Hidden in the Wall

by Valerie Hansen

  “You locked me in.”

  “I what? Be serious, Steff. Why would I do that?”

  “Because I caught you snooping around.”

  “Oh, really?” Trevor was fighting to control his temper. “And why would I want to do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe to get the jump on Fowler Brothers? To see what we’d paid for their previous work so you could underbid them for the library?”

  “If I wanted to know what they’d charged, I’d ask them. Or you. I wouldn’t have to sneak to find out.”

  “Are you trying to tell me you weren’t messing around in the old records?”

  “I’m not trying to tell you anything,” Trevor said flatly. “I am telling you. I was not in the basement. And I did not lock the door on you.” He gave her a look of disdain. “Whether or not you choose to believe me, that’s the truth.”

  He could tell from her confused expression that she wasn’t sure what to think. Suspecting him was natural, he guessed, since no one else was supposed to be here at this time of night. Her refusal to accept his honest denial, however, hurt his pride.

  Steff smoothed the hem of her shirt over her hips and stood ramrod-straight. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

  “I don’t know. Didn’t you see?”

  “No. It was dark and he surprised me.”

  Trevor tensed and peered into the darkness of the basement. “You’re sure it was a man?” He sidled protectively between Steff and the open doorway. “Maybe he’s still down there.”

  “I doubt it. I’m almost positive I saw a big shadow dart out the door just before I was locked in.” She shivered and studied Trevor as though she was arguing with herself over whether or not to accept his alibi.

  He ignored the unspoken implication. “What are you doing back here at this time of night, anyway?”

  “I was just passing by and I saw the lights, so I stopped.”

  “Do you want me to call the police or report this incident to campus security?”

  “No way. I’m already on the outs with my father. I don’t need to make any more waves, thank you.”

  He suspected she was making excuses because she was trying to protect him. Therefore, she must still believe he was guilty. That wasn’t a very comforting conclusion. “Okay, if you’re sure that’s how you want to handle it.”

  “I’m positive. No one was hurt. Besides, I could have been mistaken.”

  “Just the same, I’ll walk you back out to your car. Are you calm enough to drive home by yourself?”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course I am.”

  Opening the driver’s door, he held it as he scanned the backseat. “Looks safe enough. Lock yourself in.”

  Steff paused, her hands fisted on her hips. “Hold it, mister. Before I go, I have something to ask you.”

  He didn’t like her accusatory tone or her closed expression. “Okay, shoot. But make it quick. I have hours more work to do tonight.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to save that piece of writing we found in the wall?”

  “Who says I did?” He scowled. “Never mind. I take it Alicia has been blabbing.”

  “She told me you kept it, yes. Do you have any idea how much trouble that caused me? I spent hours sorting through that trash trying to find it.”

  Trevor shrugged, hoping he looked as nonchalant as he intended. “You did? Sorry.”

  “When were you planning to tell me you had it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe never.” His hand was still on the car door, keeping Steff from storming away in a huff. He gestured with his other hand. “It’s not important. Get in your car and go home. The excitement’s over.”

  Giving him a disparaging look, she got in the car and slammed the door.

  Watching her drive away, Trevor wondered if she truly believed anything he’d said. He hoped so, but he seriously doubted it.

  Thoughtful, he started back into the office. If he’d been in Steff’s shoes he’d probably have had the same reaction. The only things that really bothered him were not knowing who she had surprised in the storage area and why he’d been there.

  Reentering the building he headed straight for the basement. If there was anyone still poking around, he was going to find him and settle things once and for all.

  Trevor hoped he did encounter the prowler. At least that way he’d be able to prove to Steff that he had not been the one who had cruelly locked her in.

  His fists clenched as he pictured her face, recalled the terror he’d seen in her usually lovely eyes. He wasn’t violent a man but he wasn’t averse to taking on anyone who abused Steff. Nobody was going to get away with harming or scaring her. Not while he was around.

  Opening the door, Trevor switched on all the overhead lights and started cautiously down the stairs. To his disappointment, although he searched every nook and cranny, there was no sign of a prowler other than a few out-of-place boxes and some disturbed dust that could have been caused by Steff herself.

  As he turned to start back up the stairs he looked at the risers. The prints his work boots had left in the dust were evident from the waffling of the soles. Steff’s smaller, smooth prints were easy to pick out, too, and he could see where she had stepped, both on her way down and going back up.

  The hair on the back of Trevor’s neck prickled. He froze. There was a third set of footprints, large like his, only with a different sole. They were man-size. And they looked as if they overlapped some of Steff’s.

  “What are you calling me for? I told you to leave me alone unless I contacted you.”

  “Something’s come up. Something you should know about.”

  “It can’t be that important.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”

  The recipient of the telephone call made a sound of disgust. “All right. Tell me what’s got you so upset, and it had better be good.”

  “Oh, it’s good, all right. Remember that night about ten years ago when you had those serious problems on campus?”

  “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

  “Well, you’d better think carefully. Is there any way our late, lamented friend could have left something behind on some of the construction materials that were piled outside near the library?”

