Page 45 of Donovan Blake: Passion

“Like this,” he replied, lightly bouncing on one after another. “Ah! This is loose. Go into that kitchen and see what you can find to pry it up.”

“Like a knife?”

“Yes, but it has to be strong.”

As she hurried away and Donovan tried to place his fingernails along the edges, he spotted small chips.

His heart skipped.

“I found a few things, including two long, flathead screwdrivers,” she exclaimed, walking quickly toward him.

“I found something too. Look at these old markings.”

Kneeling beside him she stared at the scratches made many years before when the plank had been moved.

“This is so exciting,” she muttered as he picked up a screwdriver.

“If nothing else, hopefully this will break away the wood bit by bit until it makes a hole, then I can get it wedged and try to lift the board.”

“That should work. Can I do anything to help?”

“Sure, use that other one and do the same thing.”

The painstaking chore did exactly what Donovan had hoped, and faster than he expected. But before trying to raise the board, he picked up one of the steel blades, ran it along the sides, and pounded it in where the wood had swollen.

“Okay, let’s give this a try,” he exclaimed, placing his screwdriver in the hole he’d dug out. Phoebe did the same, and together they tried to lift the board. Though it took awhile it started to give, then suddenly popped out. Donovan hastily withdrew his small but powerful flashlight from his pocket and shone into the dark space.

“Do you see anything?” Phoebe asked urgently.

“I sure do. A pouch.”

“Really? Oh, my gosh.”

Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around it and gently lifted it from its dark grave.

“This is incredible,”

“Hold it while I—”

“Are you kidding? I have to see what’s in it.”

“Wait…it’s been down there for decades. It has to be handled with care or it could fall apart, and you might get a nasty surprise.”

“Like what?”

“Spiders and other creepy crawlies.”

“Oh…never mind,” she muttered, hastily placing the pouch on the floor next to her.

“Yes, I see something,” he continued, squinting as he studied the shallow depths, then stretching out, he moved his arm into the space. “I can just reach it…there…okay…I have it.” Slowly straightening up he stared down at the envelope, then brushed away the dirt. “It’s addressed to someone named Julie Pemberton, 42 Bluebottle Lane, Hampshire. I have a feeling this will tell us everything we need to know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Sitting together in the library, Donovan, Peter and Phoebe, stared at the unopened pouch and envelope on the coffee table. Peter had texted Jane to meet them and said it was important, but she hadn’t responded.

“The letter or pouch first?” Peter asked solemnly.

“Letter,” Donovan said with a sigh. “It will probably tell us about the pouch anyway.”

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