Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Oz was in charge of going to the master bedroom, making sure Halsten was in there, asleep, and that he stayed like that. The rest of us were focused on finding Dalia or proof of her existence. I’d suggested Locke do that job, but there was revenge brewing in his gut too. He had a sister, and she’d been abused. He’d found her with me, been concerned for her, and he wanted the bastard to pay.
We stood back while Thaddeus handled some codes and switches, and the light we were currently standing under went out.
“It’s done. You can go,” he said quietly.
I didn’t wait for anyone else as I stepped forward and opened the door, pausing to make sure Thaddeus had done his job correctly. When there were no alarms or signs of a silent trigger, I continued inside. Scanning the area, I walked into a game room with a billiards table in the center. To the far right was a fancy-ass poker table, and to the left was seating around a flat screen that hung on the wall.
Moving to the door farthest from us, I pointed at the other one in the room and nodded at Locke to take that exit. Oz followed him, and Bane was behind me. While the others were going to be taking the stairs up to the next floor, Bane and I were taking this floor first. The short hallway was wide and smelled of pine and leather. Much like a library, but the library was on the second floor on the opposite side of the house from the master bedroom. I paused and glanced into the next door because I didn’t remember it on the map of the place that Thaddeus had shown us.
Storage. Cleaning supplies and basic household necessities. Not going to help me.
Bane walked past me and took a right, as we had discussed, and I went left, going back toward the guest wing of the house, where Thaddeus had never spent any time.
While the map showed all the family bedrooms to be on the second floor, Thaddeus had said that Wayon had insisted that, “Dalia’s bedroom is down this hallway. Last door on the left.”
Wayon still believed that Lace was Dalia. Thaddeus hadn’t told him otherwise.
The map which had been drawn from a blueprint of the house showed that door as being the one that led to the basement. Either Lace had lied about her bedroom, Dalia was hidden down there, or it had been turned into a living space. Whatever the case, I was going there first.
Opening the door, I glanced back to see Bane had already disappeared around the corner to search the rest of the first floor. Turning back to the opening, I stared downstairs into a completely dark area. I didn’t want to turn on any lights just yet. Someone might be down there. Easing my phone from my back pocket, I used the screen light to give me enough illumination to see the stairs as I descended.
When I reached the bottom, I listened for breathing, any sign of life, but heard nothing. Complete stillness. Deciding it was safe to turn on my phone’s flashlight, I lit up the area around me.
This was not what I’d expected.
Concrete walls and floors, boxes stacked among old furniture that had been discarded and piled in heaps.
What the fuck?
I looked for a light switch, but I didn’t see anything. I moved farther inside, and the stench of mold and mildew hung in the air. More boxes. Large portraits were stacked against a wall. I stepped closer and shoved off the sheet haphazardly covering it to get a better look.
A young girl sat on a horse in the first one. I bent down and shone the flashlight on it to see her face. The eyes were green. Olive green. The smile was off, and although the girl had dimples, she paled in comparison to Lace. This wasn’t her. Not even as a child. Turning on my phone camera, I took a photo of it, and then I picked the ornate framed oil painting up and set it aside.
The other portraits were of horses and one of an older woman painted many years ago. At least fifty years, judging from the hairstyle and dress. Not helpful.
Turning back to the area, I went farther into the mess, trying to decide if rummaging through this shit would be a waste of my time. It was packed full of unwanted items, much like an attic. Maybe Lace hadn’t wanted Wayon to know where her bedroom was. Maybe she’d come down here and wait until he left.
But why here? It stunk. Weren’t there better rooms to choose from?
Shoving aside what I assumed was once a privacy screen, I shone the flashlight to see what else was back there before going to search elsewhere when I noticed a cleared-out spot toward the back. Stepping around the screen, I pushed boxes out of my way and had to shove over a few trunks until I reached it.