Key to Death (The Possumwood Mysteries Book 6) by Dey Holly

Author:Dey, Holly [Dey, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Mare Books
Published: 2022-06-27T00:00:00+00:00

Phineas Scott and Cooper Downing lowered an aluminum ladder down into the well and secured it to one of the posts that held up the roof. Downing went first, followed by Scott. There wasn’t enough room for all four of them, so Tran and PC waited at the top.

She got out her phone and played the journal entry about how William had pressed on the side of the well and a hidden door swung open.

Downing examined the walls, starting in the direction of downtown. “This is weird.”

“How so?” Tran asked.

“There’s a place here, maybe four foot wide and six foot tall, where most of the mortar is missing. Some bricks, too.”

“What’s that?” Scott pointed to a brick.

Downing peered at it, then pulled some of the moss away. “Very strange. Looks like it’s etched into the brick. Five-pointed star with a G in the center. That’s an old Masonic symbol.” He pulled out his phone and took a few pictures.

After putting his device away, he pushed and pulled along one side of that area. Scott pushed and pulled on the other. At last, there was a dull snick of metal on metal, and the wall rotated inward with a rusty groan.

“We’re in!” Downing pulled a flashlight from his belt.

As the two men moved into the tunnel, PC and Tran descended the ladder. Downing’s flashlight was paler and dimmer than PC had hoped for as she entered the passageway. The chthonic darkness made her empathize with Mamie’s Persephone insight. Her eyes scanned the ceiling and walls, searching for any sign of weakness that the archaeologist’s wan flashlight beam might expose. As the floor was broken and uneven, she shuffled her feet so she didn’t trip. There was a smell. It seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. With every step into the tunnel, it got stronger.

Kind of like a full port-a-potty.

On a hot day.

Something flickered in the anemic beam of the flashlight, and a scratchy squeaking filled the tunnel. Startled bats took to the air in a chaotic, flapping horde. The four humans retreated to the daylight of the dry well. There wasn’t enough room for all of them, so Downing cowered at the tunnel’s mouth, covering his head.

“Jeez!” Scott rubbed his hands down the side of his face, and they met in prayer position for a moment under his chin. “How many bats are in there?”

“A bunch!” grunted Downing.

PC flinched as one of the small bats appeared in the well and fluttered around her head before jittering back into the dark. “Well, at least we know where they hide during the day. Maybe Wings over Possumwood can add the tunnels to their bat observation tour package.”

Scott shook his head. “No thank you. I don’t mind doing the Azalea Trail, but I don’t want a bunch of randos tromping around my back yard.”

After a while, the bat noises stopped.

Tran unsnapped his Maglite. “Should we try again? I’ll go first.”

They had to play an awkward game of round robin to get Downing out of the tunnel and Tran in.

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