“Sorry, what?”
He sighed. “Thinking about your little chat with Barry?”
No. But yes, he’d tracked down Barry, asked him about the report. “He said pretty much what you told me. He thinks he’s onto something about Dad’s crash. Barrow Fuel was handling all the fuel shipments back then.”
“You think Pete Barrow tainted the fuel?”
“I don’t know.” He stared at the boiler. “Harley and I are going to talk to him later.”
The pilot light wavered, drawing Jericho’s attention.
The flame flickered violently.
“Hudson.” Jericho straightened. “When’s the last time you checked the gas line for contamination?”
“Fuel line’s clean,” Hudson said. “First thing we checked.”
The flame danced again, and this time Jericho tracked its movement. Not random—there was a pattern to it, like something was pulling ... He followed the direction of the disturbance, past the neat rows of pipes, to the corner, where a heavy black door stood.
A warning sign read “Authorized Personnel Only. Danger: Unstable Structure Beyond This Point.”
“I remember this door. It leads to the old mine shaft under the mountain,” Jericho said.
“Yeah, we upgraded the door. The old one rusted out. We resealed it when we renovated.” Hudson crossed to join him. “Dad used to talk about using the old mining tunnel for wine storage someday.”
The pilot light sputtered again.
“It’s the seal,” Jericho said. “Something’s creating a wind effect.” He ran his fingers along the doorframe, feeling the faint rush of air. “We need to see what’s behind her.”
Hudson hesitated. “Lock’s industrial grade. We’d need—”
Jericho was already moving to the tool shelf. He returned with a pry bar and a hammer. “Your call, brother.”
For a moment, Hudson stood silent. “Seems like every time I turn around, I’m ripping apart something I thought I did right.”
Jericho frowned at him.
Hudson held up his hand. “Do it.”
Jericho wedged the pry bar into the lock. It gave way with a crack that echoed off the stone walls.
He eased the door open. Beyond it, darkness stretched like ink, carrying the metallic tang of earth and memory. The light from the boiler room caught the rotting support beams, the rough-hewn walls, the downward slope that disappeared into shadow.
And from it, a breath of cold air washed over them.
“I think there’s an opening somewhere in this mine.”
“Dad always said this place had secrets.” Hudson’s voice was quiet. “Guess we just found one.”
“Well,” Jericho said softly, “now we know what’s killing your pilot light.” He shut the door. “You need better sealant on this.”
“I’ll get my guys on it tomorrow.” They secured the door, however, and he nailed a board in front of it to keep anyone from opening it. Jericho checked the boiler. The flame held steady.
“My invoice will be in the mail.” Jericho grinned at his brother.
Hudson shook his head.
They headed upstairs, into the great room of the twenty-room lodge.
