Family Secrets (Brannon House Book 2) Page 10

  “It’s a tunnel that leads directly into our home! There’s nothing keeping anyone from getting in that way. The alarm isn’t hooked up to it, and I’ll bet there’s no lock.” She stares me down. “We have to find out where it goes!”

  “We need a plan before we go down there. And I do not want you exploring on your own. I hate to pull the adult card, but I have to. You could seriously get injured—killed, even! There’s no way of knowing if the walls and ceiling are reinforced. They could collapse at any time. Do you hear me? This isn’t a game.”

  She frowns. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

  I draw in a deep breath and hold it for a moment. “I’ll talk to Gr—uh, Detective Felton—and see what he thinks.” I don’t want her to know I’ve been seeing him, even if the dates have been casual and technically for my work. The girl needs stability, and I’m giving it to her as much as I can.

  “A cop?” she exclaims. “You think he’s a mysterious tunnel expert?”

  “Felton will know how to proceed. He looks into things for a living.”

  “You’re really going to talk to him? This isn’t going to be like the other rooms we haven’t touched yet?”

  “Of course I’m going to talk to him. This isn’t just a locked room. It’s a tunnel that goes to our house from who knows where.”

  “And how are we going to lock this door?” Ember looks around the edges. “There isn’t anything I can see to keep anyone out.”

  Pressure builds behind my eyes and temples. “I don’t know. Maybe the security company can come up with something.”

  “They’ll come out on a weekend?”

  “Probably not. I don’t know.”

  She groans. “What about putting a chair in front of it? Or aiming a camera at it?”

  “You think a chair will keep someone out?”

  “One kept me in the third floor.” She tilts her head.

  “And that was a monster of a chair! We’ll definitely never be able to lug that thing down the stairs.”

  Ember pushes the mirror closed. “That leads us back to, what’s the plan?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

  18

  Ember

  My eyes close, and I drop my phone on my chest. I’m too tired to pick it up. Don’t want to move. I’ve been trying to sleep for hours, playing stupid games to make myself tired.

  Creak!

  My eyes fly open and my heart races.

  And there it is. Another noise to wake me, scare me, and keep me up longer. It’s a good thing I didn’t sign up to help at any camps this week. My to-do list has one item on it—get ready for school.

  Okay, that’s not the only thing. There are also a million things to think about around here, mainly why is there a tunnel leading to our house? I thought other stuff about this house was creepy enough, but that takes the cake.

  A tunnel. That’s the most absurd thing yet. I mean, really. If anything is going to be haunted, it would be that. Like Kenzi said, it’s dangerous. But it couldn’t have been any less dangerous back when it was being used. What if part of it collapsed and killed people then? That possibility has “ghost” written all over it.

  I shudder at the thought. Not that it should bother me more than anything else around here. I already found an old murder scene on the third floor, and now my grandma, who may or may not be senile, could be responsible for it. And now we find out about her real firstborn, when we always thought that was my mom’s position in the family.

  Thud!

  I pull the covers up to my neck and knock my phone onto the floor in the process. Tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise, making me feel like I’m being watched. I leave my phone where it is. It can stay there, I don’t care.

  Thud!

  Maybe Kenzi is downstairs blocking off the mirror. I hate that it’s an entrance to our house. The security system made me feel so much better. We’re at the end of a quiet street with acres of woods behind us. Nobody would hear us if we screamed.

  Just like when I nearly died in this house. A lump forms in my throat, and my eyes mist. I’d never been more scared than that night. I really thought that was going to be the end for me.

  Creak!

  I really, really hope that’s my aunt. But it probably isn’t. The house never really gets noisy until after she falls asleep. All the weirdness is probably normal for her. Although she was gone for a long time, so it seems like she would’ve gotten used to a regular, quiet house. Unless apartment living is noisier than this.

  Seems hard to believe.

  Thud!

  Thanks for proving my point, ghosts.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as tightly as I can.

  Thud!

  Clearly, closing my eyes does nothing to keep the noises away. Maybe what I need to do is get up and face the sounds. They seem to be getting more frequent. I’m not imagining that. And it’s not like all the ruckus has actually done anything damaging.

  There are two options—at least as I see it. Either it’s all like Kenzi says, just an old house settling, and us moving things around is making it more pronounced, or there are actually ghosts. Ever since we pulled up to the driveway with all my belongings, I’ve thought it looked haunted.

  Nothing about living here has given me reason to think otherwise.

  I’m actually kind of jealous of my aunt. She can at least pretend everything’s normal. I’m not sure she fully believes it herself. Especially since I know she can hear the giggling because she tells it to stop.

  I hold my breath and wait for the next sound. Probably a creak. Seems to be one creak for every two thuds tonight. Every night is different.

  Bang!

  I jump and tighten my hold on the blankets.

  That was clearly the old ducts. But what never makes sense to me is that those aren’t in use anymore. My grandparents switched all the heating and cooling to central air before I was born. When I was little, I thought those noises were the ducts expressing their anger about not being used any longer.

