by Lynn Patrick
“...maybe I should run a security check on that person,” he finished for her.
“Right. So what do we do now?”
She looked up to meet his gaze, and he realized how close they were. Nearly kissing close. Oh, so tempting. Though nerves suddenly filled him with warmth, he didn’t move. Neither did she.
Getting a grip on himself, he cleared his throat. “I hadn’t decided what I was going to do until I saw the remains of your shovel, actually. But the fact that someone could break away that much cement with a tool that isn’t even meant to do the job tells me that I can do better.”
“So you’re going to try to break through?”
“First, I want to go inside to see if we can find the easy way in. I’m pretty sure there is some kind of secret room between this tunnel and whatever room it leads to. And the entry to the master suite seems the likely place.”
“Then what?” she asked.
“I’ll report it to Ben Phillips, see what he wants me to do. In the meantime, I don’t want anyone in the house other than Cora to know what we’re doing. The intruder might not be working alone. He might have a connection to someone working in the house. I would rather catch him and turn him in to the police.”
“If he comes back. He did get the candelabra.”
“My guess is that’s what he settled for. At the moment. But I would bet he’s looking for the fabled treasure. Plenty of places can be robbed more easily than Flanagan Manor. And the intruder was searching the tunnels for entries into the house. Come on, let’s see if we can find a way into the hidden room through the master suite.”
He started down the stairs with Heather following.
* * *
HEATHER WAS GLAD they’d soon be out of the tunnels. They were creepy and scary. Not that she regretted following Rick and insisting on staying. She only hoped Taylor hadn’t found her way down here or her daughter would be having some bad dreams. She had yet to get any further information from the little girl about her hiding place the other evening.
“Let’s leave the utility lights here with the other tools,” Rick said when they reached the concealed door that led to the conservatory steps, “or someone who sees us might wonder what we’re doing inside with construction tools.”
“I thought you said the door to the house was locked.”
“But I have the keys.”
Once inside the conservatory a few minutes later, Rick pulled out his phone, called Cora and asked her to meet them at the door. As soon as they were inside the mansion, Heather saw the housekeeper coming toward them. They met her in the library, an impressively large room facing the lake.
Appearing concerned at seeing that Rick wasn’t alone, Cora asked, “Is there a problem?”
“We need to get upstairs. Heather has had some trouble with equipment being broken by our intruder. She’s giving me backup. There may be something our intruder wants that’s in a hidden area between the tunnels and one of these rooms. I want to see if we can find an entrance to a secret room from the master suite.”
Cora was still giving Heather a sideways look.
“I think it’s terrible that you don’t feel safe,” Heather said in a soft voice, hoping to put the housekeeper at ease. “Rick is going to figure out what’s going on, and I’m going to help him.”
Cora seemed to relax a little. “What do you need me to do?”
“Keep everyone occupied so no one sees us,” Rick said.
“That should be easy enough. The maids are gone for the day. It’s just about dinner time, so that will keep both staff and guests busy for a while. Probably an hour, give or take.”
“Are the guests downstairs?” he asked.
“Already getting seated at the tables,” Cora confirmed.
“Good, you go first then, and make sure that no one is around the rotunda or staircase.”
Cora nodded and went to do just that. When she poked her head back into the library and gave them the signal, they followed.
At the bottom of the staircase, Rick placed a hand in the small of Heather’s back and gave her a little push to urge her upward. Her pulse fluttered. She assumed he wasn’t saying anything lest he alert someone nearby to his presence. Two thirds of the way up, she glanced back to see Cora waving them faster. Having also noted the signal, Rick caught up to her and placed his palm on her back again to hurry her. Heather’s pulse threaded unevenly and she nearly tripped. Rick caught her just in time so that she didn’t lose her footing. She couldn’t breathe for a moment until he let her go.
“Oh, Gina, surely you’re not done with dinner yet,” she heard Cora say.
“No, Kelly asked me to find you,” came a throaty voice. “Apparently, she has a problem in the kitchen. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I was just getting something from my room...”
From the way their voices faded, Heather realized the housekeeper had led the other woman away from the stairs. Still, she was glad to be out of sight.
“We’re good,” Rick whispered, passing her. “C’mon.”
Heather followed him into a long drawing room, the size of the library and the entryway downstairs combined. Facing the lake, the room had doors that led onto a balcony. And in the middle of the outside wall was a fireplace with an elaborate carved wooden mantel that looked original to the mansion. The walls were split with wainscoting on the bottom half, like some of the other rooms in the mansion and coach house. The upper halves were loaded with wooden trim, too. She imagined the room looked much as it had a century ago when it was built. The furniture, however, was eclectic with modern couches and chairs with antique wooden tables and storage units.
Rick pulled out the blueprints and set them on one of the tables. “The entry must be on this wall.” He indicated the interior wall opposite the lakeside doors and balcony and pointed to the doorway in the middle. “Probably between here and the outside wall.”
