The Promise of Home Read Free

reception,” Ruth said. “Oh, I can’t wait to show you the whole house! You’ll be able to see how perfect everything will be. That is, if we can be ready. Emily, are you sure we can commit to it?”
    As Claudia watched, a fleeting look of concern passed over Emily’s face. It was gone in an instant, though, replaced with a wide smile.
    “Absolutely. It’ll be close, but I’ll make it happen.”
    —
    In the master bedroom on the second floor of the marble mansion, Emily turned off the edge sander she had been using and shifted into a sitting position on the floor. Without the noise of the machine, she could hear Ruth chatting with Kyle, Claudia, and Rowen on their way out. She tried to ignore the stress that had been building after she’d agreed to have the house ready in time for Kyle and Claudia’s wedding. True, she had plenty of experience working to meet deadlines, and she had brought enough old houses back to their original grandeur to know what remained to be done in the McAllister mansion, but it wouldn’t be easy. Between her part-time job at Turner’s Hardware and the odd jobs she did on the side for her mother’s real estate listings, she wouldn’t have a spare minute for the next two months.
    Emily sighed and got back on her hands and knees. Using a small handheld sander to remove the final bits of old finish on a wood floor was her least favorite part of the refinishing process. She took some comfort in knowing that this was the last room, though. She had finished the wood floors on the lower level during the summer, and the floors in many of the other bedrooms upstairs needed nothing but a good mopping and waxing, since they had never been used. Emily continued working her way around the room, crawling along the windows and into the closet.
    It was then that she felt the crack in the floor beneath her hand.
    She switched off the sander. The crack seemed to run perpendicular to the planks of the wood floor, and her first thought was that she might have to completely replace several of the pieces of wood. When she looked closely, though, she saw that the crack wasn’t a crack at all but one side of a well-camouflaged rectangle that had been cut into the floor.
    In fact, it looked like some sort of trapdoor.
    “Emily?” Ruth’s voice called, and the sound of footsteps on the stairs followed soon after.
    “In here,” she replied.
    Ruth entered the room, slightly out of breath. “Goodness, I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to such a big staircase.”
    “A big staircase for a big house.”
    “Yes. I guess I’m ready to head home. I just wanted to check to see if you needed anything.”
    “No, I’m good,” Emily said. “I’m going to leave, too, as soon as I’m done edging in here. I’ll vacuum first thing in the morning and then get going on the stain. I’ll lock up everything, as usual.” Her hand was still resting on the floor, and she felt the crack leaving an indentation on her palm.
    “Thanks, honey. You have a good night.”
    Once Ruth had left the house, Emily jumped up. Her toolbox was on the floor near the base of the stairs, and she descended quickly to grab one of her putty knives and a flashlight. Then, back in the master bedroom, she entered the closet and knelt down. The thin blade of the putty knife just fit into the crack. It was difficult, but she was able to pry up a chunk of the floor, a rectangular lid, which she set aside. She switched on her flashlight and peered down into a hidden compartment. The space was perhaps two feet deep. The only thing inside, other than dust and cobwebs, was an old hard-sided briefcase.
    Emily took hold of the dusty handle and pulled it out. The case was made of smooth tan leather. Unlike most modern cases, which used combination locks, the brass locks on either side of the handle had keyholes. To her chagrin, the locks were engaged. She shook the briefcase gently. It wasn’t heavy, but a soft rustling noise from inside told her