“Except—” his gaze narrowed “—some newer doors, like this one, are called hollow core. They’re mostly hollow on the inside with just a little wood here and there for holding the whole thingtogether.” He ran his fingers along the edge, between the floor and the bottom of the door. Then he stood, went for the ladder they’d been using and stationed it next to the door. He climbed up and inspected the top.
“Anything?”
The smile that spread across his face answered the question. “There’s wood, maybe an inch or so thick, typically across the top and bottom for stability. But a section has been removed here.” He tapped the top. “Very carefully removed.”
“Do you see anything in there?” Her pulse started to beat faster. It was about time they got a break.
Using the forefingers of both hands, he probed the space, eventually pulling out a plastic bag that had been taped inside. “Not your typical hiding place,” he noted, “but certainly effective.”
Apparently nothing about her parents had been typical.
He stepped down from the ladder and passed her the plastic slide bag. Allie settled on the bed and opened it. A white envelope folded over photographs was all that it contained.
Heart racing at the possibilities, she shuffled through the photographs. There were three couples total, all three in one photo, one or two in each of the others. Her parents and two other couples she didn’t recognize. The photos appeared to have been taken during outings or get-togethers of some sort. Their clothing was casual…smiles on their faces.
“Let me see that again.” Steve pointed to one of the photos she held.
She passed it to him. It was a photograph of a couple she didn’t recognize. She stared at the remaining three. Why would these be hidden so carefully? What was the relevance of the photos? Location? The people? There were no objects in the setting that appeared wrong or out of place. Were they playing some private couples’ sex game they feared these photos wouldpoint to? Allie didn’t see how. They all looked completely innocent to her.
“This—” Steve tapped the man in the photo “—guy looks familiar.”
Allie leaned closer and studied the face. “Wait. You’re right. I think maybe…”
She got to her feet. “I need my laptop.”
Steve was right behind her as she hurried to her office. She opened her laptop and pulled up the most recent file she’d sent to her email. She’d saved what she was able to find on Thomas Madison there.
The row of images were from Madison’s career at Ledwell over the years. She pointed to the oldest photo, where he appeared the youngest. “That’s him.”
The man in the photos—in two of the photos found in her parents’ hidden place—was a younger Thomas Madison.
Her gaze settled on Steve’s. “He and my parents were friends.”
Steve pointed to the photo. “Is the woman his wife? A girlfriend?”
“His wife died three years ago.” She selected another photo in the file. The woman pictured there certainly looked very much like the one in the photo. Older, of course. “It could be her.”
“What have you found about her?” He shifted his attention to her laptop.
“Her name was Jane. Maiden name Talbert. Died three years ago.” She shrugged. “That’s it.”
Another dead end.
“Do a search on Talbert. See if she has any surviving family.”
A few clicks of the keys and lines of search results spilled onto the screen. “Here we go.” Allie selected the one for Jane Talbert in Woodstock, which helped to narrow the results significantly considering the size of her little town.
Steve leaned toward the screen, a hand braced on her desk, while he read over her shoulder. She wished she could claim not to be affected by his nearness—this certainly wasn’t the time—but she was undeniably affected. Warmth spread through her body. He made her feel…safe…alive.
“Father is deceased,” he said, his jaw so close to her cheek. “No mention of her mother.”
Allie forced herself to focus on the screen. She opened another tab and tapped on the obituary for Jane Talbert Madison listed on the new webpage. “No children. The obit mentions no surviving family at all other than her husband, Thomas Madison.” Allie frowned. “But her mother’s name isn’t mentioned. Just the names of her father and siblings, who died before her. I suppose it could have been an oversight.”
“Let’s have a look at any property owned by Jane or her father,” Steve suggested.
Allie opened another tab and went to the official county property search site. A few taps of the keys later and she had just one listing on screen. The property was different from the one listed as Thomas Madison’s home. A look into transfers and Allie figured out it was the property owned by the wife’s father that she had inherited more than thirty years ago. Again, no mention of her mother.
“She inherited this property about five years before my parents died,” Allie noticed, saying as much out loud.
