Family Secrets (Brannon House Book 2) Read online

  “When did you discover it?” asks the detective.

  “Years ago.”

  “How many? An estimate?”

  “When my husband was still alive.”

  Kenzi sighs dramatically. “That’s hardly helpful. You were sent to the facility after he passed. Obviously you’d have had to know about it to get in that way.”

  “I was sent there?”

  My aunt turns to the detective. “We’re not going to get anything out of her. I want to go through the tunnel when you do. This is my property.”

  She stares him down. It’s like they’re familiar with each other beyond the fact that he was looking into my mom’s murder. Or maybe it’s my imagination. My aunt is one of those people who just naturally gets on with people as soon as she meets them. I think it’s because of her job. She has to be a pro at putting on an act to pretend to be the fiancée or best friend of someone she just met.

  But given the look on the detective’s face, I don’t think her charisma is going to be enough to convince him to let her explore with him.

  Grandma turns, her eyes narrowed.

  The detective shakes his head. “That may be, but it’s still a matter of safety.”

  Kenzi turns her attention back to Grandma. “How did you discover the tunnel? If Dad didn’t know about it, how did you?”

  Grandma doesn’t respond right away.

  “Mom?” My aunt sounds irritated.

  “It was your uncle. He showed me.”

  “Uncle Jack? Why?”

  “He wanted privacy.”

  “Privacy?” She exchanges a confused glance with Felton. “For what?”

  Ding-dong!

  He pushes his chair back. “My partner is here.”

  Kenzi leaps up. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go with you guys.” She turns to Grandma. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

  “You can stay at the entrance.” The detective marches into the hall toward the front door.

  My aunt turns to me. “You can stay at the entrance.”

  If nothing else, this will be interesting.

  27

  Kenzi

  I step down onto the first rickety step. Then the next.

  Ember follows me. “You go, I go.”

  I stop and glance back. “You heard the detective. Someone needs to stand at the entrance. What if something goes wrong?”

  “He told you to wait for them to come back.”

  “It’s also been a full ten minutes since we last heard from them.”

  “Then use that walkie-talkie thing he gave you. It goes both ways.”

  I can’t argue with that. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for the beach?”

  “This is more interesting.”

  I try to use the device in my hand to call Graham, but I can’t find the right button. If only my phone would work, but there’s no signal in the tunnel. I already tried. “Back up. I need light to work this thing.”

  My niece moves back, and I join her in the hallway, my eyes readjusting to the light. I manage to find the right button to reach the detective.

  “Felton,” he answers.

  Relief washes through me at the sound of his voice. “How’s it going?”

  “Everything still looks good.”

  “Are you near the end?”

  He chuckles. “No way to know until we get there.”

  “Let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  I put the radio back. “Where’s Mom? She should’ve been back by now.”

  “Probably organizing her room or cooking.” Ember leans against the door and sighs.

  “You okay?”

  She nods then yawns.

  “Getting enough sleep?”

  “Can you ask some more questions?”

  “I’m trying to be helpful.” I crane my neck to try and see down the hall. Cup my ears but don’t hear anything.

  “She’s probably scaring the ghosts.” Ember peeks into the tunnel entrance.

  The corners of my mouth twitch. “I wouldn’t put it past her, but in all seriousness, I need to check on her.”

  “She isn’t a kid.”

  “Right. She’s worse.” I hand her the radio unit. “You know how to work this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If Felton gives you any update, call me.” I pat my pocket where my phone is. “Okay?”

  “Sure.” Ember leans against the wall again. “I’m sure absolutely nothing will happen.”

  “Let’s hope.” I head down the hall, giving her another reminder over my shoulder to call me if she hears anything.

  “Already said I would.”

  I peek in the kitchen as I pass. Empty. Then I make my way upstairs. Quiet, sunny. I head toward Mom’s room, and the light dims as I move away from the large windows. Still no noises.

  Except a child’s giggle.

  I ignore it. It’s probably all in my head, anyway. Just being in this house—especially now, with my mom back here too—old dusty memories are being awoken. And my niece is right. If there are ghosts, they would be more frightened of my mom than the other way around.

  Mom’s door is closed. I rap my knuckles on the wood. “Mom? Are you in there?”

  No response.

  Maybe she’s gotten into the habit of napping, though it’s still pretty early.

  I knock again, then warn her that I’m coming in. The room is dim with the curtains drawn. Nearly everything has been rearranged. She isn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Where would she be? Could be anywhere.

  Then a thought strikes me. What if she went to my room? It had been hers for so many years. A sense of violation runs through me as I picture her rifling through my things. If she wouldn’t have lied about her mental state, she would still have her room. She’d have been here in the house all this time.

  Why would anyone choose to live in a memory care facility, pretending to have forgotten everything?

  That’s something I’ll have to try to understand later. For now, I just need to find her in this enormous house. I make my way through the halls, my gaze lingering on each closed door. How many secrets remain hidden behind those? More than I have time to look into at the moment while I have a living, breathing mystery to solve.

