Spooky

The wooden floor boards creak under my weight as I cross over them and I keep peering over my shoulder expecting to find a ghost. I want to get the hell out of here so I waste no time pulling open the drawers to the desk, only to find generic office supplies.

I pull open the bottom left drawer and find a stack of white envelopes. I pull one out and it looks like the same kind of envelope that the checks were in. I stash another one in my purse just to compare but I'm pretty sure it's just a normal standard-size letter envelope.

I continue on down the drawers and gasp when I find a few empty manila folders with Historical Society stickers on the front. I flip the folders open just to make sure there isn't anything unusual about them but they look just like brand new folders. I drop the walkie-talkie on the desk as I quickly rifle through the other side of the drawers. I find more office supplies and some blank manila folders but nothing else.

I drop my hands to my hips as I survey the room, if I was trying to hide something where would I stash it? I decide to check out the large bookcase that sits next to the desk.

I shift some of the books around and say, "How is there no writing paper in this office?" Very loudly, as if I were frustrated in case there is some sort of security watching my every move. After nothing turns up, I stare at the bookcase and wonder if this is one of those fancy bookcases that swing out and lead to another secret room! The house is over a hundred years old, so hidden passageways or blocked-off rooms wouldn't be that outlandish.

I push on the bookcase and nothing happens, damn. I then go check to see if the bookshelf sits flush against the wall. I find where the bookcase meets the wall and run my hand along the wallpapered wall. I'm about to remove my hand from behind the bookcase when Ryan comes over the walkie-talkie.

"Find what you need?"

His voice startles me and in shock, I instinctively yank my hand out from behind the bookcase with such force I nearly knock myself backward. As I take a step backward, my back hits the tall lamp behind me and goes flying sideways. I turn around to try and catch it, but it hits the wall behind the desk and knocks the gold-framed picture sideways. The light is now shining directly onto the crooked portrait, casting an eerie shadow onto the painted confederate soldier's face. I'm officially creeped out and want to get the hell out of here.

I shake my jitters off as I walk over to the heavy lamp and as I go to pull it upright, I catch something behind the frame as it falls back into place. I let go of the lamp and take a few steps toward the portrait. I grab the walkie-talkie and quietly say, "I may have just found something."

I stretch out both arms and place a hand on each side of the heavy gold frame. I pull the frame up and off the nail it's hung on and my eyes go wide. Behind the frame is a small black wall safe. It has a sleek keypad on the front of it but I have no idea how to go about opening it. I decide that if there is security watching me, I better not touch the safe. I do not need my fingerprints all over it.

I grab the heavy frame and heave it back onto the nail. I spin back to the desk, grab the walkie-talkie and my purse before blazing out of the room. I make sure to flip all the light switches off in the house before practically sprinting back to the front door. I lock the house up and dash down the stairs into Ryan's truck. He looks to me as I haul myself into the passenger seat and I shut the door. I look to him and say, "There's a wall safe and Historical Society folders upstairs in the office."

He looks to me but before he can say anything, I continue, "I don't ever want to be in that house at night when I'm alone again. Now let's go discuss this elsewhere. That house gave me the creeps."

He nods and then turns to drive back down the hill. When he gets back onto the road that leads to town he asks, "Beer?"

I glance to him.

"Wine. Let's go to Tansey's."

He nods in agreement and takes a left towards town.

*****

After we get settled into a booth at Tansey's, we each order a large alcoholic beverage and some fries to start. I glance around me to make sure I don't spot anyone from the Historical Society and when I don't, I look to Ryan.

"Did I find anything valuable?"

He sighs as he shakes his head.

"It's hard to say. New folders with the Historical Society logo on it mean someone must have been doing some kind of business there. But a wall safe could mean anything."

The waitress drops my red wine in front of me and after she saunters off, I look to Ryan and say, "It's an older house. But that safe was new. It was all fancy with a keypad and sat nicely under an old portrait."

"But it might just hold valuable things that belong to the house. Old heirlooms, the deed maybe. It doesn't mean that the Historical Society would use it to stash accounting documents."

I roll my eyes.

"Ryan that would be the perfect place to stash the documents! Who else has access to that house? No one, which means that safe and its code belongs to someone within the society."

"The house is also an event center. That safe could be offered to guests who book the house. Wedding planners, event planners, guests...who knows who all has access to that office."

"But bookings are done through the Historical Society. It would make sense that everything is kept there if not with the club members."

The waitress interrupts by dropping Ryan's large beer down and she sets the basket of fries between us. We both take rather large swigs of our drinks and after a moment in our heads, I say, "Are you just playing this off so I won't ask questions."

His avoiding gaze answers my question. I throw my head back in annoyance.

"I know you want me to stay out of it, but I may have just handed you the final nail in Arthur's coffin."

"How am I supposed to tell Mason that you found a wall safe?"

I shrug my shoulders while popping a fry into my mouth.

"By telling him the truth. I went to measure the banisters, needed a pen, went upstairs and when I was looking for one, I tripped over the lamp which caused it to knock against the picture hiding the safe. I told you about it because..."

He points to me.

"Exactly. Why would you have been suspicious of a safe if I hadn't told you we were looking into Arthur? I can't tell Mason that you know...well how much you know."

"I told you to look into Arthur. Remember? If it weren't for me, you'd never have looked into the accounting issues or the fact that he's a golf pro."

Ryan frowns and reaches for a handful of fries. He's avoiding eye contact with me and the way he's slightly shaking his head means he's frustrated. I wonder if he's annoyed that I am helping him out too much at his job. Maybe he wants all the credit in finding the murderer?

I reach for his hand and say, "We don't have to tell Mason I gave you Arthur's lead. I'm not looking for credit."

Ryan's emeralds snap to me and he suddenly laughs. I look to him confused and he says, "I'm not looking for credit Sawyer, I am looking for the murderer. If I find it with your or Mason's help then the job gets done."

"Oh, I thought maybe you were annoyed that I may have solved the case," I say with a smirk. He shakes his head.

"Oh my dear, Sawyer. You are cute ya know," he says with a grin. I drop my hand from the fry basket.

"What? I do feel like I have helped you out a great deal." He laughs again and I throw a fry at him. He shakes his head while he plants his elbows on the table.

"Yes, you have helped shed light on a few things. But there are also things you don't know and that I won't let you know."

He shouldn't have said that because now I am intrigued. What don't I know about this case? What are they keeping from me?

The waitress comes back over to take our order and after we order our burgers, I look back to Ryan.

"So, you don't think Arthur is the killer?"

I see a twinkle in Ryan's eye and I know he's enjoying keeping his secrets. His ornery grin is back and I shake my head at him. He reaches over the table to grab my hand as he says, "You just keep planning the party, Sawyer. It's more important than you know."