Dash turned to her. "Is this some elaborate time-traveling adventure but instead of getting to drive a cool car, I have to read a newspaper?"
"You'll see," Harper said with a mischievous smile.
The attendant returned with a copy of the newspaper from the day she'd requested. The pages had been protected with plastic sheeting, and it was bound on what looked like a small curtain rod.
She carried the edition over to a large podium-like stand, where she opened the newspaper and searched up and down the pages.
"Here," Harper said. "Read this."
Dash looked over her shoulder to where she pointed and saw what she wanted him to read.
"City debates closing secret tunnels."
The story laid out the recent discovery of the tunnels used to transport liquor and other contraband substances all over Newcastle.
"See? That's your grandpa."
Dash looked at her and looked back at the paper. An old-timey illustrated portrait of a man in a bowler hat bore a striking resemblance to Dash's late father.
"Well, I guess he would be your great or great-great-grandfather," she clarified.
"Whoa," he said. He leaned down and squinted at the fading print on the yellowed page. The story explained the tunnels' discovery and the entire history of the partnership between Jack Fitzgerald and Horace Ross. The two of them had founded Fitzross Whiskey and had operated a secret still, literally underground, in the same spot where Horace Ross Whiskey now stood.
The words on the page made his heart pound with excitement. He never knew the story behind the feud, but now it all became clear. When the vice squad broke up their secret operation, everyone working there made a run for it. Ross had helped the employees escape through the underground tunnels, but Fitz had stayed behind to put the secret recipe in the safe. The delay had gotten him arrested by the vice squad. By the time he got out of jail, Ross had married the woman who had been Fitz's fiancée, had resurrected the still, and had a booming business once again.
After the Volstead Act was lifted, Ross continued with the business, then becoming a legitimate operation. He offered to buy Fitz out or welcome him back as a partner, but Fitz was so heartbroken, he cut ties completely.
Dash felt as if he hadn't breathed in five minutes.
"So that's how it started."
He looked at Harper. "I'm speechless."
"And your mom never told you?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure she even knows."
Harper took his hand. "Should I not have shown you this? You seem upset."
Again, he shook his head. "No. I'm not upset. This blows my mind. I think…I think I need some fresh air."
She bit her lip and took his hand. "Then let's go."
The elevator went up instead of down. "Harper, what are you up to now?"
She smiled. "Getting you some fresh air. Humor me." The elevator reached the 66th floor. They exited, and he followed her down a darkened hallway to a wooden door that looked like it was over 100 years old.
"This looks abandoned up here. Are you sure we're supposed to be up here?" Dash asked.
"Oh my god. Are you a man or a mouse?"
"I thought you didn't like tight spaces," he said as they climbed the narrow staircase that ended at a hatch on the ceiling.
She replied, "This is not a tight space for me. Sorry, I didn't think about your height. But this is amazing. Come on."
"Uh," he started, but Harper was undeterred. She opened the hatch and continued up more steps. A blast of cold wind almost knocked Dash over. "Come on! You gotta see this!"
"Are you taking me on the roof, or…" Dash's comments cut short when he joined her on the landing. To his left and right stood the back of the building's iconic clock faces, which faced east and west. In front of him lay the entire city north of the river. He could see Ecco Tower straight ahead, St. Patrick's Cathedral to his left, and beyond that, Newcastle Pier and the harbor. He turned 180 degrees and spied the Riverwalk shops and eateries that dotted the river. Beyond that, all the familiar Dockside landmarks, including the wharf, the Port Authority, and Holy Rosary.
"This is the weirdest-ass date I've ever been on but also hands down the coolest," Dash said.
Harper jumped up and down excitedly. "I'm so glad you're having fun. And look."
He grabbed her close. "Oh my god, do not jump around like that up here."
"Is Dash Fitzgerald afraid of heights?"
"No comment."
"Look," she said, gesturing with her forehead to the south. Dash followed her gaze over the river and watched where she pointed. "Over there is where our boat was, where the tunnels begin. And according to the tour guide, it goes that way, toward uptown. But according to that article, the tunnels stretch all the way to the community college, where the Ross farm used to be. It's all interconnected. They never closed off the tunnels, and that's why we have that sinkhole now. And I'm going to find out why the city never closed them off after knowing about it for almost a whole century. If they don't let me investigate the missing women, then I'm going to dig up some dirt on that tunnel, so to speak."
Dash was about to tell her to be careful—as if that wouldn't fall on deaf ears—when a loud clang drowned out the conversation.
"What the hell!" Dash shouted but could not hear his voice over the din coming from the clock tower chimes.
He could not hear her, but he could read her lips as she covered her ears.
"It must be noon!"
That night, Dash once again slept over in Harper's bed.
"You know, tomorrow is Monday," he said, holding a naked Harper against his chest after a lively boning session.
"Yeah, and…"
He reminded her, "And every Monday, the squad meets for breakfast at Crow Bar."
She hummed sleepily, tracing her fingers over his bare chest. "Yum. Breakfast."
"With my mom."
Harper sat up, suddenly wide awake, eyes wide. "Oh. Okay."
"And
