“Well, this was a dead end, and a mouse nearly made me pee myself,” she grumbled. “And I’m talking to myself like a crazy person.”
And throughout the whole search she couldn’t stop thinking about that bear shifter. Well, a big part of the reason was because she was still aching, in the most delicious way, from last night’s lovemaking.
With a sigh of defeat, she headed for the front door, and stopped where she stood as she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs.
She suddenly realized how isolated she was back here. If she screamed for help, Mr. Kray likely wouldn’t hear her.
And if he did, what could the old guy even do? He was a human; he’d be no match against a shifter. By the time he got his shotgun or called for help…
The door swung open, and Blanche walked in. Her hair was styled in a big bubble beehive with a purple braid wound around the bottom of it. She wore a polyester dress with a floral print, and a pair of white tennis shoes.
“Blanche! Good heavens, what are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack. How did you even find me?”
“Haven’t you learned anything about Blue Moon Junction? Everyone knows what everyone’s up to around here.”
Coral peered out the door. “Where’s your partner in crime?”
Blanche’s expression turned frosty. “We’re not speaking. I believe she’s out on a lunch date with her new gentleman friend.”
“Oh, the veterinarian. He looked kind of boring, anyway. You could do better,” Coral assured her. Blanche nodded in agreement.
“That’s true. He looked like a strictly missionary possession kind of guy to me. I like them a little more imaginative, you know?”
Coral stifled a gasp. This was not the direction she was trying to steer the conversation.
“Well, I’m done here anyway,” she said quickly, desperate to change the subject. “Let’s go get some coffee. I didn’t find anything.”
“My goodness, first you give up on the bear, and then you give up on searching the house. I didn’t figure you for such a quitter.”
“I am not a quitter!” Coral stamped her foot indignantly.
“And now you sound like my great-nephew when he doesn’t want to go to bed.” Blanche folded her arms stubbornly across her chest.
“Fine,” Coral said, through gritted teeth. “I’ve looked in every drawer, every cupboard, under the bed, in the closets. I don’t see anything. What do you suggest?”
“What about the trap door that leads to the basement?”
“What trap door?”
“Now you see, that’s why you need me to help you with your snooping. I know the history of all the houses in town. This house used to be owned by a moonshiner. He needed a way to make a quick exit when them revenue-ers came around. Follow me.”
Blanche led her in to the bedroom. She began moving the nightstand, which sat on top of a rug. Coral helped her, and then they peeled the rug back, and Blanche fished in her purse and pulled out a screwdriver.
Coral stared at Blanche’s big purse, baffled. Who carried around a screwdriver in their purse? Crazy old ladies, that’s who.
“What the heck else do you have in-no, I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me,” Coral said, shaking her head.
“You never know when you need to unscrew something. Or stab someone,” Blanche said.
Note to self, Coral thought: do not piss off Blanche.
Blanche quickly pried up the trapdoor which had been cut into the floor, and then lit their way down the steps into a small secret room, using a small flashlight she had on her keychain.
They were in a small dirt cellar, which felt cold and damp and made Coral sneeze. The room was empty, except for a metal box in the corner.
Coral’s hands were shaking with excitement as she pulled it open. “Blanche, you’re a regular Nancy Drew,” she breathed reverently, pulling out a stack of reporter’s notebooks and a leather-bound journal.
“Well, course I am. Nobody can snoop like Blanche Briard. So what’s it say?” Blanche demanded eagerly, reading over her shoulder.
Coral quickly flipped through the journal, including the part where he’d briefly dated Bettina but thought she was too clingy. Towards the middle of the journal, she came to what she was looking for.
She skimmed through it quickly. A few weeks before his disappearance, he’d received a call from an investor corporation in New York, alerting him to strange goings on in the area outside of Blue Moon Junction. The investors were interested in buying a parcel of property outside of Blue Moon Junction to use as a landfill. They wanted land that was cheap and undeveloped. The property that they were trying to buy had already been purchased, and they couldn’t find out who had bought it.