  When I get to my room, I peek in. Nothing is out of place. “Mom?”

  Silence. Not even a giggle. I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.

  I hurry over to the entrance to the third floor and call up. “Mom? Are you up there?”

  Nothing.

  This is taking too long. I check my phone. Nothing from Ember. I send her a text.

  Kenzi: How’s it going?

  Ember: They’re still exploring. Not at end yet.

  Kenzi: Still?

  Ember: Yep. Find Gma?

  Kenzi: Not yet.

  Ember: Serious?

  Kenzi: LMK if u hear anything.

  Ember: OK. U2.

  My mind races. How long is that tunnel? I hadn’t expected it to take half this long. The crazy part is that someone—or many someones—had to build it. Secretly, at that. Shorter makes more sense, right? Or did they think it would be better to go on for an insanely long way?

  Knowing what I do about my ancestors, they didn’t dig it themselves. They hired people who more than likely stayed up on the third floor. It had to have been for a long time if the tunnel really went as long as it seemed. Unless Graham and his partner were taking their time, stopping to examine every little thing. Maybe that’s it. Because aside from the time it took to construct, there’s also the fact that my mother who is in her seventies, has been traveling it on a regular basis. I have a hard time picturing her in a super long tunnel, especially if she needed to get back to the facility after doing what she needed to and traveling underground both in and out.

  My head spins trying to make sense of it all. I need to stop expecting things to be like they should. It’s the Brannon family I’m dealing with. A huge house with more s
ecrets than I can probably imagine. Even if I made it my full-time job to find every one, it would take years. I’d probably have to pass the baton onto Ember.

  After I make my way through the first and second levels, not going into the closed off rooms, I return to my niece. She looks up from her phone. “Didn’t find her?”

  I shake my head. “No idea where she went.”

  “Did you look out front? She used to enjoy time in the garden.”

  “It’s now just weeds.”

  She shrugs. “Where else would she be?”

  I look around, trying to think of anywhere I might’ve missed. “That’s what I’d like to know. It might be time to check out some of the other rooms.”

  Ember puts her phone in her pocket. “Are you serious?”

  “Where else would she be? I’d still be searching if I’d checked every single room. It could take hours, considering how long some of them have been closed off. Probably need a dust mask before entering.”

  She tilts her head. “You didn’t look in any when the locks were being replaced?”

  “I peeked in a few, but I was also dealing with the security system installation and the—”

  A noise sounds from the tunnel. Can’t tell what it is. It’s faint.

  Ember and I exchange a wide-eyed glance.

  I reach for the radio unit. “Are they coming back? Did they reach the end?”

  She hands it to me. “They didn’t say.”

  My heart thunders. What if there was a cave-in? Or something dangerous my mother didn’t warn us about?

  Another sound from the tunnel. Sounds kind of like a rumble. That could definitely be a cave-in.

  I click the button on the radio. “Hello? Hello? Are you there?”

  It makes noise like someone is going to respond, but nobody speaks.

  I’m about ready to throw the unit back to my niece and bolt in there. But I try again. “Hello? Are you okay?”

  More radio noise. Then what sounds like a voice, but I can’t make out any words.

  “I’m coming in!”

  Static. Then a clear voice. “No.”

  “Graham!”

  Ember stares at me, color draining from her face. “Did you say—”

  “Graham!” I call again, ready to race underground.

  She repeats his name.

  The radio makes noise. “One of the walls collapsed.”

  My heart leaps into my throat. “What? Are you trapped? Hurt?”

  Ember just keeps staring at me.

  Static. “We’re not trapped. My leg is buried in rubble.”

  “I’ll be right there!”

  “No!” His voice is strained, he has to be in pain. “Remember how I showed you to radio my sergeant?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Do that, Kenzi. Whit should close by. He’ll be knocking in minutes.”

  “But I’m closer! Graham!”

  “Listen to me. Radio Whit. Will you do that for me?”

  Pressure builds in my chest. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to race in there. “Okay. Yes, I’ll tell him what’s going on. Will he bring others?”

  “He knows what to do. Over and out.”

  I start to radio the sergeant, but hesitate when I notice Ember’s even paler now and breathing heavily. “Do you need help too? Are you having an asthma attack?”

  I’m not even aware of her having any medical conditions, but something is clearly going on.

  She shakes her head. “Just get them help.”

  I call the sergeant and in less than two minutes, the doorbell rings. Ember looks like she needs the wall for support, so I race for the front door.

  28

  Kenzi

  Pain squeezes my chest as I stare helplessly into the tunnel entrance. At this point, more police than I can count have come into the house and either into the tunnel or into the backyard to figure out where Graham and his partner are.

  Ember and I are both struggling to breathe normally as we wait. My mother still hasn’t shown herself. I want to find her and chew her out for it, but it could be for the best that she’s not in the way. It would just be nice to have her keep me in the loop. Not only am I worried for Graham’s safety and Ember’s fragile state, but now I need to think about Mom on top of everything else.

