Page 24 of This Time Around
“Maybe. Keep your weight on the rafter beams just to be safe.”
Jack pivoted, surveying the rest of the space. He guided his flashlight beam in a slow arc, illuminating dark corners with the narrow yellow ray of light. The room smelled like cardboard and old mothballs, and he could see dust sparkling in a sunbeam that filtered through a small window at the peak of the ceiling. There was a seventies-era tinsel Christmas tree along one wall next to a creepy-looking dressmaker’s mannequin wearing a scuba suit. Near that was an old steamer trunk like the one his own grandparents used to have, and he wondered how the hell someone had lugged it up a ladder. Maybe some sort of pulley system.
“Do you know if she’s had this place checked for black mold or asbestos or any other environmental hazards?” he asked.
“Not sure. Is that expensive?”
“The inspection won’t be, but dealing with any hazards could be. What is all this stuff, anyway?”
“I think Grandma mostly used it as storage space. I have no idea when she was last up here. Years, probably.”
Allie took a few cautious steps toward the wall where the mannequin and steamer trunk sat, which was smart. The floor looked reinforced over there, so it should be safer. Jack watched as she balanced on one of the plywood-covered beams, making her way across the dim space. The dormer window illuminated her path, but Jack pointed his flashlight there anyway, hoping to give her a little extra help.
“Take it slow,” he called.
“I know, I know.”
He watched her take two more steps, her hand reaching out to brace her against the bare wood beam. Her hair fell over her face as she looked down at a pile of boxes stacked three high, each the size of a large microwave.
“I guess I should look inside some of these,” she said.
“Need a box cutter?”
“No, they’re not sealed.” She was already unfolding the flaps of the top box, sending little puffs of dust into the sunbeam from the window above her. Jack took a few steps closer, aiming his flashlight beam at her hands.
The instant her shoulders tensed, Jack froze.
“Holy shit.”
Chapter 5
Allie stared into the cardboard box, hardly believing her eyes. She started to reach inside, then yanked her hand back. Did she really want to touch it?
“Allie? What is it?”
She turned and looked at Jack, then shook her head. “Nothing. Just some old clothes my grandma wore when I was a little girl. I hadn’t seen them for years, so it caught me by surprise.”
Good, that was a good lie. Close enough to the truth that he wouldn’t feel the need to investigate.
Either her lying skills had slipped over the years or Jack had gotten better at recognizing them, because the next thing she knew, he was striding across the attic toward her. Allie hurried to push the box flaps closed. Maybe she’d get lucky and he’d slip off the rafter he was balancing on and go crashing through the ceiling below.
She didn’t want him hurt. Just distracted enough not to ask more questions.
Allie pivoted and pointed to the old steamer trunk near the window. “Let’s see if we can get into that trunk. It looks pretty old.” She kept her back to the pile of boxes, feeling the contents burning through her spine. “You know, I think that’s the same trunk I hit my head on when I was six or seven. Bled all over the place. It used to be in one of the bedrooms downstairs, so maybe the keys are still?—”
“Allie.”
“What?”
“What’s in that box?”
“What box?”
“The one behind you.”
She tossed her hair, doing her best to look casual. “Like I said, just some old clothes I remember Grandma wearing when?—”
“You’re full of it.”