Because she worked with the equivalent of blueprints for landscaping, Heather easily matched the document with the space. “What’s on the other side?”
“A very large dressing room with the bedroom beyond it. It looks like there might be some space behind the back wall of the dressing room but not enough that anyone would notice unless they were looking for it.”
Taking out his laser tool, Rick opened the door and then the one to the dressing room. Heather followed and watched as he took measurements.
“Just as I thought. This space is smaller than it appears on the blueprint. Much smaller, actually.”
A thrill shot through Heather. “So the tunnel leads inside this wall?”
“Right. Now all we have to do is find the entry.”
“Which could be from this room or from the dressing room.”
“You’re sharp. You’d make a good investigator.”
Heather smiled. “The twins give me a lot of practice. I’m always having to figure out what they’re up to or how they’ve disappeared on me when I only turned my back for a moment.”
“My mother used to tell me she had eyes in the back of her head so she always knew what I was up to. She said all mothers had them.”
They laughed together, a nice sound that warmed her inside. She’d never had such easy rapport with any man other than her late husband.
Splitting up, with her in the dressing room and him in the drawing room, they began searching for the secret doorway. The dressing room wall was divided between shelving and double racks of clothing. No matter how many surfaces or crevices or trim Heather pressed, nothing so much as budged.
“No luck, huh?” Rick asked a few minutes later.
She turned to find him in the doorway, his expression equally discouraged. “Not a clue,” she said. “What now?”
“Now I go back into the tunnel and see if I can bre
ak through from that side. I brought along a sledgehammer and pry bar. They’re with my tools downstairs. I’m hoping no one wanders this way, but just in case, I’m going to ask you to stay up here and keep watch.”
A frisson of discomfort shot through her. “And do what?”
“Distract anyone who might wander up to this floor. I’ll be making noise. Who knows how loud? Just try to keep them away from here.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” He gave her a slow smile that warmed her to her toes. “Hopefully, I’ll get through fast and see you in a little while.”
After he left, Heather walked over to the balcony doors and looked out over the lake. A few sailboats dotted the horizon. The sun was setting in the west behind her, drizzling the water with streaks of red and pink. It would be dusk soon.
She took a big breath and tried to chase away the squirrelly feeling in her middle. She wasn’t built for subterfuge. Being alone in the mansion made her nerves jitter. And when she heard a voice drifting up the staircase, she tried not to panic.
Tiptoeing to the doorway, she peered out to see that one of the employees—Gina, the bossy one—was coming up the stairs, a cell phone glued to her ear. Heather could hear snatches of what she was saying.
“No, not right now...later tonight.”
Gina came into view, and Heather backed out of sight.
“I’m telling you it’s too early. It’s still light out.” Her tone changed to vulnerable. “I thought you cared about me...”
Was she talking to a man? Heather wondered. A boyfriend, probably. Not wanting to hear the other woman’s personal conversation, she grew even more uncomfortable.
“The sun hasn’t even set yet,” Gina went on. “Later would be better. You know I’m right.”
Heather peeked around the doorway. Gina stood frozen at the top of the stairs.
“Oh, baby, I knew you’d come through for me...”
Gina suddenly pulled the phone from her ear and glared at it. “Cell phones!” she said, disgust ripe in her voice.
Apparently the call had been dropped, Heather thought, glad when Gina turned around and quickly headed back downstairs.
Relieved Gina hadn’t seen her lurking so close by, Heather started when a sound from the interior wall got her attention. Pounding. Soft pounding, but audible nevertheless. Thank goodness, Gina was already gone. Now if only Rick would hurry! Moving in the direction of the sound, Heather followed it out of the drawing room into the dressing room, where it was even louder. She placed her hands on the wall, and the next strike sent a vibration down to her toes, making her jump back.
“You’re so close,” she muttered.
“Who’s close?”
Heather whipped around to face a boy of eight or so.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, looking from her to the wall.
Pulse pounding, Heather waited for the next whomp, but thankfully, there was silence.
“Looking for something,” she said. Turning out the light, she left the dressing room, pushing the boy before her. “And you don’t belong in these rooms. These are the private family rooms.”
“You own this place?” He stopped dead in the doorway to the drawing room.
Heather waited anxiously to hear the slam of the sledgehammer again.
“I work here,” she said.
Which was true. At least for the moment.
To her relief, Cora raced into the room. “Ah, there you are, Mason. You must be lost. Your room is on the other side of the staircase.”
“I’m not lost,” he protested, his expression belligerent.
“Well, you can’t be in here. Come on.” Cora waved him in her direction. “Your parents are looking for you.”
The kid went reluctantly.
And as they left the room, Cora glanced over her shoulder and shot a look of exasperation at Heather, who sagged against the doorway with relief.
