Chapter Sixteen

  Ben and Kyle had been living in the house for a few months. Other than Gladys, they had not made any effort to get to know their other neighbours.

  Ben’s days were mostly filled with writing, drinking, and applying for the occasional job. With the amount of money he had left, there was no way he could sustain his current lifestyle, and he knew it. He tried not to think about it, but Kyle, the more responsible one, kept insisting he develop a plan.

  After a long day of writing, Ben was exhausted. His face carried the marks of a depressed alcoholic. His hygiene was poor and he looked like he was in rough shape. Despite his appearance, however, he was still happier than he had been in Cold Lake.

  Similarly, Kyle had been working all day. It was a little after eleven o’clock at night when he stepped through the door. He noticed Ben still sitting in the same spot he always sat — at the computer in the dining room. It looked like Ben had not showered or eaten anything all day, which caused Kyle to be concerned.

  “Hey, man,” Kyle said, hanging his jacket on a nearby hook.

  “How was work?” Ben asked.

  “It was good I suppose. How was your day?”

  “It was actually quite productive. I wrote a few new chapters in my novel.”

  “That’s great. How’s the book coming along?”

  “It’s going really well. Any day I spend writing is a good day. It doesn’t feel like work, you know? Sometimes I have to remind myself to eat or sleep because I am so focused on the story. I think this is what I’m destined to do. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

  “Can you make any money at it?”

  “Some people can, but I don’t really care about that. I write because it’s the only thing that makes me happy.”

  “That’s great and all, and I’m really happy for you, but I have some bad news.”

  “What is it?”

  “I found this foreclosure notice taped to the front door. It’s to notify you of back taxes owed on the property.”

  Let me see that,” Ben said as he snatched the notice from Kyle’s hands. “When did you find this?”

  “Just now.”

  “Weren’t you home today? I’m surprised you didn’t hear them knocking.”

  “They must have come when I was in the basement.”

  “Okay, so what are we going to do about this?”

  “Don’t worry. It says here that we have sixty days to pay the property tax. If we don’t get caught up with the payments by that time, there will be a court hearing. I’m sure we’ll have enough money by then to cover our expenses. Worst case scenario, we’ll sell the house and use the money to rent a new place.”

  “Alright, I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Kyle said as he exhaled a deep sigh. He began to walk into the kitchen, but then paused, turned around and asked, “What were you doing in the basement?”

  “Just checking things out.”

  “Did you find anything worth checking out?”

  “Not really.”

  “Alright, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  After Kyle went to bed, Ben continued to sit in front of his computer. It was getting late and his brain was starting to fatigue. Ironically, that was when an idea popped into his head.

  Venturing into the cold and damp basement was something he had only done a few times, but this was the first time he had done it at night. As long as he got over that fact, he would be fine. Once down there, there were no external clues providing any indication as to what time of day it was. With flashlight in hand, he marched downstairs one last time before bed. There was something about the basement, some nagging feeling that was bothering him that refused to go away.

  Ben walked over to an area he had not really explored up close before — the fireplace. There was nothing particularly fancy about it; it was just an ordinary brick fireplace. When he got close to it, he noticed that it looked like it had not been used in a very long time. There were no ashes or remnants of charred logs, just a thick layer of dust. The fireplace was large, but not large enough where he could fit comfortably inside. He turned the flashlight on, placed one arm on the mantel, and contorted his body into the fireplace. He was not sure what he was looking for exactly, but he had never owned a house before so perhaps more than anything, he wanted to inspect every square inch of the place, including the fireplace.

  While poking his head inside, his initial instinct was to look up the smoke chamber, which he did. His light penetrated the pitch-black flue all the way to the top. He was surprised at how large the opening was.

  Someone could crawl down here, he thought.

  He figured it was the first time eyes had set sight on the dark chamber in many decades. Ben then aimed the flashlight all around him, everywhere but down.

  After satisfying his curiosity, he backed out of the fireplace. For a brief and accidental moment, his flashlight pointed downward. That was when he noticed something very unusual. There had been a disturbance in the dust that was rather unsettling to him because he was very sure he had not caused it. On one side of the fireplace, there was what appeared to be the back half of a footprint, the front half was concealed behind the side wall. Logically speaking, that meant the side wall was not always in its current position, and that it had been moved recently.

  Ben’s excitement rose as he was now convinced he was about to find Mr. Gringer’s stash of twenty-two million dollars. He recalled old episodes of Scooby-Doo and feverishly started pushing bricks as if one of them were a button that would open a secret door. He pressed every brick on the fireplace, but nothing happened. The next thing Ben did was step completely inside the fireplace and try to physically move the side wall of the fireplace, but that did not work either. At this point, he was out of options, but was unwilling to give up hope. He stood up straight inside the fireplace and shone the flashlight all around. Again he started pressing on all the bricks, but nothing happened.

  Feeling defeated, he was about to give up. That’s when he noticed something he had previously missed. Nearly every brick inside the fireplace had been scolded black, except for one. That implied that it was newer than the rest of them. Ben figured it must have been installed after the fireplace ceased to be used as a fireplace. At this point, he was unsure what was special about it, but knew it was something worth exploring further. When he pressed it, nothing happened. However, when he pulled on it, it moved. The brick was a decoy. He pressed it downward and it slid out to reveal a secret button. Ben’s excitement shot through the roof.

  Without giving a second thought, Ben eagerly pressed the button. Just then, a large stone slab dragged across the concrete, creating a loud sound that echoed throughout the chimney.