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She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, used the light on it to scan the cracks, hoping they’d reveal some kind of gap.
Come on, Audra, I’m counting on you to show me the way.
Theodosia searched high and low, ran her fingers along more cracks, pushed on walls, but to no avail.
Now what?
Theodosia decided that when in doubt, call in the cavalry. So she made her call.
Drayton answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Drayton, I’m locked in!” Theodosia shouted.
“I’m sorry, you’re locked out of your house?” He sounded relaxed. As if he’d just gotten home, kicked off his shoes, and fixed himself a gin rickey.
“No, I’m locked in.” Theodosia’s voice quavered as she fought to stem the rising tide of panic.
“In?” Drayton was confused. “In where?”
“I’m locked in the attic at Brittlebank Manor.”
“What on God’s green earth are you doing there?” Drayton shouted.
“Investigating?”
“Is that a question or an answer?”
“Please don’t try for humor at a time like this,” Theodosia said. “This is a serious situation.” She walked over to where two dirt-covered triangle-shaped windows filtered in a small amount of fading light.
“What do you want me to do? Call the fire department? Wait, do they do attic rescues?”
“I’m thinking you should…Wait a minute.” Theodosia cradled her cell phone in one hand, touched her other hand to one of the windows, and made a careful inspection. The window had a very large crack in it. Actually, it was a giant spiderweb-shaped crack, as if it had been smashed hard by someone’s angry fist. “Hold the line a minute, Drayton. I have an idea. I think maybe I can bash out a window up here.”
“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” Drayton asked.
“Technically it would be breaking and exiting,” Theodosia said. She glanced around and saw a three-foot-long hunk of wood, what might have once been a piece of banister, lying in one corner.
Drayton was still talking. “Breaking and exiting doesn’t strike me as a legitimate…” he said as Theodosia set down her phone and picked up the wood. She hefted it over one shoulder, testing its weight. Then, clenching the wood in her hands, holding it like a baseball bat, she walked over to the window. She lined up her angle and swung with all her might, like Aaron Judge hitting a line drive in Yankee Stadium.
An earsplitting CRASH rent the air. It echoed through the entire attic, sent shards of glass flying, and frightened Drayton half to death.
19
“Theodosia!” Drayton’s tinny-sounding voice echoed from the phone. “What happened? Theodosia? Are you quite okay?”
“I’m fine,” Theodosia said, putting the phone back to her ear. “I’m just…well, I guess you could call it being resourceful. I broke out a window.”
“You did not!”
“Now I’m about to climb out onto the roof.”
“Don’t,” he warned. “You’ll fall!”
Theodosia took the hunk of wood and poked it at the window ledge, clearing away all the broken glass. Then she hooked one leg through the window and stared down at a gentle slope of dark gray slate tiles.
“Actually, the roofline doesn’t look all that steep.”
“So what are you saying?” Drayton asked. “How on earth do you intend to get down from there?”
