Chapter 3 - The Woman at the River
I spent the rest of the night inside the equipment shed.
At dawn, I crawled beneath an old tractor and watched Robert's truck leave the farm.
Elias followed.
Neither man saw me.
I waited another hour before returning to the farmhouse.
Every door was locked.
Nothing looked disturbed.
Except my bedroom.
My mattress had been sliced open.
Clothes were thrown across the floor.
My laptop was gone.
They had searched for something.
Something they believed I had found.
I called the sheriff.
Deputy Mason arrived twenty minutes later.
He was younger than I expected, maybe thirty-five, and tired enough that his coffee looked more important than his badge.
“Robert said you were thinking about leaving,” he said.
“I didn't tell Robert that.”
“He said you were upset.”
“Robert also searched my bedroom.”
Mason looked around.
“Did you see him do it?”
“No.”
“Then legally, I can't accuse him.”
I stared at him.
“My grandfather disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“There is a secret tunnel under his barn.”
He paused.
“What?”
I told him everything.
His expression changed.
“Show me.”
We drove to the barn.
The third stall was open.
The floorboard was still loose.
Mason climbed down first.
Five minutes later he returned.
“There is no tunnel.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
The hidden room was gone.
The steel door was gone.
Everything had vanished.
The concrete passage had been filled with dirt.
Fresh dirt.
Someone had sealed it overnight.
Mason crouched near the opening.
“There are tire tracks back here.”
He rubbed his fingers over the dirt.
“This happened recently.”
“Then you believe me.”
“I believe someone has been on this property.”
He stood.
“That isn't the same thing.”
Then he looked toward the river.
“What's across there?”
“Nothing. Old timberland.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Your grandfather had a hunting cabin?”
“On the north side.”
“Did anyone search it?”
“Sheriff did.”
“Six months ago?”
“Yes.”
Mason studied the river.
“Let's go.”
We crossed the pasture.
At the riverbank, we found a set of footprints.
Fresh.
Women's boots.
Mason drew his gun.
“Stay behind me.”
We followed them into the trees.
Twenty minutes later, we found the cabin.
The door was open.
Inside was dust, mold, and an old cast-iron stove.
Nobody had lived there for years.
Or nobody wanted us to think they had.
Under the table was a medical bottle.
Fresh prescription.
Three weeks old.
Mason read the label.
“Evelyn Mercer.”
I frowned.
“Who is that?”
Mason stared at me.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he looked outside.
Someone was standing among the trees.
A woman.
Gray hair.
Green coat.
The same woman who had knocked on my door.
She turned and disappeared.
Mason ran.
I followed.
She wasn't there.
Only a folded piece of paper remained against a tree.
I opened it.
COME ALONE. OLD MILL. SUNSET.
Underneath was another sentence.
YOUR GRANDFATHER IS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO DISAPPEARED.
Mason took the paper from my hand.
“I don't like this.”
“You don't have to.”
“Hannah.”
“I have to go.”
He looked at me for several seconds.
“Then I am going with you.”
At sunset, we drove to the abandoned mill.
Nobody was there.
We waited.
Then a flashlight appeared through the broken windows.
The woman stepped inside.
She looked older up close.
Maybe sixty-five.
Her eyes were sharp.
“You brought the deputy.”
“He came on his own.”
She looked at Mason.
“Can you keep a secret?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Good answer.”
She faced me.
“My name is Evelyn Mercer.”
I remembered the prescription.
“Were you living in my grandfather's cabin?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because Henry asked me to.”
Mason stepped forward.
“Where is Henry?”
Evelyn's expression broke.
“He tried to get me out.”
“Out of what?”
She looked at me.
“Twenty-seven years ago, Henry discovered what Redwood was doing beneath this land.”
“What?”
“They weren't buying farms.”
She lowered her voice.
“They were cleaning up a crime.”
The mill suddenly creaked.
Evelyn grabbed my arm.
“Did you hear that?”
We froze.
Something moved upstairs.
Mason raised his weapon.
A shot exploded through the darkness.
Evelyn screamed.
Mason shoved me behind a machine.
A second shot.
Then silence.
When we looked up, Evelyn was gone.
Only one thing remained where she had been standing.
A blood-covered envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Hannah Walker.
May you like
And beneath it:
OPEN ONLY AFTER YOU HEAR THE FOURTH KNOCK.
