Ivy pressed her lips together. “This isn’t a spectator sport. Helps us out or get out.”
Bennett jerked his chin toward the brick wall. “That’s a big job for you to handle.”
“I’ve got this,” Ivy said, hefting the large hammer.
“Please, let me.” Bennett rested his hand on hers. After a moment of hesitation, she released her grip, letting Bennett take the sledgehammer from her. He had no doubt that she could handle this job, but what kind of a man would he be to sit by and watch?
She slipped off her protective eye goggles. “You should wear these.”
Bennett adjusted the safety glasses and lined up the large hammer on the wall. “Right about here?”
Ivy raised a shoulder. “Go ahead.”
“That’s perfect,” Shelly said, hopping from one foot to another with excitement. “Do it!”
Bennett reared back and brought the sledgehammer down hard against the brick wall. The old wall shuddered from the shock, spewing dust and crumbling brick.
“Hit it again,” Shelly cried out, clapping.
Once again, Bennett brought the hammer down, making a small hole in the center of the wall.
Waving the dust away, Ivy stepped closer. Flicking on the light on her phone, she held it to the opening and peered through. “There is something in there,” she said, her voice rising. A fine layer of dust settled on her hair.
Ivy sounded excited, and it was all Bennett could do to keep from brushing the dust from her hair. She was easily the most vexing woman he’d come across in all his years in real estate and as mayor of Summer Beach.
“Step back, and I’ll make an opening for you to get through.” Bennett was curious to see what was behind the wall as well.
What had Mrs. Erickson kept concealed here, and why? Bennett knew that local residents often speculated on the long-vacant house, conjuring stories. At the annual graduation bonfire on the beach, teenagers told stories of ghostly inhabitants, but to his knowledge, there wasn’t any truth to them.
Or was there? What could Mrs. Erickson have been hiding?
Chapter 14
IVY STEPPED THROUGH the jagged entryway that Bennett had smashed and chiseled from the brick enclosure. “There’s a staircase leading down.”
She paused on the landing to adjust to the darkness and the dank, musty odor. Mitch had raced to the truck for flashlights, which Bennett had told him he kept in an earthquake preparedness kit. She glanced back.
“Are you coming?” She’d rather not do this alone, even if it meant having Bennett by her side.
“Wait up, Ivy.” Bennett gulped a long drink from a water bottle Shelly had given him.
Perspiration beaded on his brow and upper lip, not that Ivy had intended to notice. His virility was overwhelming. She caught her breath and shifted her gaze. Yet, seeing how much effort Bennett put forth made her grateful for his help, though she and Shelly could have managed without him, even if it had taken them all night.
Still, he and Mitch had been so concerned about them when they’d heard Shelly’s scream. Surprisingly, Ivy found that comforting. As long as she’d lived in Boston, she hardly knew her neighbors. Turnover was frequent, and they kept to themselves. Not here. Summer Beach seemed like a close community. She wouldn’t have guessed that Bennett and Mitch were such good friends.
“What do you see?” Shelly poked her head through the opening.
“I’m not sure.” Gingerly, she slid her foot forward, fearing rats or traps. Her pulse quickened. Sweeping the space with the flashlight from her phone illuminated a landscape of tented mounds below. An involuntary shudder gripped her, and she wondered what they would find.
She could understand why someone might store items in a basement—that was normal—but why brick up the opening? And not open it for decades? The more that Ivy came to know of Amelia Erickson, the more of an enigma the woman became. Who was she, and what was she hiding?
She heard the kitchen door bang and retreated into the safety of the well-lit kitchen. Mitch bounded in with an armload of equipment.
Bennett pulled straps with a mounted light over his head. “Here, you should have one of these, too.” Bennett whipped one of the contraptions over Ivy’s head and showed her how to turn it on.
“Thanks, but I can do it.” Ivy adjusted the straps, though her headlamp seemed to slip on her forehead. “Do you always take control of situations like this?”
“That’s why he’s the mayor.” Mitch nudged Bennett. “He rallied this community back after the last earthquake.”
“I just serve where I can,” Bennett said, tossing off the praise. He tightened the side of Ivy’s headlamp strap. “Better?”
Ivy wrinkled her nose at his closeness. “Yeah, but why do you smell like fish?”
Bennett looked amused. “We were out on Mitch’s boat this afternoon. Saw some incredible fin whales and bottlenose dolphins, and my nephew caught a few fish.”
“And released them,” Mitch added.
Bennett divided up the gear on the table. “Each of you will need a flashlight, gloves, and a dust mask. Get your gear on and let’s go.”
While Shelly and Mitch followed his instructions, Ivy put a paper mask over her mouth and nose. She pulled on a pair of large work gloves and waggled her fingers at her sister.
Shelly burst out laughing. “You look like Indiana Jones.”
“We’re on a mission.” Ivy wasn’t going to let Bennett take over. With a wave of her hand, she said, “Follow me, everyone.”
Ivy stepped through the brick entry and flicked on her flashlight to swing it around, although her headlamp was quite bright. Sucking in a breath, she made her way down the wooden stairs, which creaked with every step as if the old bones of the house were complaining of stiff joints.
The others joined her. With their lighting gear, the spacious room was soon illuminated with beams of light zooming around like a laser show.
“Wow,” Shelly breathed. “Look at all of
