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Widow’s Walk

Page 64

by Jeulia Hesse

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, leaning in just long enough that his voice brushed her ear. “Pretty sure I did.”

Amy shot him a warning look, though her cheeks gave her away. “Behave,” she said.

He didn’t.

During their walk-through, he managed to steal a kiss in nearly every room. In the restored dining hall, where sunlight stretched across the newly sanded floorboards, he caught her hand and pulled her close. His lips found hers for a quick, dizzying second before footsteps in the corridor sent them scattering apart like guilty teenagers.

Diego stuck his head in a moment later, a smudge of dust on his cheek. “Hey boss, when you get a minute, can you come check something out? I was making sure the rock wall downstairs was all set before we poured the floor in that dirt section. Looks like somebody hid something there.” Diego shifted his weight. “I didn’t want to touch it, you know—with all the things going on around here and all.” He shot a sideways look at Amy.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll come down—just finishing the tick list,” Sully replied.

Diego accepted that and stepped back into the hall.

“That was close,” she whispered, laughter hiding behind her voice.

“Worth it,” he whispered back, brushing drywall dust from her sleeve.

When they reached the upper hallway, Amy paused at the window, watching the sea glitter between the pines. Below, the crew loaded lumber from a truck, shouting to one another over the buzz of saws. A cement mixer rumbled up the drive to finish the basement floor.

Everything about it felt normal again—almost scandalously normal after the weeks of chaos, hauntings, and sleepless nights.

Sully’s arm slid around her waist from behind and rested his chin briefly on her shoulder. “You realize,” he said, “if we keep smiling like this, the guys are going to know something’s up.”

“Then you’d better stop smiling and go back to your usual frown.”

He kissed her neck, laughing. “Not possible.”

She tried to turn, still laughing softly, but the sound of boots on the stairs sent them springing apart again.

She smacked his arm lightly with her clipboard. “Professionalism, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Working on it,” he said. “You can grade me later.”

After another stolen kiss in the corner, Sully stepped back, breathless. “We’d better go check whatever Diego found. The cement truck charges by the hour.”

She nodded with mock sincerity, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. Sully took her hand and led her down from the top floor toward the basement. Just before they came into view of the crew, Amy slipped her hand softly from his gasp.

The low rumble of the cement mixer echoed through the mansion as Amy followed Sully down the steep wooden stairs into the basement. The cooler air hit immediately, damp and sharp with the scent of freshly turned earth and stone dust.

Diego and two of the crew were waiting near the far wall, where the dirt-floor section met the original foundation. They’d already cleared a good section of loose rock, and a pile of rubble sat neatly to one side.

“I didn’t touch it,” Diego said quickly as Sully stepped beside him. “It looked… old. Figured you’d want to be here before I started pulling anything.”

“Good call,” Sully said. He crouched, running his flashlight beam along the rock face. Between the stones, a small gap had formed—wide enough to show the edge of something wedged deep inside.

From where Amy stood, it looked almost like fabric, darkened with age and soil.

“What do you think it is?” she asked.

“Not sure,” he said. His voice grew muffled as he shifted closer. “Too square to be natural.”

He worked the smaller rocks loose one by one as to not collapse the rest of the wall. After a few minutes, the obstruction came free, tugged forward through a thick layer of dust and cobwebs.

“Got it,” he murmured, easing it out. In his hands was a bundled shape wrapped in what had once been canvas or heavy sailcloth. The fabric cracked faintly as he laid it across a clean plank. A single rusted clasp clung to one side.

Diego whistled low. “That’s been in there forever. At least a century, maybe more.”

Sully brushed dirt from his palms. “Let’s get this upstairs where it’s dry. We don’t want to tear it to pieces down here.”