Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Amy leaned in, studying the images. “The church is the closest, most logical place for a tunnel to the mausoleum. Any farther, and you’re talking about a lot of digging.”
“But remember what Neil said about Shamas digging a tunnel from the castle to the forest—somewhere no one would suspect,” I said, flipping through Aunt Effie’s notes again. “Shamas wouldn’t have chosen the obvious route.”
Amy looked skeptical. “Still, the church makes the most sense.”
“Unless the tunnel already existed.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you getting at?”
“What if Ignatius—Shamas—had already started digging a tunnel for other reasons? Maybe he was worried he and Claire would be discovered at any moment and needed an escape plan. When Verbena died, he could have simply extended it to the mausoleum.”
Amy squinted at the aerial view, clearly mulling it over. “But the Willow Mansion is way too far for a tunnel.”
I shook my head. “He wouldn’t have picked somewhere obvious, but he would have picked somewhere he and Claire frequented.”
Amy looked puzzled.
I pressed my finger against the map. “The first place built in town… the Mercantile.”
Amy’s eyes widened just as my phone rang. I glanced down and saw it was my mom.
“I hate to bother you, Pepper,” she said, a bit frazzled. “But I need to get into the Mercantile to see if some papers I’m looking for are there. I realized my key doesn’t fit. Waters changed the lock when the old one broke. He promised he’d get copies made for the board, but he died before he got around to it, and we all forgot about it. Would you mind meeting me there so I can get in?”
“I’ll be right there, Mom.”
Hanging up, I grinned at Amy. “I know why someone was after those keys and we’re going to need rubber boots.”
Amy lifted a brow. “Why rubber boots?”
“Rats.”
“Did I interrupt some top-secret gardening mission? And why do you have that enormous flashlight?” my mom asked, eyeing my rubber boots the moment I climbed out of my truck.
“You’re wrong, Pepper. Rats can gnaw through rubber,” Amy said, glued to her phone as she hurried to my side, a massive flashlight tucked under her arm.
“Rats? Rubber boots? Flashlights?” My mom folded her arms. “What are you two up to?”
Amy didn’t waste a second diving into an explanation. “Pepper thinks there’s a secret tunnel entrance in the Mercantile that connects to the Willow Mausoleum.”
My mom frowned, glancing toward the cemetery in the distance. “That’s quite a stretch, but I suppose it’s possible.” She turned back to me. “What makes you think that?”
“The Jones guy being found in the basement—there’s no logical reason for him to be there,” I said. “I think he broke into the mausoleum, and just as he was searching, the vanishing guy appeared through a secret passage. They fought—that’s how some of the damage happened—then vanishing guy got knocked out. Jones, hearing Ian and I approaching, panicked. He grabbed an urn, maybe thinking it held the treasure, and escaped through the same passage he saw the vanishing guy enter. Meanwhile, vanishing guy came to after we left and slipped away through the tunnel, leaving us completely baffled.”
Amy nodded. “That does make sense.”
“It’s certainly plausible,” my mom agreed but then scrunched her brow. “But how did the vanishing guy know about the passage? And how did Jones get back into the Mercantile without Waters’ key?”
Amy tapped her chin. “And why even worry about a key? Why not just break in?”
“A break-in would’ve drawn too much attention,” I pointed out. “The police would be all over this place.”
“And the historical society would’ve probably boarded up the Mercantile,” my mom added. “There’s no budget for extra security, and frankly, the building has been neglected for far too long. There’s even been talk of selling it.”
Amy gasped. “You can’t! The Mercantile has so much potential—it could bring the history of Willow Lake to life and make money for the society.”
My mom smiled. “I’m so glad you joined the historical society, Amy. You’re going to be a real asset.”
“Okay, enough talk,” I said, eager to get started. “Let’s find that secret passageway.”
After we entered the Mercantile, my mom locked the door behind us.
“So, we won’t be disturbed,” she said before eyeing me knowingly. “You should probably let Ian and Beau know what you’re up to.”
“We texted them,” Amy said. “They’re in the middle of a shoot, probably with their phones off.”
“I should text your dad,” my mom said.
“Not yet, Mom,” I said quickly. If Stone really was an undercover agent, my dad would probably have to notify him, and then he’d take over. That wasn’t happening. “Let’s see what we find first.”
With flashlights blaring, we made our way down to the basement.
Amy shivered. “It’s creepier than I remember.”
Which was her way of saying, I regret everything, and I want out.