Her heart raced as she peeked inside and saw stone steps going down. She’d been wondering if there was a basement below the house but hadn’t found any evidence of one in her paperwork. Grabbing her phone, she turned on her torch and pushed the bookcase back farther, wedging the ladder between it and the wall so it wouldn’t fall back into the lock. She carefully went down the narrow, damp staircase, which led to a large, open space. Feeling up the walls in search of a light switch, she found one and narrowed her eyes as the bright light almost blinded her.
It looked like a file room, and it smelled of damp paper and moldy carpet. Filing cabinets and boxes were lined up in long rows on the right side of the basement, and on the left side were wine racks with hundreds of bottles. There was a desk with a lamp and some stationery, and other furniture was piled up in the far section. She saw cabinets, chairs, an old sofa, a handful of bedframes, and antique lamps and vases, surrounded by more boxes.
Riley ran her hand over a cabinet and brushed off a thick layer of dust. It was still in good condition, even after what might have been decades in a basement. She picked up a heavy vase and put it on top to examine it. It was made of porcelain with a beautiful, intricate Chinese-style floral pattern. What was all this stuff doing down here? Some of it looked valuable—she suspected the storage units alone would be worth quite some money—and there was so much of it scattered around as if it had been placed here in a rush.
Crossing the basement to the section with the wines, she brushed off more dust and studied the labels. They were old, but some would have improved over time, like the Bordeaux, the Cabernet Sauvignon, and the vintage port. There were whiskeys, too, and a couple of clear bottles she thought might be home brew. Even if the previous owners had considered the furniture clutter, it made no sense for them to leave a whole wine collection behind, and Riley wondered if they’d even known this basement was here. She’d only found out by coincidence, after all.
The lights flickered off and back on for a beat, and Riley froze to the spot. She’d been so fascinated by what she’d found she’d almost forgotten she was generally terrified when it came to Aster House. She put the bottle back on the rack, then grabbed one of the boxes before she rushed upstairs. Her heart was still thumping hard in her throat when she reached the daylight-flooded living room, where she put the box on the coffee table and held her chest as she half collapsed onto the couch.
Riley felt like she’d jumped time. The bookcase was a portal to the past, perfectly preserved over decades. She’d left it open in case it fell back into the lock, hoping she’d be brave enough to explore further at some point. For now, she focused on the box in front of her. It was made of hard leather, like a high-end hatbox but square instead of round. Inside were beautiful baby memorabilia: a little white dress, an embroidered baby blanket, a silver rattle, and a silver photo frame with a color photograph that looked like it dated from the eighties of a woman holding an adorable baby. There was also a children’s bible, an embroidered bib, a stuffed teddy bear, a jeweler’s case holding a tiny silver bracelet, and finally, a small leather case that held a silver spoon.
This baby had been born into money, Riley thought. She’d had quite the opposite childhood herself; her parents could barely afford to buy her a stuffed animal when she was younger. It was the very reason she’d always worked so hard, to prove that she could make something out of herself, even though all the odds were against her. She took the spoon out of the case and smiled as she read the inscription engraved on the handle.
Quinn, 01-08-1985.
26
QUINN
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Quinn stepped inside Aster House only twenty minutes after Riley had messaged her. She was a sucker for a beautiful woman, and it was worrying how fast she’d made her way over here. Riley’s hair was messier than usual, and she had dust stains on her jeans and shirt.
“Thanks for coming. I want to show you something.” Riley seemed elated as she beckoned Quinn to follow her into the office, then gestured to the old bookcase that had come away from the wall. “Did you know there was a basement?”
Quinn approached the bookshelf and was mesmerized to see a staircase behind it. “No, I didn’t.” She glanced down the steps and turned to Riley. “I honestly had no idea.”
“Then you should take a look. There’s a lot of stuff down there, and it belongs to your family. I only opened one box. When I saw it contained your baby stuff, I thought it would be best to leave the rest to you.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.” She gestured to the box on the floor. “Take a look. I didn’t want to open more, as it felt private.”
Quinn frowned as she rooted through the delicate garments and toys. “Mom wondered where all of this had gone. My parents used to store their stuff here, and she assumed it had been taken away by the bailiffs.”
“There’s more,” Riley said. “A lot more.” She handed her a flashlight. “Take this. The light bulbs are old and need replacing.”
Quinn felt sick with nerves as she went down. How could she not have known there was a basement? And why was the entrance hidden behind a bookcase? The answer soon became clear when she saw the vast variety of furniture and other treasures from her childhood. She recognized the dining chairs, the art-deco console, and marble tiger statue that used to be in the hallway. There was the collection of Chinese vases that once graced the living room and her old bed among other furniture, all buried under a layer of dust. They’d been hidden here all those years ago so they couldn’t be sold off. Unable to get an untraceable storage unit, she supposed her grandfather didn’t have much choice but to store it underneath the house to save it from being auctioned off. Did her grandmother know? And if she did, why had she never told anyone? Had they planned to come back for their belongings? Maybe they’d hoped they could buy the house back one day, and this was a desperate attempt to hold on to any valuables still left.
Overwhelmed with questions and emotions, she pointed the flashlight over the rows of files and boxes containing her family’s legacy. Everything that had been dear to them, all their memories, were still here. Everything was marked and dated, she noticed as she studied them, but the furniture was randomly placed, which made her think that moving it down here had been a last-minute job. The big, round table with eight chairs next to the file cabinets was a mystery; she’d never seen those before, and they had no place here as it looked like somewhere meetings had taken place. By now, she knew her grandfather had never been an open book, but this was a whole new level of secrecy, and that table intrigued her more than anything else.
“It must be a lot to take in.” Riley’s voice was sweet and soft as she came down behind her and stroked her back. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m just shocked. I thought it was gone—we all did.”
Riley wrapped her arm around her waist, and Quinn inched closer. It was comforting, and they stood there for a while, simply staring at the new space Riley had discovered.
“I’m surprised no one found the entrance before me.”
“Apparently, no one bothered to rip out the carpet or take off the wallpaper. Most of it was original when you moved in.” Quinn smiled as she turned to Riley. “Lucky for me, some flashy New Yorker decided the interior wasn’t good enough for her.”
“I never thought you’d thank me for stripping walls.” Riley chuckled. “You should take your time with this. I’ll give you a key so you can let yourself in when it suits you.”
“Thank you, but you don’t need to do that, and technically, all of this is yours, as is anything else found on your property. I’d like to have the pictures, though, and some other personal items.”
“No. This belongs to your family. I know a thing or two about wine, and that collection has to be worth a fortune, but the memorabilia are priceless.” Riley lowered her voice to a whisper as if she was worried she’d wake something. “It’s here for a reason. It was here foryouto find.”
Quinn nodded. Perhaps it was here because her grandfather had hopedshe’dbe able to buy the house back one day. And yes, it was here for her to find, but she’d failed him. Instead, the new owner of Aster House had found it; the fifth owner since the estate was taken from her family, and she had no place to store any of it. She was grateful, though, to have it back or to even lay her eyes on all the old memories that warmed her heart.
Keeping her thoughts to herself, she let out a deep sigh. “I don’t even know where to start.”