  “What are you talking about? I was very careful.”

  “I’m not so sure. It seems Ms. Kessler has come across an initial that she insists was written in blood and she’s blabbing all over campus about finding it.”

  “My initial?” The voice was shrill.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I’m just checking.”

  “Well, what did it look like?”

  “I don’t know. She seems to have misplaced it.”

  “Then forget it.” A sigh echoed, deep and noisy. “And unless you find it and it does implicate me, I don’t want to hear from you again. When I need to deal with you, I’ll be the one to initiate the call. Got that?”

  “Don’t forget, we’re in this together.”

  The voice on the other end of the line laughed hoarsely. “Sure, we are. Some of us just care more about our supposedly sterling reputations than others do. Goodbye.”

  Staring at the receiver, his fist tightened. Someday, hopefully, the guilty party would pay for all this. The only question he had was whether more than one person would end up taking the fall. Namely, him.

  Steff relived her recent scares every time she arrived at work during the ensuing days. She didn’t like being so apprehensive, not even a tiny bit, especially since she had always thought of Magnolia College as her refuge. Something had changed, starting with the prowler by the library and intensifying when she’d been locked in the basement, and she wasn’t sure how to overcome her lingering misgivings.

  “It’s all Trevor’s fault,” she muttered, thinking she was alone.

  Brenda’s head popped around the corner from the break room. “What is? What’s he done?”

  Sighing deeply, Steff shook her head as sh
e joined her coworker. “Maybe nothing. I don’t know. Remember how you were scared to death of going into the basement?”

  “Sure, I do. I still am. Why?”

  “Well, I got locked in there a few nights ago.”

  “You’re not serious!”

  “Unfortunately, I am. It was after hours and I thought Trevor was messing around, so I went to down investigate.”

  Brenda’s eyes widened. “Was he?”

  “I don’t know. He said he was in here, having a cup of coffee, when somebody knocked me down, ran up the stairs and locked the door.”

  “Oh, you poor thing!” She grabbed Steff’s hand. “How did you get out?”

  “Trevor. He said he heard me pounding.”

  “So, what makes you think he was the one who locked you in?”

  “I guess because neither of us saw anyone else. If there had been a prowler, surely Trevor would have noticed him running away.”

  “Not if he was in here guzzling coffee,” Brenda said. “Besides, if he did it, why let you out? I mean, what would be the purpose in the first place?”

  “To play a bad joke, I guess. It still gives me the willies to pass that door, and that makes me furious all over again.”

  “Did you ever go back down to see if anything was tampered with?”

  Steff shook her head forcefully. “No.”

  “Did Trevor?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask him.”

  Still grasping Steff’s hand, her friend urged her toward the offices. “Okay. Let’s go do it now. He’s almost done with your bookcases and we’ll never have a better chance.”

  Steff hung back.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to hear what he has to say?”

  “Truthfully, no,” Steff admitted. “I’ve had several opportunities to ask him more about that night and I haven’t done it. What if he confesses that he’s guilty, after all?”

  “What if he really isn’t?”

  “You have a point there.” She sighed again. “Okay. We may as well do it now rather than wait.”

  Her mind made up, Steff took the lead. They found Trevor putting finishing touches on the new woodwork.

  Steff pushed the door open slightly and called to him. “Can we come in?”

  “Sure. Just hold your breath.”

  His voice sounded muffled. Steff knew why when she saw that he was wearing a respirator.

  “What do you think?” he asked, stepping back from his work and gesturing with the paintbrush.

  “They’re beautiful,” Steff said. “Look, Brenda.”

  The other woman agreed. “Very nice.”

  “Thanks.” He dipped his brush into the varnish. “Well, if you ladies will excuse me, I need to finish this coat in one smooth operation so there are no laps.”

  “We’ll go in a second,” Steff said. “First, we want to know if you’ve been back down to the basement.”

  “Not since the night you had problems with the door,” Trevor said cautiously. “I did go look the place over after you left. Why?”

  Steff wished she could see his full expression so she could read his emotions more clearly, but the mask covered all but his eyes. “Just wondered. Brenda asked me.”

  Trevor frowned. “What you really want to know is if I’m the one who locked you in. I already told you I didn’t. What more can I say?”

  “I wasn’t implying that,” Steff insisted.

  “You were thinking it. I can read you like a book, Princess. I always could.” He concentrated on Brenda, instead. “I wasn’t going to mention this because I knew it would upset Steff, but I did notice more than just our prints in the dust on those basement stairs. Maybe you can convince her I’m telling the truth. I give up.”

  “I’ll try.” Edging toward the doorway, Brenda pulled Steff with her. As soon as they were outside, Trevor shut the door firmly behind them.

  “I believe him,” Brenda said.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because of the hurt look in his eyes. I really think he’s innocent. Maybe there was somebody else down there, after all.”

  “Phooey. Those other prints could have been made ages ago and you know it.”

  “Okay. Maybe the lock malfunctioned when the door closed. Have you thought about that?”

