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Morgan nodded,a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “We’ll provide you with any resources youneed. Just tell me how we can help.”
Wintersglanced at her phone again, her face contorting with worry. Finn leaned incloser, trying to decipher the screen’s content. “What is it?” he inquired,sensing her unease.
“The signalfrom Sam’s phone. It’s gone,” Winters replied, her voice edged withfrustration. “He’s inside the castle grounds, but we’ve lost his exactlocation.”
Finn took a deepbreath, surveying the vastness of DeGrey Castle. The aged stone walls heldcountless secrets and stories from centuries past. “This place is a labyrinth,”he murmured, his mind working overtime. “He could be watching us. He knows we’rehere…”
Frau Wolf, overhearingthe conversation, interjected, “To my knowledge, there’s only one entrance—thedrawbridge.” She gestured to the heavy wooden structure that connected thecastle to the mainland. “We should be quite safe. This castle was once afortress, I am certain it can protect us all from one errant madman!”
But Finn wasn’tso sure. “Ancient castles like DeGrey,” he mused, “were often designed withescape routes in mind. Underground tunnels, counter mines, passageways thatwould have been essential in wartime.” He paused, letting the weight ofrealization sink in. “Sam spent his childhood years here. As the son of aservant, he would’ve had more freedom to explore these grounds than anyone else.He could’ve found hidden tunnels, places even the DeGrey family has longforgotten about.”
Winters lookedthoughtful. “So, you’re suggesting he might’ve found another way in? One thatwe aren’t aware of?”
Finn nodded,the dread growing heavier in his chest. “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore.”
He glancedaround, the vastness of the castle grounds and the encroaching night weighingon his mind. “I think we should stay the night. Monitor the situation. Can youaccommodate us?” he asked Frau Wolf.
“Of course,”she replied, her tone grave. “You’re our guests, and this is a dire situation.Anything you need.”
The groupmoved toward the castle’s entrance, but just as they approached, a loudthunderclap echoed across the sky, followed by the soft, rhythmic pattering ofrain. As if on cue, the heavens opened, and a deluge began. The storm was not theonly tempest that awaited them both outside and inside the walls of DeGreyCastle.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Finn walked aroundin awe of the castle, seeing incredible works of art, old shining suits ofarmor, and other display pieces lining almost every hallway. In some places itfelt as if there were more historical finds to be made within the catacomb-likepassageways of DeGrey Castle than Dashville Museum itself.
“This way,please,” Lincoln said, showing Finn and Winters to their rooms for the night.He looked just as pallid in the hallways as he did outside in the shadowy firstcourtyard.
Finn knewthere wouldn’t be time for much sleep, but it was good to have some sort ofbase of operations.
He stopped fora moment and admired a number of family photographs, professionally taken at arace horsing day. They were much younger in the picture. It had been taken atleast twenty years before. Something about it stuck in Finn’s mind. He thoughthow easy it was for a family to smile in their photographs pretending all iswell, when something rotten festers underneath.
“Come on,Finn, hurry up,” Winters said.
Finn jogged onand caught up with Mr. Lincoln and Winters.
The narrowcorridor leading to their rooms was dimly lit, the age of the castle evident ineven older worn-out tapestries and faded paintings that adorned the walls ofthis particular section.
Pushing open apair of heavy wooden doors, Mr. Lincoln revealed a room that took Finn’s breathaway.
“Here are yourrooms,” Lincoln said. “The door to the side adjoins the other. Now, I mustreturn to my duties. Good evening.”
“Good evening,”Finn said. Then, once Lincoln was clearly out of earshot, Finn turned toWinters. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead, but nobody has had the heart to tell himyet.”
The chamberwas regal and opulent, a stark contrast to the stone corridor outside. Tallwindows draped with velvet curtains let in slivers of the evening’s dwindlinglight, which danced upon the polished wooden floors. High ceilings weredecorated with intricate patterns, and ornate chandeliers hung suspended in theair.
Dominating onewall was a colossal fireplace, its mantel adorned with trinkets and figurinesfrom bygone eras. However, what truly caught Finn’s attention were the swordsmounted above the grand four-poster bed. Two Scottish claymores, their hiltsinterwoven, blades gleaming under the room’s light.
“Look atthose,” Finn breathed, walking over and admiring them closely. “Authentic Scottishclaymores. Must be centuries old.”
Opening thedoor to the adjoining room, Winters and Finn saw that the room was a mirrorimage of Finn’s in its grandeur, perhaps even a little grander. She smirked asshe caught his fascination with the weapons and pointed to the ones above herown bed. “Do you fancy a duel later?”
Finn chuckled.“Nah, you’d have an advantage over me, spending some of your childhood inScotland and all. You have to admit, these are impressive.”
Wintersglanced at the adjoining door that connected their rooms. “Speaking of which,”she began with a teasing tone, “I’m not entirely comfortable with this set-up.Might barricade the door.”
With a look ofmock offense, Finn responded, “Hey, I’m just here for the history, remember?” Hegave his own plush bed an experimental bounce, his shoes still on, andgleefully flopped down, sinking into its softness.
Winterswatched, amusement evident in her eyes. “Remember, Finn,” she began, leaningagainst the door frame, “we’re not here on holiday. There’s a killer on theloose.”
