"Let's go inside, quietly," said Jim.
The back door was still unlocked from their exit yesterday. They went into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone else having been there. Everything looked the same as it did the day before. Even the mousetraps were still set.
"We haven't been upstairs yet," said Jim.
"What are we waiting for?" said Jay. They mounted the stairs and found three bedrooms with little furniture inside. There was a brown leather recliner and a pressboard wood table in one room. A metal bed frame with an old mattress stood in another room, and the third was completely empty.
"There has to be something oak here somewhere," said Adrianna. She leaned against the wall and looked up. Above her was a trap door. "The attic, guys," she said, nodding toward the ceiling. "We haven't looked in the attic."
"Let's check it out!" said Jay. They got the table into the room, and by standing on it, Jay was able to reach the latch to pull down the collapsible stairs. All three of them went up. The daylight shining through the attic window was more than enough light. There, in the center of the space, was a very tall grandfather clock in the shape of an oak tree. Its "limbs" were carved wood pieces that extended off the main "trunk" of the tall clock, and around the edges of the door were carved small acorn shapes. Not only that, the clock was made of oak with a beautiful, warm, brown stain.
"It has to be here," said Jim. He and Jay opened the door of the clock and searched. "Nothing in there," he added.
Meanwhile, Adrianna was exploring some panels at the bottom of the clock when, to her delight, one of them opened. She reached in and felt a soft felt cloth wrapped around something hard. "It's here! It's here!” she cried. She unwrapped the cloth, and there inside was a very long key —a skeleton key.
"Good work, Adrianna!" said Jim. "Now what does this key open? And where do we find it?"
Suddenly, the attic stairs folded up into place and the opening was shut. Jay ran over to the trap door. It was tightly closed and wouldn't budge. "Something's jamming it!" he cried. "We're locked in!"
With Jim leading the action, they started to pound on the trap door with their fists. It was no use. Something must have been propped up against the opening. "Maybe we can open the window and yell out to a passerby. Someone should hear us if we yell loud enough," said Jay. He went over to the window and Jim joined him. The window was stuck as well, but with some muscle, they managed to free it and raise the window sash. They heard voices talking below, although they couldn't make out what they were saying.
Jim called down, "Whoever's down there, we need help. We're locked in the attic. Can you come in the house and get the attic stair door unstuck and get us out of here?" They tried to see who was in the yard.
In the space they could see below, a biker with a black helmet walked slowly into view. He turned and looked up. "There they are. The little family," he said. "You got a bird's eye view up there. See anything interesting?"
Another, “Cowboy Boots”, joined him. "Yep, that's them all right."
Jim yelled down, "Get us out of here, please!"
“Now why would we wanna do that when we're the ones who trapped you up there in the first place? Dusty, that don't make no sense, does it?" answered “Cowboy Boots”.
Dusty joined them. "We got orders."
Jim started to think panicked thoughts. What can I do next? Will they leave us alone, so that we can call for others to help us? Where are the police in this town? But just then he noticed the sickening smell of gasoline and saw smoke rising from below. "What are you doing? Jim cried out. "I've got kids up here."
"You should have been more friendly, friend," said a biker with a fur cape.
"We got orders," repeated Dusty. And with that, they walked out of view. The O’Neill’s heard the engines start up on the road in front of the house. The gang rode off.
The family could now hear fire crackling and see smoke billowing upwards. This can't be happening to us, Jim said to himself. "Kids, we have to pray like we've never prayed before. 'I lift my eyes unto the hills; where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.’ We have to find a way out of here."
"I'll try pounding that door down again," said Jay.
Adrianna stood in one spot with her eyes shut.
Jim began frantically searching the attic for a rope or something to let down to escape out the window.
Suddenly, Adrianna ran to the other end of the attic, above the front door. She began feeling the paneled wall and knocking. She heard a hollow sound in response. All at once, she pushed on the hollow spot and it gave way. The wall shoved open to reveal a stairway leading down. "Dad, Jay!" she cried. "A way out!"
