A Catered Wedding (22 page)

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Authors: Isis Crawford

BOOK: A Catered Wedding
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Libby looked again. She couldn't figure out why her sister was doing what she was. She didn't see anything. And then as she kept staring she realized that the ground did look a little bit different. More solid? Maybe. And the texture was different from dirt. So was the color. Somehow it was more uniform.
Then Bernie was fumbling around.
“Where did that come from?” she asked as she watched Bernie grab hold of something and pull it up.
It was a ring. The ring was brown like the dirt. Libby reflected she could have tripped over it and she never would have seen it. She'd just have assumed she'd stumbled over a tree root.
Bernie moved a little ways back. And pulled. Suddenly the earth began to move.
“Oh my God!” Libby yelled. Then she clapped her hands over her mouth. She couldn't believe she'd just yelled like that.
“Look at that,” Bernie said, pointing at the hole in the ground that had suddenly appeared.
“What is it?” Libby whispered.
Bernie chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment before replying.
“If I'm not mistaken,” she said, “and I don't think I am, this is a passageway to the Raid Estate.”
Libby took a step forward. The whole thing seemed surreal.
“I bet that's how Leeza's killer got out of the house without being seen,” she said. “He just stepped out, called Leeza, then waited for her to arrive.”
Bernie stood up and brushed the dirt from her hands and her skirt. “And then he closed the entrance and brushed the dirt over it. Leeza would never have noticed.”
“And it was raining,” Libby said. “So any footprints would have been washed away.”
Chapter 22
“Y
ou can stay out here,” Bernie told Libby as she moved the cover a little over to the left. “You don't have to go in if you don't want to.”
“No. I want to,” Libby said.
She could feel Bernie's eyes appraising her.
“Really?' she said.
“Really,” Libby replied.
“Because it'll probably be cramped,” Bernie warned.
“I'll be fine,” Libby told her.
At least she hoped she would be. Even though she was scared to death she had to go. She realized she was tired of being afraid. Anyway, what would she say to her dad if anything happened to Bernie? That she hated the dark? That she didn't like closed in places? She peered down the steps. They seemed really, really steep.
“How did you know about this?” she asked Bernie. “I never would have made the connection.”
Bernie was drumming her fingers on her thighs. “Remember right after Leeza's death, Bree Notthingham was in the store and she told us that the Raid house was an exact copy of the estate built in England for Lord . . .” Bernie stopped. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten his name. “Well, you know who I mean.”
“Of course,” Libby replied. Actually she didn't have the slightest idea.
Bernie snapped her fingers. “Lord Chesterton-Wilkes. Anyway, I knew when Bree was talking about the place that there was something, but I couldn't remember exactly what it was.
“I should have though. It's a well-known fact that lots of those old estates had escape passages built into them. It wasn't an uncommon thing at all. And when you said that thing about the squirrels—I don't know—suddenly everything clicked and I remembered that this was one of the houses that did.”
“Is there anything you don't know?” Libby asked her.
“Hmm.” Bernie thought. “How to balance my checkbook. How to tell north from south. Stuff like that. Actually,” Bernie confided, “the only reason I know is because this guy I was going out with for a while told me about it. Chad was a set designer and he was doing lots of research on secret passages in old castles and manors for a project he was working on. That was the one that slept with his nine-foot Burmese python in his bed by the way.”
“I don't think you told me about that one. I would have remembered about the snake,” Libby murmured as she considered the stairs. They seemed to disappear into nothingness.
“Anyway, this was one of the houses he was researching. I actually saw blue prints. He'd gotten a copy faxed to him from some library in England. The perks of working in the movies. You could be a secretary for someone at Miramax and everyone bows down and kisses your toes.”
“Must be nice.” Libby could feel her mouth drying up. She knew that if she could just keep focused on other things she'd be fine. “So where does the passage lead?” she asked Bernie.
