Sea of Dreams (The American Heroes Series Book 2) (13 page)

Beck was very definitive where he wanted to go for dinner but since it was only three in the afternoon, the girls simply weren’t hungry yet.  More than that, Charlotte had missed her nap and she was growing very grumpy.  Blakesley made the call to go to the house so the girls could see it, and also so she could see how successful the contractor had been in clearing out the fireplace in the family wing.  It would kill some time and give the girls a chance to see their new home.

The contractors were just starting to pack up when they pulled into the long, tree-shrouded driveway.  There were squirrels running around on the overrun grounds, and Cadee and Crosby were excited as they spied the rodents.  Charlotte had fallen asleep in her car seat and when Blakesley pulled the car to a stop in front of the mirror-image wings, Nikki volunteered to stay with Charlotte.  Cadee and Crosby gladly bailed out of the car along with Blakesley and Beck.   Crosby ran towards the public wing while Cadee walked up calmly beside her mother and held her hand.

“Crosby!” Blakesley called after her daughter. “Stop when you get to the front door!”

Crosby,  curly blond hair waving behind her like a banner, streaked across the driveway, the rocky yard area surrounding the public wing, and came to a halt on the very old porch.  She hung all over the old, rusty wrought iron banisters that hugged the exterior staircase.

“Mommy!” she yelled. “ Where does this go?”

She was pointing up the stairs.  “Up to some rooms,” Blakesley told her. “Get off the banisters, please. They’re very dirty.”

Crosby climbed off but not right away.  She lingered just to reinforce to her mother that the woman couldn’t tell her what to do.  Beck watched the spunky little girl, trying not to grin at her, as he followed Blakesley and Cadee to the front door.  Just as Blakesley opened the front door, the contractor was heading out.

They nearly ran into each other and Blakesley jumped out of the way, startled.  The contractor, a great big man in his late fifties with a big mustache and belly, laughed.

“Sorry, Ms. Masterson,” he said. “I didn’t hear you.”

Blakesley waved him off. “No harm,” she said. “Did you get the fireplace unplugged in the other wing?”

The big man nodded. “Unplugged and partially repaired,” he said. “We rewired the chandeliers in the big hall today.  All in all, we got a lot done today. Go see for yourself.”

Blakesley smiled happily. “I will.”

 “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks,” Blakesley waved at him as he continued on to his truck. 

The open door screamed ‘Come In’ to Crosby, who darted into the public wing and disappeared.  Blakesley let go of Cadee’s hand and darted in after her.

“Crosby Anne!” she called. “Come back here now.”

They could hear giggling somewhere back in the maze of rooms.  Beck, following Cadee into the house, wriggled his eyebrows when Blakesley turned around and gave him an exasperated expression.   He grinned.

“I’ll see if I can find her,” he said, pushing past her and Cadee.

Blakesley watched him go, taking Cadee’s hand again, her one obedient child, and went into the giant hall to see to the newly repaired chandeliers. She could hear Beck’s soft, firm voice calling for Crosby and the little girl’s high-pitched giggles. Blakesley took a moment to pause and listen, thinking that Ed Masterson had never shown such interest in his girls.  The man had provided well and had shown up appropriately at school plays or parent nights, but he’d never truly shown the makings of a caring or considerate father. 

They were qualities that Beck most definitely had. It endeared him to her all the more and the man took on dimension in her eyes. With a smile reflective of her thoughts, she trusted Beck to corral Crosby and went to inspect the repaired chandeliers.

Corral was an appropriate term.  In fact, Beck was thinking he needed a lasso as Crosby darted in and out of rooms, hiding beneath old desks and then emerging on the other side and running away.   In truth, it was very cute and very funny, and Beck figured she couldn’t really get into any trouble if he had her within his sights.  Crosby was a handful, no doubt, with her mother’s porcelain features and lively personality.  The little girl ran into a smaller room that had an outlet into a larger room that flanked the main hall, so Beck casually doubled back into the larger room and wait for her to emerge.  She did, and ran straight into him.

Beck hauled her up, gigging and squirming, and carried her upside-down into the main hall where Blakesley and Cadee were.  Blakesley was peering up at the old antique chandeliers when she heard them coming, smiling when she saw how Beck was holding her daughter.  He righted her as he came to a halt next to Blakesley, setting the little girl gently to her feet.