  I’m not a little girl now. It’s time to stop assigning meaning where there isn’t any. I have to face my fears, and for now, that means proving to myself Kenzi’s right—the sounds aren’t malevolent. Or maybe they are, and I’m insane for trying to stand up to spirits.

  Sometimes I wish I didn’t have such an active imagination. I think I need to get back into drawing and painting. Then I can express my creativity that way instead of by picturing poltergeists.

  My mouth dries as I push the blankets off. I’m shaking, but I ignore it.

  I have to do this.

  As I touch my bare feet to the cold wooden floor, I bump my phone. It skitters across the room. I freeze at the sound, and my heart hammers. After taking a few seconds to try—but fail—to calm down, I stand up. The floorboard protests as I put my full weight on it.

  Creak!

  My breath hitches. The sound is from outside in the hallway. I dash to my phone, yank it from the floor, clutch it to my chest.

  Shadows move in the hallway, feet shuffling right outside my door.

  I freeze mid-step. Can’t breathe. Can’t move.

  Now the shadows go back and forth without making a sound.

  I leap back into bed and pull the covers over my face. Tonight isn’t my night for exploring.

  19

  Kenzi

  Ember and Gretchen wave back to me as they head for the mall to shop for school supplies and clothes. I had offered to go with them, but they wanted to go alone. Not that I could blame them. When I was that age, I wanted to hang out with my friends without adults hovering.

  I almost insisted because Ember has been so jumpy all morning. But it’s probably just nerves from discovering the tunnel. We ended up carrying a table from the library and placing it in front of the mirror. It won’t keep anyone out if they’re desperate enough to get in, but it’ll at least be a deterrent. And we’ll be able to tell if anyone comes in. Or tries to.

  When I check
ed this morning, it had been undisturbed. Not surprising since I got up at least half a dozen times to check on it and Ember. I kept hearing noises coming from her room. She must’ve been rearranging furniture. That’s what it sounded like.

  Once the girls are safely inside, I pull away from the curb and head for the coffee shop where I’m meeting Graham to discuss the tunnel. I’m not sure what I expect him to say. It’s not like I think the police have a protocol for something like this, but he might have some ideas on how to proceed safely. What, I don’t know. This can’t be something they see often. But he has to have more resources than I do.

  I hope. Because I’m way out of my comfort zone. It’s one thing to explore a room, even one that isn’t on the blueprints, but it’s an altogether different matter to figure out where a mysterious tunnel goes. I’ve been trying to remember if I ever came across any sheds or doors in the ground out in the woods. As a child, I’d spent so many hours exploring and playing, it seems I’d have found something—if there was something to be found.

  But then again, I might have found something and not have thought anything of it. With all the oddities in the house, a younger version of me wouldn’t have given a second glance at a door in the dirt or a locked shed in the middle of nowhere.

  Another problem with the tunnel is that the exit could have been destroyed decades earlier. My family had sold off property bit by bit, and if the tunnel had been purposefully kept secret, the owners at the time wouldn’t have known they were selling something so important.

  I pull into the parking lot of the coffee shop and immediately see Graham’s bright yellow sports car. Is he off-duty? More importantly, does he think this is a date? A real one? I try to remember exactly what I said to him when I asked him to meet me. Did I say something that could’ve been misconstrued? I can’t think of anything, but my big mouth tends to get me into trouble, so anything is possible. I’ll just deal with whatever comes my way.

  As soon as I step inside the building, Graham waves at me from a back corner and holds up two drinks.

  It’s definitely looking more like a date now.

  I smile and wave back then make my way over. “Am I late? I ran into some traffic by the mall. My niece is school-clothes shopping.”

  “No worries.” He grins, showing a dimple, and slides one of the cups over to me. “I’ve got the week off, so I have nothing but time.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere for your vacation?”

  He shrugs. “Last week, my captain pointed out that I had unused time I’d lose if I didn’t take it. Didn’t really have time to plan anything. I don’t mind a lazy week. But enough about me, how are things with you and Ember?”

  I take a deep breath and then sip my latte. “Never a dull moment.”

  Graham lifts a brow and leans forward. “This sounds interesting. I’d have thought things would have calmed down since the funeral.”

  “My mother happened.”

  “Ah. Family drama. I’ve been there more times than I care to think about.”

  I set my cup down and spin it in circles. “I’m sure you haven’t seen anything like mine.”

  He slides off his leather jacket and lets it fall on the back of the chair. “Try me. Most of my family is in the entertainment industry.”

  “Your family?”

  Graham laughs. “I went a completely different route on purpose. Now I deal with a whole other type of drama. Traded in one for another.”

  “Now you have me curious.” I sip my coffee. “Who’s drama is worse? The old money or the entertainers? It could be a tie.”

  “Since you’re the one dealing with it right now, why don’t you start?” He puts his warm hand on top of mine, enveloping it.

  My heart leaps into my throat. It takes me a moment to find my voice.

  He looks at me with curiosity but not impatience while he sips his drink.

  I manage to find my voice. “Well, the family drama is the least of my concerns at this point. Ember and I have discovered something in the house that makes me worry about our safety.”