  Once this is over, we’re going to have to set some ground rules. It’s weird, taking on the parenting role over my mother, but it’s clearly necessary.

  Whit steps out from the tunnel, dirt smeared across his face and weaved into his hair.

  I leap over to him. “Are they okay?”

  He wipes his eyes. “Yes. Felton will need that leg looked at, but he’ll be fine. Might need some stitches.”

  I cringe. “It’s that bad?”

  Whit radios for a medic unit, and my heart sinks. I should have never told Graham about the tunnel. I’m glad I didn’t bring Ember in there, at least. I’d have never forgiven myself if she’d have gotten hurt. Though as pale as she is, I might need to have her looked over when the ambulance gets here. She’s really taking this to heart.

  The doorbell rings again, and I hurry to let in more officers. My head spins with all the conversation. Whit returns to the tunnel with two uniforms, a man and a woman. The door to the yard opens, and three police officers come inside, deep in conversation.

  I step in front of them. “What’s going on?”

  The tallest of the group turns to me. “Still trying to find their location from above.” Then they hurry toward the front door.

  Struggling to take a full breath, I stand next to my niece. “Do you want to go lie down? Or join Gretchen at the beach?”

  She shakes her head no. “I’m not leaving.”

  “You should eat. You look—”

  “No.” Her brows draw together. “I’m staying here. I won’t even go to the kitchen.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Her eyes shine with tears. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath and consider my wording. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  I’m tempted to go into the tunnel, but I won’t get far. Not with all the uniforms bustling around. There’s no way they’ll let me in given part of it has already collapsed. But I need to check on Graham, to see him with my own eyes.

  Whit comes back inside. “Got any bottled water I can bring to them?”

  “Yeah. Hold on.” I race to the kitchen and fill my arms. “You guys can have as many as you need. We have more if you need them.”

  “Thanks.” He takes the plastic bottles and turns to the tunnel.

  “Hey, Whit?”

  He glances back at me. “Yeah?”

  “Tell the detective we’re rooting for him.”

  Whit gives a slight nod before disappearing into the darkness.

  Silence settles between my niece and me, other than the occasional sounds of police radios and conversation as they move around from the tunnel to the outside.

  After a few minutes, Ember glances at me. “You called him Graham.” Her tone makes it sound like a question. A really important one.

  My stomach knots. She’s picked up on the fact that there’s something between Graham and me, and that I’ve been keeping it from her. I swallow and nod. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you, but we’ve seen each other a few times. Nothing serious. My focus is on you, not dating anyone. I don’t even want a relationship right now.”

  She stares ahead, and I’m not sure she even heard me.

  “Ember?”

  “My birth dad’s name is Graham.”

  Time halts. Everything spins around me. I lean against the wall for support. “You … your … I thought you didn't know anything about him.”

  She chews on her lower lip. “I didn’t. But then I found a letter in my mom’s room. She told me everything she knew about my dad. It wasn’t much, but his first name is Graham.”

  So many questions swirl in my
mind, but nothing coherent comes from my mouth.

  Ember plays with her ear.

  Her ear. The same habit I noticed from Graham.

  She takes a deep breath. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find him or not. I mean, he might not want anything to do with me. He doesn’t even know I exist. The guy probably has a family and I would just mess it all up. Piss off his wife. Upset his kids.”

  “He might be happy to hear from you.”

  “That could be worse!” A single tear slides down her face.

  I wrap my arms around her. “Why would that be?”

  “Mom said he was going to school across the country. He might want to pull me away from my whole life here. From Gretchen.” She sighs. “From you.”

  “I wish you’d have told me. I’d be more than happy to help you look into this.”

  “Do you think he’s my dad? The detective?”

  “I suppose anything’s possible, but it’s unlikely.”

  Or is it? I step back and study her, picturing Graham’s face. Their hair is almost the same color. They have the same gold flecks in their irises. Their noses and chins are strikingly similar now that I think about it.

  “Why don’t you think it’s likely?” She frowns.

  “He’s a lot younger than your mom, for starters.” I do the mental math. “He’d have been eighteen when you were born. That’s eight years younger than your mom, and I never once saw her date a younger guy. In fact, her penchant for older men drove Dad crazy. It was the one thing she did that didn’t make them sing her praises.”

  Ember doesn’t say anything.

  “Are you okay?”

  She takes a ragged breath. “My dad is eighteen years older than me. They had a quick fling, and Mom didn’t learn much about him other than his first name and the fact that he was heading across the country to start college.”

  I choke on air. “Are you serious? Where is this note you found?”

  “It’s in my room now.”

  My knees wobble. I press my palm against the wall for support.

  “Do you think it’s him?” Ember’s voice wavers. “He could’ve come back after he got his degree. Did the detective go to school on the east coast?”

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that he graduated high school fifteen years ago.”