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Joe pulled the area rug off the wooden floor. “I don’t see anything that indicates a loose board. I guess we just pull it all up?”
“Maybe it’s under the bed,” I said. “If there’s something huge to hide, he’d probably have put it there.”
“Let’s check.”
We moved the bed, the sound of it sliding across the wood like fingernails on a chalkboard. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.
“I still don’t see anything that looks out of place,” I said.
“I guess we pull everything up, then,” Joe said. “Leave no stone unturned.”
I nodded, slipping the crowbar under a board.
Nothing.
Three hours of moving all the furniture out of the cabin and then prying up every board in the bedroom…
And nothing.
“Okay,” Joe said. “That was a dead end.”
“Why in our bedroom? Why not in his? We could have found that stuff at any time. Little boys are curious creatures.”
“We’re not thinking like your father,” Joe said.
“That’s a good thing, from where I’m standing.”
“I agree.”
“You’re right, though. My father hid in plain sight all those years. He hid behind his career as a lawyer and then mayor of Snow Creek. He was a pillar of the community, and no one suspected anything. He went out of town? There was always a reason.” I let out a sarcastic chuckle and shook my head. “We just played right into his game.”
“We did. Any logical person would assume he’d hide stuff in his bedroom. Maybe we’ve already uncovered everything there is.”
“Maybe,” I said, “but I doubt it. If he hides in plain sight, what’s more in plain sight than our bedroom?”
“The living area. The kitchen.”
“Right. No stone unturned.” I grabbed the tools and walked out of my father’s bedroom.
Joe followed me.
“Let’s finish our bedroom first,” I said. “We’re already halfway there.”
He nodded. We each took a side of the first bed, hoisted it up, and carried it out of the cabin.
“Looks like we’re setting up house out here,” Joe commented.
My father’s bed, nightstand, and dresser sat on the ground, as though waiting for some fairy folk to make it home.
I didn’t reply to Joe. I didn’t want to think about anything other than the task at hand. If I allowed my mind to wander—even to fairy folk, which I didn’t believe in, of course—I might think about all the horrible things we could uncover.
I didn’t need the help of imagination. The horror would make itself known soon enough. I could only hope it would be less evil than my mind was already assuming it would be.
Once all the furniture was hauled out, we tackled the remaining floor in the second bedroom. We uncovered some more of my mother’s jewels and more manila files. No more guns, at least not that we found.
More and more boards, until we were walking over joists. Nothing more…until—
“Got something,” Joe said, holding up a small wooden box.
