All the debris had been removed, and the burnt trees chopped down but there was no hiding the huge crater left by the explosion. Ironically one wall of the old house still stood. Graham’s thoughts returned to that time, an urgent push to arrive in time to save Bailey, pulling her out of the house before Geoff blew it sky high.
How could he have survived that? And who else would have done the same thing to Dorothea’s house?
Graham and Guy had been searching for some time for an escape route, checking for any depressions that might lead to an underground tunnel. They had dug about fifteen holes in attempts to uncover a shaft. Graham tossed a shovelful to the side before jabbing the blade in the ground and leaning on the handle grip. Guy was still working away like a demon after his quarry.
“Good job ‘ol boy.”
Guy swore before chucking a mound of dirt at him. Graham grinned as he dodged it. Guy copied his stance.
“Who said you could stop? Get crackin’ man, we have work to do.”
Guy grimaced before glancing around the area. “Come over here.”
Graham made his way over to him.
“Okay. So, assume you’re Geoff—”
“That would be a stretch.”
They both peered at the remaining wall. There wasn’t much to look at. Geoff had cunningly built a fortified house inside of an existing ramshackle structure. Graham hadn’t paid much attention to the remnants of the wall emerging from the ground. He moved toward it. It was blackened and charred. With his shovel, he whacked it in a few places, Guy following suit. It was when Guy reached the bottom left-hand corner that they heard a distinct hollow tone. Using their shovels, they pried away at the wall. When the sturdy bricks would not give, they dug down a few feet. And there buried underneath it all was a latch. As Guy reached for it, Graham raised his shovel like a baseball bat. It was times like these that he wished he still carried a gun.
Guy slowly lifted the heavy trap door, dropping it onto the ground behind the hole. Both peered into what appeared to be a well-fortified tunnel. Guy reached inside with his shovel, the implement disappearing into the blackness after only a few meters.
“Son of a bitch. He did get away.”
“It appears that way.”
“So everything with our business, the wedding, the explosion at Dorothea’s... it all makes sense now.”