The guys came running over to her and the now-open passage in the wall. Without a word, they scrambled down. The stairs led to a den off the living room. They could feel the heat of the fire, and there was already a lot of smoke on the first floor. Jim ran into the kitchen, where the fire was raging. Scanning the walls for a fire extinguisher, he told the kids to do the same in the living room. He spotted one in the kitchen pantry. Within a few minutes, the fire was out. They opened the doors and windows to let out the smoke. The fire had been contained in the corner of the kitchen nearest the back door. The walls were blackened, but the cupboard was untouched. Even the mousetraps were still awaiting their prey. The back door, though charred, was still working. They went outside and sat on the lawn. Jim held the kids close. For a few minutes no one said a word. Apparently, nobody had seen the fire, because there was no one there to help or to watch. A gentle breeze was blowing on a beautiful summer afternoon. The trees were rustling, the birds were chirping. And the family had just escaped death.
They sang a hymn, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow..." Jim leaned back on his hands and sighed. He looked at Adrianna. "Adrianna, honey, how did you think to do that?"
Adrianna just sat there on the grass with her arms hugging her knees. "God told me. God told me it was there."
Jay said, "You heard Him talk to you?"
"No, I just knew it," she said.
"Pink power," cracked Jay.
"No," said Jim. "God's power."
Later, they began to clean up some of the mess made by the fire. "I hope we don't get blamed for this," said Jim. "We'll have to tell the police what happened."
"But will they believe us?" asked Jay. "We'll have to explain why we were trespassing."
"Before we do, let's explore that secret passageway. We might find some valuable clues," suggested Jim. "These old houses often had secret passageways, especially during Prohibition. We can still get up to the attic. Is the key still up there, Adrianna?"
"No, I have it right here," she said. "I'll keep it safe. I promise."
"What if the bikers come back?" worried Jay.
"I don't plan on exploring for too long. Besides, I think they figure we're toast." He shuddered at the metaphor. They went to the secret staircase. They felt for more hollow walls and steps and looked behind some old pictures hanging along the stairs. "I don't think this will give us any more clues," said Jim.
"Besides, the key is obviously the next clue, and there are no keyholes in here," said Jay. "Maybe the key fits a lock somewhere else on the property."
"We haven't explored the barn," said Adrianna. The barn. None of them had paid much attention to it. It looked pretty run down from the outside. They decided to visit the barn before going to the police. They would most likely not get access after the fire was reported. The barn had been built in the corner of the lot, beyond the oak tree, nearest to the farm field. The family walked over to the door, swishing their feet through the grass that grew wild and tall in this part of the property.
It was a typical barn on the inside. No animals were there, but the vestiges of pens once occupied filled the space. A hayloft sat above the area on one side. There was a lot of hay still present, as if someone planned to begin the farming activities once again. "Anything could be hidden in h
ere," said Jim.
"Under the hay," Jay added. "We should give it a look." He began climbing a ladder leaning against the loft.
Adrianna assigned herself to lookout duty at the door of the barn. Jim started searching through the shelves of old tools and greasy machine parts.
"Hey, I found some old magazines and comic books!" called Jay from up in the loft. "Look at this —, Dick Tracy, True Crime. These are really old and all about gangsters."
"Well, try to keep your head in the game, okay? Remember, we're trying to find something with a keyhole," said Jim.
"You're right, Dad," said Jay. "I'll keep looking."
Adrianna walked over to Jim. "Daddy, do you think those comic books are from Great-Grandpa?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," Jim said as he opened some old, wooden drawers. "He seemed to be fascinated with thugs and the like."
"Where was his daddy? Didn't he tell Great-Grandpa that those people were bad?" asked Adrianna.
Jim replied, "His daddy died when Grandpa Mike was just a little boy. His aunt took him in, and he was in an orphanage for a while."
