Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (classic books for 11 year olds .TXT) 📗

“I found the key in a jacket pocket. I think it’s Rick’s.”

Tina explained how she had gone snooping around the office, looking for anything that might explain the ever-increasing suspicion that something was afoot. “I need to get that key and find out what, if anything, he’s doing down there.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t imagine it’s anything good. What if he catches you?”

“He’ll be mad,” Tina said matter-of-factly. “But that’s par for the course.”

Rick was always pissed off at her for one reason or another. Sometimes, her mere existence seemed to agitate him.

“The male ego is a fragile thing. He’s threatened by you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Rick was the eldest son, which meant he had been born with special privileges the rest of them didn’t have. He had been blessed with good health and a strong body. Maybe he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but more often than not, his problems came from poor choices and not a lack of intelligence.

“Is it?” Lottie mused. She let the question hang between them for a moment before continuing, “In any event, I agree that your brother’s recent behavior suggests he’s gotten himself—and possibly all of you—into some real trouble.”

That was what Tina was afraid of, too. “Even more reason why I need to find out what’s going on.”

“I don’t like the idea of you sneaking around by yourself.”

“I can’t just sit idly by and wait for shit to hit the fan, Gram.”

“Have you tried talking to Gunther and Kiefer?”

“No,” Tina said, shaking her head. “Chances are, if Rick did do something stupid, Gunther was the one who’s behind it. I suppose I could try talking to Kief, but you know he doesn’t have the stones to stand up to Rick or Gunther.”

“What about your young man? He’s a SEAL, isn’t he? Perhaps he can help. If nothing else, he can have your six.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Tina’s lips quirked. “You’ve been watching that show on television again, haven’t you? The one about Navy SEALs?”

“Well”—Lottie sniffed—“it’s quite educational. You should watch it, too. It could give you some valuable insight in your Dr. Watson. Those boys, they’re wired differently.”

That Tina already knew. Doc was unlike any man she’d ever met.

But she couldn’t involve him in this. It was one thing for her to go poking around. If she got caught, the most she’d catch was an earful. But if Doc were involved and Rick found out, tensions between Rick’s idiot friends and Sanctuary could escalate exponentially. She’d been keeping her relationship with Doc under wraps for exactly that reason even though she was now convinced her future lay with him.

When she told Lottie as much, the older woman was forced to admit she had a point.

“I still don’t like it,” Lottie told her.

“I know. But someone has to do it.”

“Just be careful, dear.”

“I will.”

* * *

One thing about older houses, every door had its own key.

Another thing: there was usually a skeleton key that unlocked them all.

And Tina knew where the skeleton key was because her grandfather had given it to her.

Whether it would work on the root cellars, she didn’t know. But she was about to find out.

Under the cover of darkness, Tina made her way across the fields on foot toward the hill that housed the underground cellars. The good news was, the entrance wasn’t visible from the family farmhouse where she’d grown up and Rick now lived.

The first cellar had been built next to where the original homestead once stood, back in the days when underground springs served as natural refrigerators. That house had been little more than a shack, a humble home for the first Obermacher to settle in the area.

The cellars had a fascinating history. Over the years, generations of Obermachers had expanded on the single-room storage area to a larger network now consisting of several chambers. Not only were the constant cool temperatures ideal for storing root crops throughout the year, but they were also good for crafting and aging wine, mead, and grain-based alcohols—something that had become particularly lucrative for her great-great-grandfather, Ezekiel Obermacher, during the Prohibition era.

According to Tina’s grandfather, Ezekiel had expanded his business by employing dozens of local anthracite miners to create secret tunnels and passageways in exchange for free hooch.

By the time Tina had come along, most of those tunnels had been closed off and the stills long since disassembled, but for a little girl who was forced to spend the hottest, sunniest parts of the day inside, it was a magical, secret place. She’d wiled away quite a few hours there with her grandfather, listening to his stories and drinking juice while he experimented.

Tina believed that was where her passion had originated. He had encouraged her to try new things, to keep improving, and to always strive for something better.

A wave of nostalgia and lingering grief washed over her. She missed her grandfather terribly. He’d passed away before she earned her degree, but she thought he would have been proud. At least, she hoped he would have been.

Tina took a deep breath and slid the skeleton key into the ancient lock. She had to jiggle it a little, but a moment later, it settled into place, and with a turn of her wrist, the lock opened with a decisive snick.

The scents of cool, damp earth, stone, and wood filled her nostrils, bringing back a slew of memories. Reaching into her pocket, she extracted a powerful halogen flashlight and turned it on.

At first glance, the entrance looked much the way it always had—a gateway to another time and place. Massive wooden beams and stonework kept the walls and ceiling from collapsing inward. Along the right side was the stone-lined trench, where spring-fed water continued to flow in a gentle trickle. To the left, hand-smithed black metal rods protruded from between the rocks. Their original purpose had been lost to history, but Tina believed they’d once held oil lamps and sacks of foodstuff suspended above the packed dirt