘And this is why I don’t date.’
‘Dan.’ Lorraine smiles apologetically. ‘I’m truly sorry about the deception. But it was all just to make you feel at home here.’
‘By impersonating my dead wife?’
‘By giving you reasons to stay.’
Sadie gapes at Lorraine. ‘This is your date. Wow, Dad. Your taste in women really sucks.’
Lorraine glances at Sadie. ‘And your daughter, Sadie. What a feisty young lady.’
The two glare at each other.
‘Lori,’ I say. ‘Honestly, I don’t care what’s going on here. I just want to take my daughter away. We’re not right for Serenity. We’re not a good fit. So, you carry on doing whatever it is you’re doing. We’ll leave and get on with our lives. No harm done.’
I know it’s cowardice. But like I said, I’m not brave. The only thing I care about right now is getting us out of here alive.
Lorraine turns to Davey. ‘And is that what you want?’
Davey shakes his head. ‘I just want to find out what happened to my mom.’
Lorraine nods. ‘She’s dead. So there, now you know.’
Despite everything, I see Davey sag.
‘Bitch,’ Sadie mutters.
I squeeze her hand. Not now, Sadie. Not now.
‘Please, Lori,’ I try again. ‘Just let us leave. I mean, this is crazy, right?’ I sound desperate, and I don’t care.
Lorraine perches on the edge of the desk. ‘You must have realized by now, Dan – you’re important to us.’
‘To the Conservators?’
‘No, to us. Your family.’
‘Family?’ I look between the two women. My head is throbbing again.
‘I know you saw that photo on my fridge. The one of me and Uncle Harry.’
‘I don’t understand what that’s got to do with—’
‘And Freya here, she’s your half-sister.’
Freya smiles and waves.
Lorraine sighs. ‘Do I have to spell it out to you, Dan? Harold Winsom was your father.’