  Graham sits up straighter, but his hand doesn’t move from mine. “What is it?”

  “We found a hidden entrance to the house.”

  He tilts his head. “If it’s hidden, then what’s the problem?”

  “I’m pretty sure my mom knows about it, but that isn’t all.” I take a deep breath. “It’s connected to an underground tunnel.”

  He doesn’t respond right away. Just stares at me, unblinking for a moment. “You have an underground tunnel on your property?”

  “Leading directly to an unlocked—and unlockable—secret door on my first floor.”

  Graham pulls his hand from mine and tugs on his ear. “That’s intense.”

  Does everyone pull on their ears? I shove that thought aside. “Tell me about it. But that’s not all.”

  He nods for me to continue.

  “This is going to sound crazy.”

  “I assure you, between my line of work and my family, there isn’t much that can surprise me.”

  I wring my hands together. “I think my mom might be using the tunnel to get in there.”

  And there it is. The look of disbelief. “She has dementia, right? And lives in the memory care facility across town?”

  “I told you it sounds nuts, but hear me out. Her head nurse informed me she’s been sneaking out. Do you know how hard it is to get in and out of there? I have to show ID every time someone new is at the front desk. The door is always locked and monitored. Someone has to let us in. A patient with memory problems couldn’t get out.”

  His forehead wrinkles. “What exactly do you think is going on?”

  “The only thing that makes any sense is that she’s been faking her memory issues this whole time. What if that knife with her prints is proof of her guilt? Wouldn’t it make sense that she’d cover it up?”

  “That’s really a stretch. That facility doesn’t just let anyone in. The doctors are experts in dementia and Alzheimer’s. And your mom has been there for a number of years, right? Long before your sister’s death and Ember finding the knife.”

  “Yes, and I know how it sounds. It’s insane, but we’re not just talking a single escape. My mother got out multiple times! Nobody even knew about it until a janitor spotted her in the parking lot. And as far back as their videos go, there’s proof of other breakouts. She could have been doing this all along.”

  Graham just frowns. “I can put your old murder case on a higher priority and look into it, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  I take a deep breath and hold it, trying to focus my thoughts. “Let’s forget about my mother for a moment. There’s a tunnel that leads directly to my house. Anyone who reaches the door can just walk in. I need to know where it leads, to find out how easy it would be for someone to go inside, travel underground, then walk into my house.”

  “And why can’t you just put a lock on the door?”

  “There’s no knob. It’s a floor-to-ceiling mirror.”

  He scratches his chin. “Your parents never said anything about it to you when you were growing up?”

  I shake my head, not wanting to get into the fact that they never told me anything other than I didn’t measure up as a Brannon.

  “Is it possible they didn’t even know about it? An underground tunnel sounds like something that’d have been built generations ago and eventually forgotten. Perhaps during the Prohibition era.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought.”

  “From what I know about this area in that time, the police were on to a huge ring of bootleggers but never caught them. It had to have either been a really elaborate operation or someone on the force was paid off.”

  “None of that surprises me because my family could’ve pulled off either scenario.”

  His eyes light up. “I’d love to have a look around. Solve a bit of history.”

  I lean my elbows on the table and rub my temples. “I’m sure my house ho
lds the answers to a lot of questions, but I don’t want to turn it into a massive crime scene. It’s my home, and I just want it to be my sanctuary. That’s it.”

  “I understand. What do you want to do in regards to the tunnel? How can I help?”

  I think about it for a moment. “Do you know how I can safely explore it?”

  His eyes widen. “You want to go in it? The whole way? I thought you wanted to check your yard for the other end.”

  “I need to know where it leads, and I’m worried about it collapsing and trapping me.”

  “Have you already gone inside?”

  “Only to the beginning. I thought it was a basement or some other type of room. I never imagined a tunnel!”

  He nods, looking deep in thought. “Let me speak to some guys on the force. I’m certainly no expert in secret tunnels.”

  “Wait.”

  Graham lifts a brow.

  “Nobody can prevent me from checking it out? You guys can’t call it a zoning issue or something? Or forbid me from going in due to something else?”

  “I’m not so much concerned about zoning as I am about safety. You’re right to be worried about that—I hate the thought of you going in alone. Let me talk to a lieutenant who has experience with some mines. He’ll know the best way to proceed.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “And I’m glad you asked before exploring.” He pulls out his phone and taps the screen.

  “Are you texting him?”

  “Just making some notes. I’ll give him a call after we’re done talking.” He looks up. “What was the tunnel like from what you could see at the entrance?”

  I sip my coffee before explaining what I saw, heard, and smelled down there.

  He makes more notes as I’m speaking. “It does sound potentially dangerous. Part of it could’ve already collapsed. It’s hard to say, especially since we know nothing of its history. Is there any way you can find out? Ask your mom? Look into records on the house?”

  “I doubt I’ll get anything out of my mom, but it’s worth a try. As for records, there isn’t anything on the blueprints. Not the official ones, anyway.”