Page 79 of S.O.S. Mizzay

“You got it,” Missy assured him. “I’ll snap more pictures of anything remotely suspicious, and if I find a computer or computers…?”

Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of thumb-drives. “Take a few of these. Download from any hard-drives you see.”

“Smart.” Missy grabbed some of the small storage devices, then went off to explore while Chuck did the same.

By the time she’d cleared the third room, Missy was incredulous.

How many big screen TV’s does one man need, she asked herself? There were actually two in his living room alone. Expensive crap lay everywhere; watches, gold chains, every device known to man still in boxes that read, “As Seen on TV”. If it all hadn’t been placed in such an orderly fashion, she’d say that Oliphant was a hoarder, but “too much money to burn” was closer to hitting the nail on the head where his spending was concerned.

Missy opened every drawer and looked under each piece of furniture. She explored closets, glanced behind pictures forpossible hidden safes, and scuffed up area-rugs looking for hidey-holes in the floor.

Nothing.

Frustrated, she went to the bottom of the stairs just as Chuck was coming down.

“Find anything?” he asked.

“Nope,” she responded. “No computers, no caches of paperwork, nada.”

“Same,” he grunted.

“Is there an attic?” she pondered.

“Yeah. I pulled down the stairs and went up for a quick look, but the place is only home to insulation and mouse droppings.”

“Nice.”Not.“I may have to skip that.”

They traded places, did their thing, then reconvened on the first floor where they confirmed each other’s non-findings.

“Basement, then?” Missy asked.

“It’s the only option left,” Chuck agreed, and without conferring, they walked directly to a door that they’d clearly both opened during their independent searches; where they’d seen the stairs leading down.

Missy went first, and Chuck followed.

Unlike the rest of the house, the basement was…plain. And sparse.

There was a washer and dryer against one wall, with a few items of clothing and some towels folded neatly on top. On one side of the large, open area, stood a workbench with some basic tools. The water heater and furnace took up a minimal amount of space, and a bunch of clothing in plastic bags hanging on a long rack against one wall was the only other thing down there at all.

The floor was cement, as were the walls.

It looked like they’d hit another dead end, but…

Missy’s brain suddenly sparked to life. “The upstairs footprint is larger on that side of the house than the basement appears to be,” she said, pointing toward the hanging clothes.

“Fake wall?” Chuck questioned, his eyebrows raised.

“Let’s hope so.” Missy walked over to the area in question and shoved the clothing aside.

Cinderblocks.

At first glance, the wall of masonry didn’t look like anything too suspect, except that the rest of the basement was made from poured concrete.

“Why would this one wall be block-construction?” she pondered.

“Look.” Smalley pointed to a seam that didn’t quite match up. “Maybe it’s not a real wall.”

“A secret room? You think?” Missy marveled. “That’s right out of a dumb spy movie.”

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