“I think into a study on the first floor. But I'm not exactly sure. Reading blue prints is another thing I can't do.” Then she added, “Maybe we shouldn't do this now. Maybe we should just go back to the store and tell Dad.”
Libby knew Bernie wanted to go down there, that she was saying that because of her. “Just get the flashlight in my backpack,” Libby told her.
What did her father say about fear anywhere is fear everywhere. If she didn't start expanding her horizons now, she never would.
“I can get Rob and sneak back in.”
“No,” Libby said. “I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“I'm not a friggin' basket case,” Libby snapped.
Bernie held up her hands. Like she'd said. Snarky. “Okay.” And she started for the van.
“And bring back some cookies too,” Libby called after her. Something told her she was going to need them.
 
 
There were five steps going down. Not as many as Libby thought there would be. But they were slippery and steep. In a way, Libby decided later they were the worst part because you didn't know what to expect. Once she was in the tunnel it was a little easier. First of all there were lights overhead that gave off a very low level of illumination. You still needed the flashlights, but still it was better then none at all. At least if the batteries gave out, you wouldn't be left alone in total darkness.
Just breathe
, Libby kept telling herself as she followed behind Bernie. God, was she glad she'd had two flashlights in her backpack. The tunnel was very narrow. If Libby moved her arms away from her sides her fingers touched the walls. The material they were made out of felt cold and a little damp which made Libby think about being underground and about a horror movie she'd seen when she was little about being buried alive.
She could feel her heart start to beat very fast.
No, no,
she told herself.
Think of a field. Think of sunlight.
She felt Bernie squeeze her hand. “Some of these tunnels go on for miles,” she told her. “A lot of them went under moats so when the castle was under siege, the lord and his people could slip out and get away.”
For once Libby was glad to hear Bernie chattering away. “Pretty remarkable when you think about the engineering that must have been involved. In fact I heard of one tunnel in a pub somewhere in Wiltshire that connects to a boy's school close by. I bet the guys loved that.”
Libby managed to get the words, “I bet they did,” out of her throat.
“You and Marvin looked pretty cozy at the picnic.” Bernie poked her in the ribs. “He really, really likes you, you know.”
“I know,” Libby heard herself saying.
“And you're beginning to like him a little too. Come on, admit it,” Bernie said when Libby didn't reply. “Well?”
“Okay. Just a little,” Libby admitted.
“Told ya you would if you gave him a chance,” Bernie said.
“Dad doesn't like him,” Libby said suddenly.
“Dad won't like anyone you go out with,” Bernie told her.
“Why?”
Libby could hear Bernie laugh.
“Because you remind him of Mom of course.
“He makes Marvin nervous.”
“He makes everyone nervous.”
Libby cleared her throat. “Marvin doesn't try and kiss me or anything,” she found herself saying to Bernie. For once she was glad it was dark. That way Bernie couldn't see her flushing.
“He's just very shy. Maybe you have to make the first move.”
“But what if he says no,” Libby demanded.
“He won't,” Bernie said.
“I would die if he did,” Libby replied.
“He's not going to. I'll bet you a facial on it,” Bernie said as she played her flashlight ahead of them. “Why would he? He's liked you since you were twelve.”
Then all thoughts of Marvin fled as Libby saw a wall. They were coming to the end of the tunnel. Her heart started beating rapidly again. She began feeling dizzy. “Maybe we should go back,” she said.
Bernie patted her on the arm. “It'll be fine,” she said. “You'll see.”
“But what happens if someone is in there?” Libby whispered.
“I'll open the door very slowly.”
“But . . .” Libby began.
“No. We came this far. Let's finish the job.”
Libby wasn't sure whether she said the word okay or just thought it but the next thing she knew Bernie was telling her to hold her flashlight higher. Libby watched as she pushed on a door. It made a very loud creak. Libby held her breath. Bernie pushed a little bit more. A ray of light flooded into the tunnel.
Libby closed her eyes.
Please don't anyone be there
, she prayed. If there isn't I'll bring two batches of cookies to the homeless shelter this week. She could hear Bernie opening the door a little bit more.
