Until Dark - Mariah Stewart [97]
“Chief, I think I know how he got in. You may want to keep him”—she nodded toward the photographer—“here for a few.”
Logan called to the photographer to wait up, then turned back to Kendra and said, “Go on.”
“Well, you know the stories about this house being a stop on the Underground Railroad . . .”
“As many of the houses back here were,” he nodded.
“There used to be a tunnel that went from our barn into the basement. There’s a trap door in the basement floor.”
“Show me . . .”
The steps going down into the basement of Smith House were narrow and steep, only one of a number of reasons why Kendra almost never ventured down. The floor of raised wood planks had been built over years ago by Kendra’s grandfather, but prior to that bit of modernization, the floor had been dirt. Smith House, like others in the area, still took in water during heavy storms. The floor, elevated several inches off the dirt, had always reminded Kendra of a boardwalk.
One light hung in the center of the ceiling, but it shed little illumination in the dark, windowless area. Logan turned on his flashlight, shined it around the perimeter, which followed only the later additions to the house.
“Where would this trapdoor be?” Chief Logan asked.
“In the corner on the right.” Kendra walked carefully across the wood floor to the far corner. “Here. The boards lift . . .”
She bent down to grab hold of the boards, and Logan stopped her.
“Let me get one of the men upstairs to open it up. I don’t want your fingerprints on anything down here that they’re not already on.”
Two more agents and one of the local detectives responded to Logan’s call for assistance. With gloved hands, the detective lifted the trapdoor where Kendra pointed, and shined his flashlight down into the hole. A wooden ladder descended several feet into the earth.
“Let’s see where this leads . . .” he said as he lowered himself onto the ladder.
“I’m with you.” One of the agents followed.
“Do you remember where in the barn this comes out?” Logan asked.
“Someplace near the back wall, there used to be a door there that opened out right onto the creek. I guess so that the runaways could get out of the canoes and just slip right in the back. Years ago, after one of the fires, the barn was rebuilt slightly closer to the house, and the back door was omitted. I never went into the tunnel. It was too dark and confined and I didn’t like the idea of what could be down there with me,” she laughed nervously, “but yes, I know where the door is. I’ll show you.”
Chief Logan and one of the FBI agents followed Kendra out to the barn, cautioning her to wait outside until they confirmed that no one was hiding inside.
“If someone is in there, they won’t be hard to spot,” she told them as she stood aside the open door. “There’s nothing in there to hide behind. There used to be stalls, but after the last fire they weren’t rebuilt.”
The area declared safe, Kendra stepped inside and went directly to a section where scattered straw still covered the floor.
“At one time, a long time ago, my family had goats. There wasn’t enough grass to support cows here, but there was plenty for the goats to eat.” With the shoe of one foot, she kicked at the straw. “It should be right around here. There’s a broom on the wall there.”
She went to lift it and the agent stopped her. Drawing on a pair of gloves, he took the broom and swept in the area she’d designated. A square cut into the floor emerged, and he lifted it to expose a dark hole similar to the one in the basement. He turned on his flashlight, then called to the men who’d gone in from the basement side. A call in response came from the bottom of the hole.
“The floor is dirt,” the detective reported as he raised himself from the ladder, “and covered with footprints. Someone has definitely been down there recently.”
“So you trampled them good, I suppose.” Logan looked pained.
“We tried to walk along the sides of the tunnel to preserve as much as we could,” the detective said. “There are plenty to get impressions from.”
“Then let’s get the team in here