“Mmm…I am warming up again.” Maggie lifted her head, giving Max more of her neck to kiss.
He needed no further invitation, moving his lips softly over her skin.
She tried to step away, grabbing her arms about her. “I am sorry, Max. I should not have allowed this. Forgive me, but we cannot be doing this.”
“No. It is I who needs to apologize. I lost my senses, but I confess, I enjoyed every minute.” He tried to shake the delicious fog from his own head and gave a small nod to her dog. “Shep seems to have found something that intrigues him.” The dog was sniffing and moving toward the wall that held her father’s secret panel. Growling, he began to dig furiously and soon freed a piece of fabric caught under the bookcase.
The dog dropped a piece of black and navy plaid wool at her feet. Maggie reached down and picked it up. A look of horror flashed across her face. “I recognize this—Slade was wearing a coat made of this wool that dreadful night.” She looked up at Max. “And that morning when I saw him staring up at the house, he was wearing it then too.”
Chapter 9
“Whoever was wearing this was here recently. There is slight dampness to it, a telltale sign it has been out in the elements.”
“You mean Slade could still be here?” Blood drained from her face.
Max reached out and stroked her cheek. “Let us concentrate on what we are here to do. We should focus on that last day with your father. Can you recall how your father opened the panel?” He looked at the dark piece of wool he held, turning it over in his hands.
“I do.” She hesitated but moved in front of him to the shelf. Scanning the books, she noticed most of her father’s Shakespeare volumes were missing. Quelling the panic in her throat, Maggie glanced to the corner of the room and saw them laying in a heap with the other books Slade had tossed to the floor. The realization that Slade had been so close to finding father’s box sent a chill down her back.
She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer as she tapped on the center of the panel, just as her father had done. “I hope I am hitting the right—” She could not finish her sentence before the panel opened, disclosing a lockbox shaped and painted like three Shakespeare books. “It is still here.” She whispered with relief. Carefully, she lifted the box out and held it close to her chest. Everything you need is in the box, she remembered her father saying.
“That is a very unusual box. May I?” His eyes met hers.
She nodded.
Max reached for the box and turned it over, scrutinizing each side. “Masterfully done. How strange!”
“Yes, my mother had it made for him as a gift.” Maggie’s eyes welled with tears, and she blinked them away.
“Will this be the first time you have seen inside the box?”
“Yes, it will. Father barely finished telling me about it before he and Mother left for town. I saw him toss the key in here...” She walked to the desk, opened the drawer, and reached inside for the key. Gone. Again. “Father’s key is missing.” Maggie hesitated. “Wait, I think he hit a button,” she said as she continued to feel inside the drawer. “Ah…here it is.” She pressed what she hoped was the opening switch for the hidden back drawer panel. The wooden section opened, and several keys popped forth. Maggie picked them up. “How odd—there was only one key when Father dropped it into the drawer…” Her voice trailed off.
“As tossed as this room is, I am startled that the drawers are intact,” he said with astonishment. “Do you know which it is? All must hold some importance.”
She started to answer, but loud scrapping sounded from the safe room behind the wall. A creak sounded from the floor in the safe room, and she jumped, fear clutching at her heart. Shep kept to himself in the corner near the strewn books. Thankfully, he remained quiet, almost as if he understood something.
Max laid a warm hand on her trembling shoulder, calming her. At least she could think again. She gave him a tentative smile and held a finger to her lips, then pointed to the panel and gently tapped on it again. The now empty alcove that once held her father’s unique box quietly opened again. She pointed to a small hole in the wall that had a narrow eyepiece attached.
Max nodded and slowly raised an eyebrow, gesturing her to keep silent. Then he motioned her to look.
She leaned into the small eyepiece and looked around the room she had spent so much time in recently. It appeared very different. A small chair, table, and her mother’s tea service lined the back wall. Those had not been there before. A stack of the blankets and pillows she and Shep had used when they slept there stood in the corner.
Trying to maintain her composure, she nodded in Max’s direction and stepped back so he could look.
When he eased into his place in front of her, she caught the scent of bayberry and her toes curled with longing. For a moment, she could only think of Max. Wanting him. A shot of sudden heat soared through her body, pooling its warmth in her center. She coveted a sliver of time to relish in the sensual feeling of it all but knew any thoughts in that direction were wasted. They had missed their