Then she heard Bernie say, “It's all right.”
Libby opened her eyes. Bernie was standing in the opening of the passageway. Then she stepped out into the room. A moment later Libby followed.
“I don't think we've been in here,” she said looking around.
The room was much smaller than some of the ones they'd seen and definitely less grand. In fact, it looked like what it was. An office. It looked like a place where people actually did some work, Libby decided.
The walls were painted an off-white and there was light green carpet on the floor. A large rosewood desk and black leather office chair sat in the middle of the room. On it sat a laptop and a printer. There was a phone off to the left and a coffee mug filled with pens and pencils next to that as well as a stack of yellows pads.
On either side of the desk were two wooden file drawers. From what Libby could see, the walls were covered with framed articles about Raid Enterprises. A bookshelf stacked with copies of newspapers and magazines flanked the left-hand wall. Three chairs were placed near it.
Bernie tapped her fingers against her thighs as she looked around the room.
“I wonder if this is Jura's office?”
“Who cares?” Libby replied. “I think we should go. I think we should go right now.”
The fact the windows to the right offered a view of the front of the house added to her unease. After all, she reasoned, if she could see out, anyone passing by could see in. Which in this case would be less than desirable. Even Bernie wouldn't be able to talk her way out of that situation.
But instead of heading back to the tunnel Libby was appalled to see Bernie walking over to the desk and sitting down in the chair behind the desk.
“What are you doing?” Libby demanded.
Bernie indicated the filing cabinet. “I thought I'd just take a quick peek through the files.”
“You're nuts,” Libby hissed.
Bernie scowled at her.
“You're the one that's always talking about efficiency.”
“So?”
“So it seems a pity to have gone through everything we did and turn around and leave.”
“All we did was walk through a tunnel,” Libby was surprised to hear herself saying. “And I was talking about baking three kinds of cookies from the same dough when I was talking about efficiency. I wasn't talking about breaking and entering. Are you going to answer me?” she demanded as Bernie opened one of the file drawers and started going through the files.
“This would go faster if you would take the other drawer,” she told Libby without lifting her head. “But you can suit yourself.”
Libby tightened her fists. Now, she told herself, was not the time to lose her temper. She could do that later. At length. Back at the store.
“What do you want me to look for?” she asked between clenched teeth. If she didn't help Bernie they'd be here even longer.
Bernie kept thumbing through the files as she talked. “Anything interesting.”
“Interesting meaning what specifically?”
“Meaning anything that seems germane to Leeza or the brothers of course.”
“Of course,” Libby repeated. She was about to say something else but then she realized that the quicker she got this done, the faster they'd get out of here.
She went and pulled a chair over and began glancing through the files. They seemed to be mostly contracts of one sort or another.
“There's nothing here that I can see,” she told Bernie as she opened a folder marked insurance.
Bernie nodded. “I can't find anything either, but keep looking.”
Libby did. Everything that she was coming across had to do with household expenses. Everything was itemized down to the last roll of toilet paper. And Bernie thought she was bad about that kind of stuff. But at least he paid his staff a living wage, even if it was on the low end of the spectrum.
Libby had finished the first drawer and was almost at the end of the second one when she heard Bernie say, “I found something.”
But before she could ask what she heard footsteps in the hallway outside.
“Damn,” Bernie cried.
Libby watched as her sister took the folder out of the bottom file cabinet drawer, and then shoved it closed with the flat of her hand. The drawer slammed shut. Surely the people in the hall had to have heard it, Libby decided about the same time she realized Bernie was speaking to her.
“Come on,” her sister was saying. “We've got to get out of here.”
Yes, they did,
Libby thought.
And she wanted to do what Bernie was telling her. But for some reason her legs didn't seem to be working. Bernie grabbed her arm and yanked. Libby felt her legs begin to move. But she couldn't take her eyes off the door. The voices on the other side of it seemed to be getting louder.

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