  Pausing, Steff stared at her. “No. I hadn’t.” Although she was still certain someone had pushed her from behind, she glanced at the outer door. “Trevor had left the front wide open that night. I remember because this place was full of moths.”

  “See? It’s possible the whole thing was an accident.”

  “Possible, but not probable,” Steff countered. “Tell you what. Let’s try it ourselves.”

  “Let’s not.”

  The expression on her friend’s face made Steff grin. “Don’t panic. I’ll be the one on the cellar side. All I want you to do is stand by in case it does lock when I slam it. I don’t intend to get stuck in there again.”

  Steff was first to the basement doorway. She stepped through and flipped on the overhead lighting in spite of the faint sunshine coming through the small windows below.

  “I’m going to slam the door, then try to open it.”

  “What if it locks?”

  “That’s the idea. All you’ll have to do is let me out if it does. Ready?”

  “No. But I’ll help you if you insist. Just be careful.”

  Steff laughed softly. “Nothing bad can happen to me with you standing right there.” Stepping back, she shut the door with a bang. In seconds she’d opened it again. “Well, so much for that theory.”

  “Thank goodness. Just testing it gives me the shivers.”

  “Now we need to see if it could have blown closed,” Steff said. “Open the front door and check for a breeze.”

  Brenda did as she was told. “Nope. Not a whisper. How about setting up a fan?”

  “Don’t bother. Just shove this door closed one more time and we’ll quit fiddling with it.”

  “Okay. You’re the boss.” She gave the heavy old door a push. It slammed with a whump and a distinctive click. “Uh-oh.”

  Steff had heard the same noises. When she tried the handle, the door wouldn’t budge. “Twist the knob from your side,” she shouted.

  “I am. I can’t move it!”

  “Well, try harder.” She heard the lock being jiggled, then footsteps hurrying away. “Brenda? Brenda, where are you going?”

  Trying not to panic more than she already was, Steff kept testing the door to no avail. She finally turned with her back to it and stared, wide-eyed, into the murky depths of the cellar.

  There was no logical reason to be afraid this time, so why was her heart speeding and her breathing so rapid? After all, it was silly to fear being locked in here. She knew her friend wouldn’t actually abandon her.

  Steff took a shaky breath and released it with a whoosh. Obviously, Brenda had gone for help. Too bad the only decent set of muscles close by belonged to Trevor Whittaker.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” Steff mumbled. “That man is going to think I need rescuing every time he turns around.”

  Unfortunately, that was proving to be more fact than fiction, as was her tendency for getting into one predicament after another.

  Well, it couldn’t be helped. And it did prove one important thing. There was a good chance that Trevor had not locked the door when she was downstairs. If nothing else good came of this so-called experiment, at least she felt better about that maddening, enigmatic man.

  Staring into the far reaches of the stacks below, she felt unreasonable tendrils of fright start to encroach on her sensibility.

  “It’s just a room,” Steff insisted out loud, hoping that the sound of her own voice would help calm her nerves.

  “Yeah,” she countered sarcastically, “a dark, scary, forbidding room full of creepy shadows and unseen bogeymen.”

  Turning to face the door again, she stopped considering her pride and began to s
hout, “Help! Get me out of here.”

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  SIX

  T he clomping of Trevor’s work boots heralded his approach. He stopped at the basement door and tried the knob. At his elbow, Brenda was wringing her hands and sniffling.

  “You didn’t do anything but slam it?” he asked her.

  “No. Nothing else. Please hurry.”

  He called to Steff. “You doing okay in there?”

  “Just peachy,” she answered wryly. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

  “I can’t get the lock to work this time,” he called through the heavy mahogany door. “I can either oil the mechanism and wait for it to hopefully release or pry it open. Your choice.”

  “Whatever’s faster.”

  “Okay. Hold on. I’ll go get a crowbar from my truck and have you out in a jiffy.”

  “He’s coming right back,” he heard Brenda shout as he jogged away. “And don’t worry. I’m still here.”

  Incredulous, Trevor shook his head. If he didn’t know better he’d think the princess was getting herself into all these jams to gain his attention. He didn’t really believe she’d stoop to such silly tricks, but the idea crossed his mind just the same.

  At least this time she’d had a cohort so he couldn’t blame the whole situation on Steff. He did wish she’d let him finish his work, though. The sooner he distanced himself from the stuffy collegiate atmosphere—and from her—the better off they’d all be.

  He returned with a crook-shaped iron bar and wedged the straight end of it into the doorjamb next to the lock. “Okay. Stand back. This might splinter when it pops loose.”

  “You want me to go down the stairs?”

  “That’s the idea. Turn on the lights so you won’t be scared.”

  “They’re already on. And who says I’m scared?” Her voice faded as she spoke. “Okay. I’m halfway down the stairs. Go ahead.”

  He leaned on the bar, felt the door wiggle a little and repositioned his lever to try again. On his third attempt the lock gave.

  Steff raced up from the lower level and out into the foyer. At first her eyes were wide and she seemed to be breathing hard, but she quickly composed herself. Brenda, on the other hand, burst into tears.