Just as a muffled crunching noise came from the dressing room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TRYING TO IGNORE the unsettled feeling that was jangling his nerves, Rick worked the pry bar behind the concrete slab until another chunk gave and dropped to the ground behind the sheet of heavy-duty plastic that would protect him from being hit by flying rubble or choking on a cloud of dust.
He hooked the pry bar behind what was left of the cement seal, then used the sledge to make a few good cracks. Within minutes, it was done. He ripped down the plastic and faced the original doorway that led from the tunnel into the house.
Though he breathed a little easier, he looked around, down the stairway and beyond. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Only he couldn’t see or hear anything unusual. He had no clue why his sixth sense had gone on alert the moment he’d re-entered the tunnel alone. Claustrophobia was getting to him again.
He grabbed the door handle and gave it a twist. The door easily opened and he stepped inside.
The utility lantern illuminated the narrow interior room, which was furnished. He took in the desk and shelves on one side, the cabinetry on the other. Every surface was thick with dust, and a spider had been busy creating one of the biggest webs he’d ever seen across the back wall.
“So where’s the door to the dressing room?” he muttered, just before he spotted the lever at waist level.
Not knowing if Heather was still by herself, Rick decided not to take any chances. He pulled out his cell and called her.
A few seconds later, she answered. “Rick, where are you?” She sounded anxious.
“Everything okay? Are you alone?”
“I am now.”
“I’m in.” He opened the door to find her standing in the dressing room, looking straight at the wall of shelving that swung open. “So I was right about the interior room.”
Her eyes were wide as they met his. “But did you find Flanagan’s treasure?”
“I haven’t looked yet. C’mon.”
Rick waved Heather in, then closed the door behind them. He didn’t want anyone stumbling on them and discovering what he was doing. The room felt too tight for him. Too narrow, prompting a memory of being trapped, distracting him from his purpose.
Telling himself to calm down and get back on track, he flashed the utility light along the wall and found a light switch. That an overhead light and a lamp on the desk both went on when he flipped it surprised Rick.
“Wow,” Heather said
“It works, but my guess is the wiring needs to be replaced.”
Then her gaze lit on the huge spider web. “Eww.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.” He stepped into the tunnel and pulled a clean pair of gloves from his sack—he hadn’t removed his. “Here, put these on.” Then he picked up the pry bar and pulled down the spider web. “You look through the desk and I’ll take the cabinetry. Let’s see whether or not there’s anything worth finding.”
Heather pulled on the gloves and slid open the center drawer. “Empty.”
After clearing the spider web out of the way, Rick flipped open a cabinet door. “Empty here, too.” He went on to the next one. “When I asked you about being alone, you said, I am now. Did someone see you?”
“One of the guests. A kid. He wanted to know what I was doing.”
Rick glanced back as Heather opened a bottom drawer. “What did you say?”
She turned to face him. “Just that I was looking for something and that I worked here. Then Cora arrived, thankfully, and took him away.”
“No harm done, then.”
“No. Thankfully Gina didn’t see me.” Before he could ask, she explained. “She was on her cell, arguing with someone about tonight. Sounded like her boyfriend was trying to get her to see him now and she wante
d him to wait until later.”
Something to keep in mind. Opening the last drawer—empty—Rick said, “Looks like the Feds cleaned the place out before they sealed it. Makes sense, I guess.”
“But they never found the supposed treasure.”
“Or they never admitted to it.” Rick thought about the complexity of the tunnels and entries he’d found so far. “I wonder how much more there is to Flanagan’s underground world.”
“You mean a room even a government crew didn’t find?” Heather mused.
“Could be.” He sighed. “Well, I’m disappointed but not surprised. And we’ve done enough for one night. Let’s get out of here. Through the tunnel. Let me call Cora first to give her the all clear.”
Heather nodded and slipped off the gloves.
Rick got Cora on the first ring. The housekeeper jumped on the call as if she’d been waiting to hear from him.
“Is there a problem?” she whispered.
“No. We’re done for the day. I just wanted to let you know we were leaving so you could relax.”
He updated her, told her they would leave through the tunnel and slid his phone back in his pocket.
Heather had already put her gloves and his pry bar back in the tool bag. He threw his own gloves in and slung the bag over his shoulder. About to head down the stairs, he froze. Again, he sensed something out of place. Had he heard a noise without its really registering?
“What’s wrong?” Heather asked, keeping her voice low. Still, he picked up the slight catch that said she was nervous.
“I don’t know. Something’s off. Maybe me.”
His awareness doubled, he made his way down, one slow step at a time with Heather so close behind him that he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. Reaching the bottom, he stood there for a moment. Frozen. Silent. Heather followed suit.
Nothing.
No sound. No movement.
So why did he sense they weren’t alone?
“This is creepy,” she whispered.
He flashed his utility lantern all around to make sure nothing was lurking in the shadows. “Let’s get out of here.”