The cold weather was gone now. Her grave had gone through two seasons. Chilly fall rain became ice around her. For a short time, it seemed it might hold tight to her. That it might keep her as she was. But that couldn't last forever. The spring came. It always would.
With the warmth came the thaw. And more people. More voices. Everywhere around her, there were more people, but nobody knew. They walked right over her. Lay beside her. Laughed and shouted. Worked and bled.
But not one ever knew she was there. Not one stopped to notice her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“So, we went to City Hall, and they weren't a lot of help”, Dean explains. “Turns out, all the property records from the town dated from a certain year backward are all kept in deep storage. Essentially it would take weeks to be able to find a deed or any other documents having to do with the temple.”
“Okay,” I say. “So, did you ask for them to find it for you?”
“We did,” he says. “But we didn't stop there. I couldn't imagine you would want to wait weeks for people to find this information for you, so we had an idea. We might not be able to find the ownership information right at this moment, but we can find out more about the building.”
“How?” I ask.
“The library,” Xavier cuts in. “That’s where all the old memories of town are held. Where they put them, so people won’t forget.”
“There are reference books in the library for all the historical buildings throughout town. The old hotel. The original post office. Some of the old houses. All the information,” Dean translates. “When they were built, who originally lived in them or used them. And blueprints.”
“Blueprints?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Well, not necessarily blueprints,” he acknowledges. “But plans. Drawings of the layout of the buildings. Some of them from the original plans. Of course, some of these buildings have been modified many times over since they were originally built, but it's the basic structure. The original concept of what each building was.”
“Did you find the temple?” I ask.
Xavier nods. “We remembered everything.”
I walk with the two of them into a large formal dining room where a massive table is spread with large photocopies. Standing over them, I see they are several sets of plans for the building. Alongside them are old maps of the city.
“What am I looking at?” I ask Dean.
“You probably already guessed it, but the temple was originally a church. Built more than two-hundred years ago as one of the first buildings in this area. Before the concept of the town of Harlan even existed. The church was much smaller then, but the sanctuary is actually original. So are a couple of the rooms. Essentially, the center of the building is the original church. Over the years, different groups expanded it. Then when The Order of Prometheus took over, they expanded even further. But there was one section they didn't modify.”
“What section?” I ask.
Xavier points to one of the images. “The basement.”
“Do you notice something odd about it?” Dean asks.
I'm staring at it, trying to figure out what he's pointing out to me when Sam comes into the room. He leans down and kisses my cheek.
“Hey, sweetie,” I smile.
“What are we looking at?” he asks, poring over the map.
“I'm not sure,” I tell him. “They think they might have found something about the temple. But I'm not catching on to it.”
“Look,” Dean says. “Look at the original pictures and then this one.”
I look at the buildings, my eyes going back and forth. There's something but can't put my finger on it.
Sam suddenly leans down closer, turning one of the pictures so that he can look at it at a better angle.
“They're not in the same place,” he notes. “Is that just something wrong with the drawing?”
“No,” Xavier says. “They are, and they aren't. A basement in a basement. A door that isn't a door.”
“This is the original basement,” Dean says, outlining the area of the building with his finger on the original depiction of the church. “And this is the basement about a hundred and fifty years after the church was built. It's bigger and higher up in the building. not by much, but enough to keep the original one hidden.”
“Why would they want to do that?" I ask.
"What year was the basement modified? Sam asks.
"Nineteen twenty," Dean says.
Realization dawns on me.
"Oh, holy shit. It's a speakeasy."
“That would be correct,” Dean grins, his satisfaction at keeping me guessing clearly obvious on his face. “And if you will turn your attention to the maps of the city that my good buddy Xavier analyzed for me, you will notice some very strategic construction happening around the town at that time.”
Xavier steps up and starts pointing out buildings and their arrangement throughout the town. Using his fingertip, he draws lines between the various buildings and the temple, then each of them and the river.
“Tunnels,” Sam says. “There are rum-running tunnels.”
“Documented rum-running tunnels,” Dean adds, pulling out another piece of paper and showing me a scan from a book on the history of the area. “It doesn't mention the temple. Probably for obvious reasons. But it says that the bootlegging activity in this area was legendary. The proximity to the river and the woods made it easy to create and transport alcohol without anybody noticing. Now according to this, almost all of the buildings that contain those tunnels have been destroyed. The only tunnel that is recognized goes from the basement of the original hotel to a spot out by the river where there was a house. And that tunnel has been sealed.”
“But what if there are other ones?” I say. “Ones they don't talk about.”
“Exactly,” Dean says.
“A door that isn't a door,” Xavier says.
“A basement that
