Page 54 of Unspoken Love

Had he somehow dreamed of Karnia? There was a grainy image of the couple that Max had found hanging in the lighthouse. He thought he had a picture of it, but he couldn’t find it in his emails or his text messages.

He supposed it could have been Karnia. Was she trying to tell him where the diamond was?

He itched to go back to the house. To look at the wall. Was there another secret tunnel behind it?

Then he heard a car out front and switched off his laptop and got to work. The entire day, the thought of discovering another tunnel that might lead to the missing diamond replayed in his head.

During lunch, he decided he couldn’t wait any longer and headed back up to the lighthouse. Besides, he needed to check on the horses.

Nate parked his truck beside the lighthouse and stepped out slowly, his boots crunching against the gravel. He stood there for a moment, staring at the tall windows, the upper floors of the house, then beyond to the white tower that rose above it all.

The dream had started as just a feeling. But now?

Now it felt like a whisper echoing across time. He decided to take care of the horses after he looked, so he stepped inside and immediately made his way toward the staircase. The house was still and very quiet as he stopped at the base of the stairs. He could almost see her clearly standing there when he shut his eyes. Then, he turned his attention to the wall where she had pointed in his dream.

“My heart.”

He moved toward the wall, which held a painting of stormy seas with a small yellow sailboat. No doubt one of Allison Jordan’s works. Slowly and cautiously, he ran his fingers along the delicate wooden paneling. He felt silly at first, like a kid playing pirate. But then—he felt a slightly raised section of the molding and he froze.

It was just like the button in the library. He pressed it and heard something click behind the wall. A gentle movement of old mechanics whispered behind the solid wood.

When the wall slid backwards, he held his breath.

Beyond lay a narrow gap tall enough to step through, just wide enough for one person at a time. He stared into it, heart hammering in his chest. Is this how Faye had felt when she’d discovered the passage in her closet?

Cool air rushed over his face, causing his hair to move. There was a tingle down his spine, and he smelled the scent of damp stone and salt water.

“Well, damn,” he muttered under his breath. “This house really does have more secrets.” He smiled.

The space beyond the entrance was pitch-black, even in midday, but the pull was magnetic.

He grabbed his phone and clicked on the flashlight, the beam cutting a wide tunnel through the shadows ahead. Beyond the first few feet, stone walls stretched along a passage not unlike the one that Faye had shown him before. But this one was slightly different. It seemed older. Untouched for far longer. There were tons of cobwebs blocking the pathway.

As he stepped through the opening, the air changed. It became denser. Heavier.

The moment both feet were inside, the door behind him closed, causing him to jump slightly.

He turned in time to watch the gap narrow, the wall sealing with a deep thud, leaving nothing but solid wall in its place.

Nate stood in the dark, only his own breathing and the faint drip of water echoing through the corridor.

He turned slowly back to face the tunnel.

After a moment of debate with himself, he took a step forward.

Chapter Seventeen

Faye waited around after locking the doors to Brew-Ha-Ha so that no other customers could come inside. The rain had started nearly an hour before closing time, and the storm that followed had rolled in fast and heavy, hammering against the windows and sending the late customers rushing out with umbrellas held high.

Now, thankfully, the shop was quiet for what seemed like the first time that day. She loved the lingering smell of espresso as it mixed with the fresh scent of rain-soaked pavement.

She glanced at her phone—no new messages. With a small sigh, she texted Nate:

“You okay? Still picking me up?”

She slipped the phone into her back pocket and grabbed the broom, figuring that she might as well sweep while she waited for him. It wasn’t like him to be late—especially not without a call. By the time she finished tidying, she was considering calling him when she finally saw headlights through the foggy glass.

A second later, Nate’s truck pulled into the lot.