"That's so sad," said Adrianna as she walked back to her post. Suddenly she saw them. The bikers were back. They were moving around the house, going in and out. She heard a lot of banging and cursing. "Dad, they're back!" she cried, running over to Jim.
"Stay here," said Jim firmly. He ran over to the door. Maybe we could get out and hide in the fields, he thought. The O'Neills’ car was still out in front so the gang would suspect the family was here, and they wouldn't rest until they found them. By now they've found the secret passageway, so we can't hide in there, Jim thought. They had to get to their car before the gang found them in the barn. Jay had come down the ladder, and he was holding what might be the answer to their problem. He had in his hand a 9mm black pistol. Jim came over and took the pistol from Jay. He checked to see if it was loaded. It was. He hadn't seen any of the bikers with a firearm of any kind. He decided to take the risk.
"Okay, kids," he said. "You are going to walk behind me, and we are going to get to the car. Don't run unless I do. We will walk quickly and deliberately through this back door and around the perimeter of the property. Then we will make our way back to the car on the street. I will have the gun out. And if threatened, I will use it."
They left the barn. So far, the bikers were still in the house, yelling and smashing glass. Probably bottles of beer, Jim thought. They walked fast, crouching as low as possible, to the north end of the lot. No one had seen them yet. They took the straight path to the spot on the street. Jim gave the keys to Jay and told him to unlock the car as soon as they got there. He would hold the gun and cover them. They made it to the car. No one had come out of the house. The kids jumped in the back seat. Jim said, "Get down!" The car started and sped down the street.
Jim pulled up to the police station. He and the kids got inside, looking over their shoulders to see if they were being pursued. Once inside, the police officer at the desk asked them if he could help them. "Well, officer, that's a long answer," said Jim. He managed to get the story about Mike O'Neill down to a reasonable length. He explained how they had gone into the house to get out of the rain the day before. He deliberately left out the part about treasure. He mentioned that the house was considered a family homestead and he had been interested in finding anything that could shed light on his grandfather's life here in Sterling. Surprisingly, the cop was understanding. Small town grace thought Jim.
"But officer, we have two incidents that were committed by troublemakers. First of all, someone dug holes all around a tree in the back yard overnight. We had nothing to do with it," explained Jim. The officer looked at Jay. He put his hands up innocently in mock surrender.
"The second incident is much more serious," continued Jim. "This afternoon, a gang of bikers which we encountered in Quincy two days ago, came to the house, locked us in the attic, and set the house on fire."
The policeman stared at Jim. "And how, pray tell, did you get out?"
"We found a secret passage that led to the first floor. We put the fire out, cleaned up, and after a short time, we came here," Jim said.
"A short time?" the cop repeated.
"We spent a short time investigating the barn," answered Jim.
"Investigating," said the officer.
"Yes, we just left, and the gang was still at the house. I think you should go apprehend them immediately," offered Jim.
"Sounds serious. Yes, I'll send out a couple of men. What is the address?" asked the officer.
"256 West Street," replied Jim.
"We'll check it out and then get back to you. Leave your information with our dispatcher," he said. "That's a pretty wild story, Mr. O'Neill. I hope it holds up."
"Maybe you should get out there right away, before they leave," suggested Jim.
"Just let us do our duty, Mr. O'Neill," replied the policeman curtly.
After leaving their information, the family left the station. They walked to the park across the street and sat down. "This has to be safe," offered Jay. "Since it's right across the street from the police station."
"I hope so," said Adrianna.
"How are you doing, honey?" asked Jim.
"I'm tired, and I think I want to go home," she said.
"Don't you want to finish the treasure hunt?" asked Jay.
"I guess so. The diary was right. This is dangerous," said Adrianna.
"The police will protect us, Adrianna. Don't you worry," said Jim. "I think we should head over to the ice cream place down the street. Some chocolate chip cookie dough sounds really good right now." They all agreed that a little perk would lift their spirits. "And keep the faith," Jim said, hugging his daughter. As they set out for the ice cream shop, Jim felt for the pistol in the inside pocket of his jacket. Adrianna checked the felt-wrapped key in hers. Jay pulled out his new, old copy of the Dick Tracy comic book.
