Page 54 of Our Darkest Summer
Kevin’s grandfather’soffice sat in the same stillness, my parents’ bedroom did in the lake house. The blinds were shut, leaving only a small gap at the bottom of the window for the light to enter and illuminate the dusty floorboards. Deducing from the musky smell it has been untouched for a while now.
Kinsley turned on the flashlight on her phone, and moved it around the space. Two filing cabinets, a big wooden desk, and a bookshelf sat in the otherwise empty room.
“How did your grandfather die?” she asked, with that restless curiosity of hers while opening the taller cabinet drawers one by one. I walked to the desk, monitoring what was left on it. Photos of Kevin, an empty mug and a few pens.
“Heart attack, almost two years ago,” Kevin answered, following Kinsley with his eyes. “I don’t think anyone has been in here since then.”
Kinsley turned away from the cabinet. “I’m sorry,” she said to Kevin, who was still standing in the doorway.
“Thanks.”
There was a moment of silence before Kinsley started opening the rest of the drawers, flipping through the folders inside.
“What are we looking for exactly?” Connor observed the bookshelf, his hand resting on his hips.
“Anything with our mom’s name on it,” I answered, pulling the first drawer out of the desk.
I lifted out the pile of papers lying inside and skimmed through them. Nothing. None of them had anything to do with police work.
“And anything from 2009,” Kinsley added. “You can never know how things or people connect.”
I stilled. Not because of what Kinsley said, but because of what I noticed under the drawers. The varnished surface of the desk was matted at one place. My hand slid to the dark wood and I pushed it inside, only slightly but it was enough for it to shift. There was a low click as it released and the panel opened.
People hide things in the walls,that’s what Kinsley said a few days ago. I kneeled into the dust and stuck my fingers into the hole, touching something cold. Something heavier than I first expected. I pulled it out and put it down on the almost empty desk. The loud thump it landed with on the wood made the others turn their heads in my direction. I sat onto the old leather chair eyeing the keypad on the briefcase shaped fire safe.
“What is that?” Connor asked as they gathered around me.
“A fire safe.” It was Kinsley who answered. “My dad had one when I was little. You store important documents in them.”
“I suspect there’s no chance you know the code.” I looked up at Kevin, who made an unsure face.
“Try my birthday,” he said. “June 17.”
I put in the four digits,0617.Nothing.
Connor typed something into his phone. “This brand has a six-digit security code.”
Great.
“Do you have any other ideas?” Kinsley asked.
“Maybe add my birth year?061799. Or his?” Kevin counted back. “101453. I think.”
They didn’t work either.
“It could be anything,” Kinsley sighed, walking around the room. “An important case number, his badge number…what about your grandmother? When did they get married?”
Kevin glared at the ceiling, his brows knitting. “I’ve no idea. I’ll have to ask my dad.”
“Can’t we just force it open?” Connor asked, leaning closer to the safe and knocking on it. “I mean in movies?—”
“It’s designed to be unbreakable.” I shook my head.
“Well, we could still try.”
So to Connor’s suggestion, we did try to pry it open. Using a screwdriver and a hammer everyone gave it a go, but it was no use.
“We could…throw it off the roof.” Connor shrugged, brushing his damped hair out of his forehead.
