How the Secrets of Blackthorn Ridge Exposed My Familys Greed
“I didn’t find them,” Celeste’s voice drifted up, sharp and irritated. “Check the hook by the pantry.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I quickly slid the ledger and the correspondence into my leather satchel.
I pushed the secret panel closed and turned the key, locking the cherrywood desk.
The small key slid deep into my pocket.
I moved to the window, looking down at the gravel driveway.
Graham’s black SUV sat idling in the rain, its headlights cutting through the gray mist.
I needed to get out of the main house before they came upstairs to search Eleanor’s room.
I slipped out of the study and hurried down the narrow servants’ staircase at the back of the hall.
The wooden steps were cold beneath my boots.
I let myself out through the heavy side door, stepping into the damp afternoon air.
The smell of wet earth and boxwood filled my lungs.
I crossed the lawn quickly, staying close to the hemlock hedges to remain out of sight.
I headed for the old stone carriage house where I had set up my temporary quarters.