She steps into the bedroom at the end of the hall and looks to her left. “What is it?”
We follow her as she crosses the room to where the other officer is standing near the edge of the room. At first, I think she must be looking out the window, but then I realize she’s looking down. She brushes her foot against a floorboard, pressing the toe of her boot into it so the board wiggles. “I noticed this was loose.”
“This place is going to need some TLC,” I say, wondering why on earth a loose floorboard is relevant to their investigation. “The flooring is original, as far as I know.”
Without responding, the officer bends down, followed by the sheriff. She lifts her flashlight, which I’d hardly noticed she was holding. Then, before I realize what’s happening, the sheriff grabs hold of the floorboard and tugs. Four additional boards go with it, all at once, like it’s a…
“It’s a door,” Taylor says softly.
The officers don’t look up. They stare down into the space.
“What’s down there?” My stomach fills with ice-cold concrete as I hesitate to step forward.
Taylor moves around me to look, and I grab her arm on instinct, trying to stop her. Every hair on my arms stands on end. The air fills with the scent of mud and earth, something alive and dead all at once. It’s so thick I can taste it on my tongue.
“Did you know you had a cellar?” The sheriff looks back over her shoulder at me.
My throat is dry as I move forward, past Taylor, to hover near the officer. “No. Are you sure that’s what this is?”
“Looks like it.” She leans her head down into the darkness, shining the light around. Through a mass of cobwebs in the corner so thick it may as well be a blanket, I see a dirt floor below. The part above the stairs has been torn. She uses her boot to knock down the remainder of the cobwebs, clearing our line of vision. “Looks like there are a few boxes down there, some old canning jars.” She brushes cobweb strands from the toe of her boot. “If I were you, I’d figure out a way to put a lock on this door, too.”
My blood freezes in my veins. “You think someone came in through the floor?”
“I wouldn’t worry. The cobweb probably tore when we opened the door. I don’t see any other doors leading outside down there, and the space is small enough that I don’t think anyone could hide without you hearing them. But if I were you, I’d do it just to be safe. Get a little sliding lock or something to bolt it closed when you’re not using it.” She shivers, looking around. “When does your new lock for the front door get here?”
“It should be here sometime tomorrow. I’ll order one for this door, too. I’m sure I can figure something out.”
“If you run into town, check Randy’s Hardware. He’ll have what you need,” she tells me. “It’s on the square.” Her urgencyfor the lock worries me, and I can’t help thinking this must be exactly how someone got in, even if she won’t say it.
“Thanks.”
She nods. “As for the water, if there’s no other way in or out, I’m guessing you had someone come in through the window, like you mentioned. I’d make sure all the entrances are locked now. We may be a small town, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have our fair share of issues.” She pauses. “Though I can’t say I’ve really ever heard of trouble this far out of town. Family squabbles, that sort of thing, sure, but nothing like this. I’ll, uh…I’ll file a report and see what we can find out about the neighbor, but whatever’s going on, make sure everything’s locked up, at least until people figure out the cabin is occupied now. Should get you fixed up. Seems like a harmless prank, either way.” She glances at Taylor. “I realize that doesn’t fix your laptop, but it could be worse, you know?”
Taylor shoots me a look, like she can’t believe she just said that.
“Thank you, Sheriff Morris.” I hold out my hand to shake hers. “We’re sorry you had to drive out here.”
“It’s no trouble. We’ve got your number. If we learn anything interesting or concerning from your neighbor, I’ll give you a shout, okay?”
With that, Greta walks her to the door, and I stand there, staring down at the cellar door I never knew existed. What other secrets is Foxglove hiding?
CHAPTER NINE
CORINNE WILDE - PRESENT DAY
With the police officers gone, Greta comes to find me in my bedroom. Without a lock, I’ve piled several heavy boxes on the cellar door for now.
She folds her arms across her chest, studying me. “You really had no idea that was there?”
“No. We never came in her bedroom, really. And the few times we did, she had furniture all along the walls, plus that big rug that covered most of the room, remember? If Mom knew about it, she never mentioned it. I can ask her next time we talk.”
There must be something in my voice that hints at more than I’ve said because Greta turns her head toward me. “She’s still not speaking to you?”
“I mean, we’ve spoken a few times, but she’s short with me. She hates that I’ve let this happen, and she’s convinced I could fix it if I tried. She loves Lewis. Sometimes I think she loves him more than me.”
I try to make a joke of it, but we both know it’s not one. From the moment I brought Lewis home to meet Mom, she has been completely taken by him. She finds him charming, funny, and outright perfect. And I’ll admit, most days, so do I. But what isit they say? You don’t divorce the same person you married, or something like that.
The divorce brought out the nastiest sides of us both, and now it’s hard to see him or hear his name and not remember how we fought across that table, via our lawyers, for the scraps from our marriage. For the china cabinet and our record collection and every piece of furniture we bought together.
