Page 91 of Pepper, the Biker & the Vanishing Body

My mom smiled. “I’m so glad you joined the historical society, Amy. You’re going to be a real asset.”

“Okay, enough talk,” I said, eager to get started. “Let’s find that secret passageway.”

After we entered the Mercantile, my mom locked the door behind us.

“So, we won’t be disturbed,” she said before eyeing me knowingly. “You should probably let Ian and Beau know what you’re up to.”

“We texted them,” Amy said. “They’re in the middle of a shoot, probably with their phones off.”

“I should text your dad,” my mom said.

“Not yet, Mom,” I said quickly. If Stone really was an undercover agent, my dad would probably have to notify him, and then he’d take over. That wasn’t happening. “Let’s see what we find first.”

With flashlights blaring, we made our way down to the basement.

Amy shivered. “It’s creepier than I remember.”

Which was her way of saying,I regret everything, and I want out.

“You’ll be fine,” I encouraged.

Of course, that was when a rat decided to make an appearance.

“No. Nope. Nada,” Amy declared, stopping dead in her tracks. “I am not stepping off these stairs.”

“I’ll stay with Amy to keep her calm,” my mom said, switching on her phone’s flashlight. “And how are you not afraid of rats, Pepper?”

“Three brothers who enjoyed tormenting and teasing me,” I said simply. “Now shine your lights around the room.”

The bright beams sent the rats scurrying, their tiny claws scratching against the stone floor. I scanned the walls, searching for any section that might conceal a hidden door.

“There’s nothing here, Pepper,” Amy said, hugging herself. “No sign of an entrance.”

I shook my head. “I know I’m right about this.”

My mom sighed. “Unfortunately… she usually is.”

Cringing, Amy bravely stepped off the stairs. “Then let’s hurry up and check the walls so we can leave.”

I knew she’d push past her fear. She always did.

“Watch out for that rat!” my mom screeched.

Amy jumped back with a startled yelp, while the rat, apparently equally terrified, darted toward the wall and squeezed its fat little body between two stones.

I grinned. “I think you just found it, Mom.”

Rushing over, I ran my hands along the edges of the stone, feeling for any give. Amy, despite her better judgment, joined me, and together we pried it open. The metal hinges groaned with rust, and the passage yawned before us—a dark, cavernous hole that exhaled an earthy, musty scent.

I aimed my flashlight inside, and the darkness seemed to stretch forever.

Turning to my mom, I said, “Go to the cemetery and do whatever you have to do to convince Dan to open the Willow Mausoleum. I’ll meet you there.”

Before she could protest, I stepped inside.

I glanced over my shoulder. “Up to you, Amy. Go with Mom or come with me.”

Amy let out a heavy sigh—the kind that carried the weight of every bad decision she had ever made.

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