As I moved along the wall, I found more pictures, including a long dead European prime minister in an S&M session with a dominatrix…a very famous vegetarian chowing down on a large steak…
Oh wow. There really was a treasure hidden in the house. And this was it.
Slam!
The only way out of the room slammed shut. Seriously, what was it with these secret rooms that had only one way in and one way out?
"Who's out there?" I called out, not really expecting an answer.
I tried the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. Neither would the door. It opened inward toward me. Kicking it open wouldn't be an option. This wasn't an accident. There were no breezes to do this.
Someone had locked me in a room of secrets. Don't get me wrong, I could've spent all day in a room like this. What I didn't appreciate was being trapped inside of it.
A note slid under the door. I picked it up.
You don't belong here.
I found a pen and scribbled It's my house before shoving it back under the door.
No, it's not came the reply.
I wrote Yes, it is and shoved it back.
Is Not.
Is too.
Why was I engaging in this stupid argument?
"Let me out, and I promise not to turn you in," I lied. Of course I was going to turn the guy in. No one locks me in a room full of secrets. It had to be the same guy who'd put the frog in the bathroom and who'd tried to kill me last night on the ropes course.
"This is really getting old," I shouted.
The note slid back to me. You should be more concerned with what's behind you.
Turning around, I spotted the deathstalker scorpion crawling across the floor toward me.
"Quit trying to kill me with my own pets!" I pounded on the door.
The only response was the sound of footsteps running away.
It's funny. I've dealt with scorpions before. I'd once spent a month in Cairo. The biggest problem was avoiding the barb in the end of its tail. The little crab claws were useless…a distraction.
I picked up a box from the desk. It was open on one end. Huh. I guess I did find a box. I neatly dropped it over the scorpion.
Threaten me with a scorpion, will you? I didn't want to kill it. Nasty as it was, Aunt June had wanted the damn thing and had taken care of it. It wasn't a threat as long as I didn't take the box off the top of it.
Grabbing my cell, I was surprised to find that there was absolutely no service in this room. Had Aunt June done that on purpose? Older people didn't care for technology. Or maybe she thought it was a threat to her collection of blackmail material. Although, most of the people in the photos were dead, so these things wouldn't hurt them much.
And everyone knew about J. Edgar Hoover's cross-dressing ways. Some of these secrets were obsolete. So why had she kept them? Had she been planning on writing a tell-all book? Blackmailing their descendants?
It was starting to annoy me how little I knew about this woman. Every time I thought I had her pegged, something else weird turned up.
Another question… Should I box everything up? She had some sort of system with the red strings that meant something. I just didn't have time to examine it properly. It would probably be better just to call in the CIA and hand the room over to them. That seemed like the best option. I could only imagine how awful it would be if Betty or the girls got their hands on some of these things.
But now I needed to get the door open. That was my priority. My troop was waiting for me. And I didn't like disappointing my troop.
The box began to move, so I grabbed a book and put it on top. Then I felt bad, so I took a pen and punched a few air holes in the sides. This was a stupid way to try to kill me. Unlike the frog, who could jump on me at any moment, a scorpion skittered slowly across the surface. I could easily step on it or drop something on it.
I felt the door. It wasn't cinderblock like the walls. Funny, it looked like that from the outside. Obviously, Aunt June had wanted people to see nothing there but a cement wall with a stain. But this was just plaster.
I picked up the chair closest to me and began slamming it against the wall as hard as possible. It started to make a dent in the plaster. I pretended that this was my attacker from last night and kept hitting the wall, over and over, until I had made a hole I could crawl through.
The only thing I had to worry about was if he'd remained in the house. I pulled out my cell. I had service now. I called Rex.
"Hey, babe! I'm on my way back. I've got some really interesting news."
"He tried to kill me again," I interrupted.
Rex's voice changed to something more urgent. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I can certainly outrun a scorpion." I explained everything to him.
"I can be there in a few minutes," Rex said. I could hear his tires squealing in the background. "Stay in the basement until I get there."
No problem. I texted Kelly, who said they were getting ready to head over. I told her to keep the girls in the van until Rex arrived.
A few minutes later, I heard a siren. Then the front door opened.
"Mrs. Ferguson?" Ted Carnack's voice came from upstairs.
"Down here!" I shouted.
"It's alright, Merry," Rex shouted down. "You can come up now."
I joined the two men in the foyer. The sheriff was searching the house as Rex pulled me into his arms. When we heard the