“Thank you,” Blakesley said to him, then looked at her squirrely daughter. “No more running away, okay?”

Crosby just grinned, an impish gesture with her two missing front teeth.  She was holding Beck’s hand, twisting around impatiently. “Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Uh uh!”

 Crosby suddenly fell to her hands and knees and crawled in between Beck’s legs, rabbiting towards the back of the house.  Giving Blakesley a wink, Beck calmly but swiftly took off after her.  He pursued her into the room off the big hall, hearing her over in the room on the southeast corner of the house, the one that they used to keep horses in with great double doors that had long been nailed shut to prevent exterior access. 

Quickly, he ran around to lock the second door that led off into the room with the two old iron cells.  It was the only other way out of the room.  Then he came back around to the open door leading into the horse room and as he stood there, he could hear her giggling.  She was evidently hiding from him so he just stood there, getting a fix on her position based on her giggles. It was like radar, a talent that had served him well in his chosen profession. Beck had the hearing of a bat.

“What are you doing?” Blakesley was suddenly standing beside him.  She alternately looked up at Beck and into the darkened room. “Where is she?”

Beck put a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture.  He pointed to a corner that had what looked like an old tack closet built in to it, with ragged doors hanging slightly ajar.  There was movement inside.

“I don’t know what happened to Crosby,” he said loudly. “I can’t find her.”

Blakesley grinned; she was on to his game. “Poor Crosby,” she said dramatically. “I guess she’s lost in this big house. We’ll never find her now.”

“Too bad,” Beck lamented. “Who am I going to eat ice cream with?”

Blakesley fought off the giggles. “Well, I hope she likes it here,” she said loudly. “I’m going to miss her.  But she really needs to watch out for the toe-eating bunnies.”

Beck looked at her, a smile on his lips. “Toe-eating bunnies?” he repeated. “That sounds scary.”

“It is scary,” Blakesley agreed. “There are bunnies that live in the cupboards and closets in the house and they like to nibble on the toes of naughty little girls.  I forgot to tell her that.”

Beck was grinning by now. “I don’t think I like that,” he said, looking to see if the tack cabinet was still moving. “Do you think they’ll nibble on her?”

Blakesley nodded firmly. “Absolutely,” she announced. “The only way they won’t is if she’s a very good girl and doesn’t run from her mother.”

Beck was close to laughing and he pressed his lips together, struggling not to chuckle, as the tack closet suddenly burst open and Crosby jumped out.

“You’re kidding, Mommy,” she announced, a big grin on her face. “There are no bunnies in the closet.”

Blakesley leaned confidently against the doorjamb. “How do you know?”

Crosby was very sure of herself as she danced around over by the tack closets. “Because the bunnies won’t bite me!”

“Why not?” Blakesley wanted to know.

“Because!” Crosby insisted. “They…!”

Her daughter was there and in the next second, she was gone.  The old floor gave way and Crosby fell through, down into the dark oblivion. 

Chapter Seven

Startled, Beck rushed forward with Blakesley on his heels, dropping to his belly as he came near the hole in the floor. He held out a hand to the terrified mother.

“Stop,” he told her. “Stay there in case this floor gives way anymore.”

Blakesley did as she was told but she was in a panic. “Crosby!” she cried. “Baby, can you hear me? Are you all right?”

Beck very quickly inspected the floor around the hole before he inched forward, just to make sure he wouldn’t fall through as well. He could hear Crosby whimpering down in the hole as he stuck his head in.

“Crosby?” he couldn’t see a thing; it was pitch black. “Honey, are you okay?”

Crosby suddenly let up a big wail. “It’s dark!”

“Are you okay?”

“I wanna get out!”

Beck began looking around for a way to lowering himself into the  hole when he noticed what looked like old wooden slats built into the side of the hole, like ladder rungs.  It began to occur to him that, perhaps, this wasn’t just a freakish hole beneath the house but something more structured.  It was odd and startling.

“I’m coming,” he told her, sliding his big body over to the side of the hole where the rungs were. “Hold on; I’m coming down to get you.”

