Page 81 of Charon's Crossing


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Kathryn swallowed dryly. "A man," she said, after a moment.

"What man? What did he look like?"

Her eyes met Hiram's. He wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he was looking at her with such intensity that a sense of foreboding swept over her.

"Well, he was tall. In his thirties, I'd guess."

"Was he white?"

"Yes."

Hiram's face was expressionless. "Anythin' else? Anythin' about him that was special, I mean?"

Oh yeah, Kathryn thought, yeah, there was something special about her visitor, all right. He dressed like a character in a late-night movie, he sounded like one, too, and sometimes when you looked at him, you could see right through him.

"Kathryn?"

Kathryn cleared her throat. "No," she said, "no, nothing special."

Hiram stared at her for a long moment and then he nodded.

"I'll do what I can to make you feel more secure here," he said. "You just tell me what you want done."

"Well, for starters, I'd like you to fix the shutters. Some of them won't stay closed."

"I can take care of that."

"Good."

"What else needs doin'?"

"I want the door locks changed."

"No problem."

"Be sure you change the one on the attic door, too." Hiram looked at her but if he thought the request strange, it didn't show on his face. "The lock that's on it now is old," she said, "and difficult to work."

He nodded. "Sure."

Kathryn hesitated. "There's one last thing."

"Yes?"

"I know it sounds weird, but... do you think there might be secret passages in the house?"

The look on the old man's face said that she'd gone too far.

"Secret passages?"

"Look, I admit I don't know much about Charon's Crossing. Or about this island, for that matter. But I do know that it wasn't uncommon for mansions of this period to have hidden doors and passages built into them. You can't tell me you never heard of such things!"

Hiram shrugged. "I've heard of them, I s'pose. But never with regard to Charon's Crossin'."

"Well, it won't hurt to check, will it?"

"No, I suppose not. I'm just not sure what you want me to do."

"Dammit," Kathryn snapped, "how should I know? You're the contractor, not me. Do whatever people do to find hollow places in the walls. Knock on them. Feel around the fireplace. Poke in the back of the closet..." She forced herself to smile. "Humor me, Hiram. Please?"

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