“Look under the dresser. Does it rest on anything?”
Beccy crouched down again and shone her torch from side to side. “Well, I’ll be damned. It’s on wheels.”
“Let me.”
Beccy got to her feet and stepped out of the way. Liam grabbed one end of the dresser and pulled. It slid forward a couple of inches.
“Why did I never notice that before?” She put her hand on her cheek and tilted her head.
“Because of this.” Liam pushed a tiny button his finger had found, and the dresser became immoveable. He pressed it again and slid the dresser forward another foot.
“Why’s it got that?”
“If you’re curious about that, you’re going to love this,” said Liam, looking behind the dresser.
“What? What is it?”
Liam pulled the dresser forward until there was a big enough gap for him to walk behind it. Beccy peered around the corner.
Her shining eyes widened when she saw the faded white door. “Wow,” she gasped.
“Perhaps Aunty Di has a secret sex dungeon after all,” Liam smirked. Beccy shot him a scathing look and then shuffled in beside him. “Are you sure you want to look inside?” he asked.
“Too right.”
Liam turned the handle and pushed open the door. A round, old-fashioned light switch protruded from a flaking brick wall. Thick black wire snaked its way up to a light bulb dangling from the ceiling. Liam flicked the switch illuminating a small landing at the top of narrow, brick steps.
“How could I have not known there was another room here?”
“It looks like someone wanted it kept secret.”
“You first,” said Beccy.
Liam chuckled. “Oh, I see, it’s okay for me to ungentlemanly now.”
“It is when there’s a spooky, old cellar involved.”
Dirt crackled under his shoes as he made his way carefully down the small steps. Beccy rested her hand on his shoulder as she followed closely behind. They turned a sharp corner and found themselves in a small brick room. A single light bulb sat in a sagging socket in the ceiling, a cobweb-covered shelf hung on the far wall, and a crumpled, red blanket half-covered a faded mattress in one corner. The cool air sent tingles down Liam’s neck. He pulled his coat tighter.
“Very strange,” Beccy muttered as she walked slowly around the room.
Liam wrinkled his nose at the musky aroma.
“Smells like an animal was kept down here at some point.”
“Something with big-ass claws,” she said, tapping her foot next to an uneven line of flaking gouges in the brick floor. “I’ve got a million questions to ask my aunt when I see her—” She broke off and walked over to the wooden shelf. “But the first is why’s this down here?”
She turned and held out a dusty, white envelope with Rebecca Sanders written in neat capital letters.
“What’s inside?” Liam asked with forced cheeriness. A feeling of unease had settled in his stomach and smothered his libido.
While Beccy ripped open the envelope, he walked as casually as possible over to the mattress and nudged the heaped-up blanket with his toe. He let out a quiet, relieved sigh as his foot sunk into the soft mound and offered no resistance.
“It’s a key,” came Beccy’s puzzled voice from behind him.
“Is there a note?” Liam asked distractedly as he looked at the blanket. Something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was because, although faded, the blanket didn’t have a layer of dust on it like everything else in the room. Perhaps it was because when he had nudged the blanket it had revealed part of a reddish-brown stain on the mattress. Whatever the source of his unease, he knew he had to look under the rest of the blanket.
“No note, just a key.”
“Good,” Liam muttered. Please don’t let there be a severed hand underneath.
He took a calming breath and lifted the blanket by its corner. A wave of surreal detachment washed over him, and he felt as if he was watching himself on a cinema screen.
Pass the popcorn, someone...please.
Liam tilted his head and surveyed the scene. He wasn’t sure if he was more disturbed by the pair of metal manacles attached to the wall by a thick chain or the brighter red splatter marks among the darker stains.
Beccy peered over his shoulder and gasped.
Liam spun around and grabbed her hand. “I think we should go.”
Her eyes remained fixed on the mattress.
“Now!” Liam said and pulled her towards the stairs.
Chills ran down his back as they hurried up the stairs and back into the kitchen. As Liam shut the cellar door he noticed that there was a thick rusty bolt on the cellar side of the door.
He pushed the dresser back into place and turned to face a pale, wide-eyed Beccy.
“That’s got to be the most disturbing room I’ve ever been in. What’s it for?” she said pulling a chair out from the kitchen table.
Liam joined her at the table. “I think we should call the police. Those stains looked like blood and some of them didn’t look too old.”
Beccy rested her elbows on the table. Her eyes remained fixed on the small, brass key she turned over and over.
“Beccy? The police?”
Light reflected from the key flickered on her frowning face. She continued staring at it as if mesmerised.
“Rebecca,” said Liam in a sharp tone.
She jumped and her amber eyes focused on him.
“Sorry. What did you say?” Her eyes drifted back to the key. “Do you remember what my aunt said on the phone?”
“Something about manners and a box?”
She nodded slowly. “The manners tick. Unlock the box.”
“And?”
“What if it wasn’t an overhead part of a conversation. What if she was telling me to unlock the box?” She held the key up. “You need a key to unlock a box.”
“What box?”
Beccy shrugged. “I don’t know. There are bound to be some around the house.” She stood up.
“I’ve got to look.”
“Wait. What were her exact words?”
“The manners tick. Unlock—”
Liam interrupted. “The manners tick. Manners tick. Could she have said, ‘The Manor’s attic’? You said she was whispering. Could she have said that?”
Beccy frowned. “I guess...” She paused for a moment, staring at Liam as if the answer was written on his face, and then nodded vigorously. “Yes! You’re right. She must have been talking about Sandborn Manor. There has to be a box up there, up in its attic.”
“See, I’m not just a pretty face.”
A faint glow sprung up in Beccy’s cheeks. She walked around the table and crouched down in front of Liam.
“May I?” she asked, lightly touching his hand.
Liam frowned and nodded. She took his hands in hers and gently stroked the back of his hands with her thumbs.
“I know this isn’t the weekend either of us were expecting. I’m so sorry for dragging you halfway up the country and then dragging you to my aunt’s house. I promise, after this is all done, I will give you my undivided attention.”
Liam slipped his fingers around her wrists, lifted her hands to his face, and kissed them gently.