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“Hey, I made your favourite sausage rolls with pickle and cheese,” Penny said as her hello. Shyly, giving Penny a small smile, I watched as Zoe pushed Henry to one side.
“Didn’t make you anything but got you chocolates,” Zoe added with a grin and pointed at Reid. “Boss man opened them and ate a few.”
Reid looked affronted at being outed. Jett snorted.
“The Vault needs you, Sin, which means you don’t have to stay upstairs,” Reid declared. “Those trunks arrived at the shop Friday, and I locked them in the Vault. Thought maybe you’d start cataloguing today. Everything you need is downstairs, and someone will constantly be with you.” Reid sent a sharp stare at Jett.
“Got me this morning and Silvie this afternoon,” Jett muttered. His hand gave me a slight push towards the stairs leading to the Vault. I soaked in the heat from Jett’s palm before cupping my coffee and walking away. Several new cameras dotted around the shop floor caught my attention, and I made a mental note to ask Reid.
“Guessed you’d want to read through the sales reports. You’ll be ecstatic and then make a start on those trunks and books this morning?” Reid said, following us down the stairs. Breathing deeply, I drew in the basement’s smell and smiled. The basement smelled like home, parchment, paper, and preservatives.
“Sure,” I replied, realising Jett and Reid waited for an answer.
“The Vault has CCTV, and remember, the door locks from the inside,” Reid stated. Unnecessarily reminding me of facts I knew, I gave Reid a glare; I wasn’t a child.
“Reid, I’m aware, and I did help design the Vault,” I chastised, and Reid grinned.
“Really need to get shit done, baby girl. Honestly, I think we’ve hit the mother lode with some of that stuff. Price it up and include our percentage. Sin, I promised Montague that we’d give him ten per cent. If we add that on top, it won’t cost us anything.”
Amused, I rolled my eyes at Reid and his business sense. I shooed Reid away and entered the Vault with Jett on my heels.
Jett looked around curiously, and I realised Reid must have missed out on showing him the Vault. The climate-controlled room was large and uncluttered, with the rear wall crammed with shelving. The right-hand side was full of glass cabinets holding the stuff required to preserve documents and restoratives. And the shelves held items such as gloves, Ziploc bags, two handheld vacuums, micro-fibre cloths and plastic sleeves, all needed to protect and clean fragile paperwork. The rest of the racks were crowded with the other paraphernalia used on our treasures. We had a double sink installed to wash hands and equipment.
The left-hand side was completely covered in a metal framework of clear drawers and containers. This is where we kept the pieces we were working on. Reid had taken up a tenth of the wall with items he’d worked on, as the drawers had labels slotted into the label inserts with his writing.
The door-side wall had three tall safes which secured valuable prints, documents, and letters. The centre of the Vault was dominated by two large worktables. Each held four book stands of various sizes and a pristine work surface. There were several high-backed stools and a couple of relaxing armchairs. Over those were basically hospital tables that mounted over a bed; in our case, they were draggable over chairs, enabling people to work comfortably if they wished.
“Guess I shouldn’t poke around,” Jett said, sinking his long body into an armchair. He tucked one leg under himself and cocked his head, waving a book in my direction.
“Don’t you got work, sweetness?” Jett asked and grinned.
Mock scowling at him, I made my way over and brushed my lips across his mouth. Jett’s hand shot out and held the back of my neck, where he deepened the kiss to such an extent that my toes curled, and my fingers clutched his tee. I blinked at Jett, bemused when he ended the kiss and smiled into my eyes.
“Get to work, Sin,” Jett muttered and looked down at his book. Well!
The crates containing the trunks were stored on the left side of the entrance, which we’d kept empty for that purpose, and I asked Jett to reach the top crate on the pile. I pried the lid open and washed my hands before asking Jett to lift the carton onto a rolling table. Jett pushed the table to the central worktable and returned to reading. Deftly, snapping on a pair of gloves, I started gathering the items I’d need to examine what was inside.
Finally set up, I peered into the crate and began lifting out documents and parchments one by one. Cautiously examining them individually, I placed each one carefully into a plastic sleeve, labelling and entering it onto the Vault’s laptop. Meticulously, I started creating piles on the adjourning table. I had to fight the temptation to read several of the papers. Jett’s eyes flicked to me every so often as I concentrated on making stacks of business and personal letters, pamphlets, and so on.
This took all morning as I conscientiously separated the paperwork and protected them until I could study them further. Once I’d finished, I put them into drawers and labelled the fronts. Reid dragged me upstairs for lunch, and after, I headed down again. Jett and I spent a scorching ten minutes saying goodbye and only stopped when Silvie came downstairs chirping enthusiastically. Silvie helped drag down a second crate that was decidedly heavier than the first. Silvie happily perched on a chair after pulling on gloves to hand me the tools I requested.
I enjoyed spending time with Silvie. She asked so many questions, and I found I didn’t mind once, as they weren’t stupid questions. She helped by handing me sleeves and labels. Silvie tracked them carefully on the laptop and then placed the items into the corresponding piles. Reid poked his head in and told me he was going across to Rage, and I waved Reid away. Reid laughed and disappeared.
At the bottom sat the reason it was so blasted heavy. A locked chest that was very old lay there wrapped in a sheet. It was the size of an old travelling trunk and took up half the space in the crate. With Silvie’s help, we carefully lifted it onto the rolling table and unwrapped the cloth. A solid wooden box appeared, ornately decorated with a solid brass lock and hinges. Carefully, I vacuumed the fine dust covering it, and my eyes widened as I stared in shock at the top.
My heart sped up, and my palms began to sweat. I blinked, but the plaque adjourned to the top of the chest didn’t disappear. Dampening my excitement, I ripped off my gloves and washed my hands before pulling on a fresh pair. I walked back, shaking, and stared again at the nameplate.
“Oh, my freaking hell,” I exclaimed, stunned. Silvie looked up.
“What is it?” Silvie asked.
“The Hellfire Club,” I whispered. Silvie blinked at the box.
“Huh?” Silvie said, yeah, that’s exactly how I was feeling.
“Read that out loud,” I demanded, unsure if my eyes were playing tricks on me.
“Says ‘The Order of the Knights of St Francis, 1752’. Underneath, it has, ‘Property of the Orders Secretary.’ Does that mean something?” Silvie asked, tilting her head.