"You do still have the key, don't you, Adrianna?" asked Jay.
"Of course, I do," she said. "I hope we can use it soon."
They pulled up to the motel at about seven o’clock that evening. All three were looking forward to the safety of their room and a good night's sleep. As they opened the door to their room, Adrianna could smell the difference. Someone else had been there. She wanted to say something, but it was too late, and the door was opened. There, on the king-sized bed, two bikers perched like birds of prey. "Good evening," said the leader, who sat on one of the chairs.
"How did you get in here?" accused Jim. The three O’Neill’s stood in the doorway. "Get out of our room."
"Not so fast," spoke the leader. He tugged on his earring. "Remember your manners."
"Manners!" yelled Jim. "You tried to kill us today! What do you want from us?"
"We want just want one of two things is all," he said. "If you've found the treasure, we want it. If you haven't found it, we want you to stop looking for it. It's as simple as that," growled the leader. The exhausted children slumped together in the chair next to the door. Jim continued to confront the man.
"Who's put you up to this? You've got orders, I heard. Who do you work for?" questioned Jim.
"Well, wouldn't you like to know. The treasure belongs to us, you see. And yes, the man we work for," said the biker.
"This treasure can't be much. Why do you want it so bad? How did you get the rights to it?" asked Jim.
"Well, that's some story. We are Quants. We are powerful. But the man who we work for is more powerful still. We serve a long tradition of raiders. A proud tradition of men who stand up for what's right. We take what is ours. We mete out punishment. This treasure was taken by our leader, the greatest raider of all. It was lost, but we knew someone would find it. That someone turned out to be you and your family."
"How did you know I was interested in the treasure?" asked Jim.
"You knew a nosy reporter. She got wind of it somehow and published a story on it. Somebody read it. They asked her nicely to reveal
her source, but she refused. We gave her a lot of chances to tell us her source. But she still refused. Stubborn lady. She was supposed to be threatened. We tried to scare her into talking, but it went wrong. But we found out who it was."
Jim knew he was talking about Anne. He grimaced at the terrible truth. He didn't think the kids would put two and two together. At least not yet. This is a perfect nightmare, he said to himself. He felt sick. "All right," he said. "I will not look for this treasure anymore. No amount of wealth is worth the agony that you have put me through."
"Okay, then, hand over any clues you have," the leader snarled.
"What clues? I don't have any clues. I reached a dead end. I don't know anything," Jim pleaded.
The leader looked at Adrianna and Jay. "We have two witnesses here. I bet they can testify if their dad is telling the truth or lying."
The kids looked at Jim. Then they looked at this man with the gray ponytail and fur cape. Both were thinking the same thoughts — their dad was in trouble, and they had to help him. Jay spoke up, "My father doesn't know anything. Please leave him alone. We'll go home and never bother about the treasure again."
"All right," said the leader. "I'm satisfied. Little missy here doesn't have to say anything."
Jim breathed a sigh of relief. This could be over now. There was the incredible pain of Anne's death, but he could salvage what was left of his family and his life. "Will you please leave us, then?" he asked.
"Sure, sure. In the morning — no, now — we expect to see your car gone. In fact, we'll give you an escort out of town tonight," said the leader.
"Wait a minute. The police said they'd get in touch with me and I'm sure I can't leave under those circumstances. They want to check out the damage at the house on West Street," answered Jim.
"All taken care of," said the leader. "We know someone." It was a chilling echo of what Great-Grandpa had always bragged. Was Jim's ancestor just like these men?
The bikers got up slowly and looked around the room. The one with the "Q" T-shirt said, "Nice place you got here. Too bad you have to leave so soon." He laughed. Jim wanted to ask if the "Q" on his shirt didn't stand for Quincy, but he thought he'd better keep his mouth shut.
Treasures of Darkness Box Set Page 3