Blakesley moved from her spot several feet away, rushing to Beck as he moved for the edge of the hole.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He could hear the fear in her voice.  “I’m going down to get Crosby,” he told her, his manner professional and no-nonsense, but he realized how that must be coming across to her so he softened. He had a tendency to sound harsh. “It’s okay, baby.  She’s conscious and talking, and she doesn’t sound like she’s too far down, so I’m just going to go down and get her, okay?”

Blakesley nodded, total fear yet total trust in her eyes. “Okay.”

Beck winked at her but simultaneously, pointed a finger at her. “You and Cadee stay back,” he told her. “Are there any flashlights around here?”

Blakesley shrugged anxiously. “I don’t know,” she said, her tone bordering on tears. “I think I have one in my car.”

“Can you please go get it?”

Blakesley nodded again, taking Cadee fearfully by the hand and racing from the room.  Beck heard their footsteps fade away as he very carefully began to lower himself into the hole.

“Crosby?” he called down to the child. “Did you hurt yourself?”

He could hear her crying softly. “I bumped my knee,” she wept.

Beck very carefully lowered himself onto the old ladder, old slats of dusty wood that had to be a hundred years old.  They also appeared well-used, peaking his curiosity as he began to carefully test his weight on them.  They seemed sturdy enough so he was willing to take the chance because he had to get down to Crosby. Even if he had to jump, he was going to get to her.

The wood creaked dangerously under his weight as he made his way down.  Dust and the smell of cold, damp earth surrounded him.  But he was also very curious; he could see that the walls had been carved out and the hole itself was about four feet or more in diameter, definitely not a natural phenomenon. Someone had taken the time to carve this out so along with the uncertainty, he was feeling some fascination.

“Crosby?” he called again because he wanted her to know he was with her. “Talk to me, baby.  Did you hurt anything else when you fell?”

He could hear her sniffling. “No,” she wasn’t sobbing anymore but she was very unhappy. “Is this where the bunnies live?”

Beck grunted softly, thinking that his and Blakesley’s stories to scare Crosby into obeying were about to backfire.

“No, baby,” he said softly. “The bunnies don’t live down here.”

“Are they going to bite my toes?”

“I promise, they’re not down here,” he told her.  “Nobody is going to bite your toes.”

Surprisingly, he hit the ground after only about ten or so feet. It was very dark except for light from the hole above and he looked around, spying the blond little girl just a few feet away.  He went to her, kneeling down beside her.  Before he could check her for any injury, she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck.  Beck picked her up and held her.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing her little back. “I’ll get you out of here.”

“I don’t like the dark,” she squeezed his neck fearfully.

“I know,” he soothed her. “I’m going to take you out right now.”

“Beck?” Blakesley was calling from above.

He turned in the direction of the open hole. “Down here.”

“Is Crosby okay?”

“She seems to be.”

“Can I come near the hole?” she asked.

“Carefully.”

After a couple of moments, he could see Blakesley’s face peering down at him. “I found a flashlight,” she said.

“Toss it down,” he told her. “Try not to nail me in the head with it.”

He heard her giggle as an object came flying down, missing him by inches and thumping against the ground.  With Crosby in one big arm, he bent down to pick up the flashlight and turned it on.

A whole new world opened up in the white beam of the LCD flashlight.   A tunnel branched off from the bottom of the hole, disappearing in darkness.  There were old boxes and tools and other unidentifiable objects lining the walls of the tunnel, covered in dirt and cobwebs, and decades of oldness. 

Surprised and curious, Beck shined the flashlight on the walls of the mouth of the tunnel, seeing all sorts of words and engravings, like people had lived down in the depths and scrawled out their thoughts and feelings.  He got an overall impression of eeriness as he inspected a few of the passages, words such as ‘diablo’ and ‘muerte’ being recognizable.  Almost everything he could see was written in Spanish.

In all, he only took a few seconds inspecting his surroundings because he had a six year old clinging to him, but his brief inspection was enough to feed his curiosity.  It was also enough to feed his sense of caution and foreboding.  He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with any of it.

Backing up towards the old ladder, he looked upward to see Blakesley looking down at him.