Page 46 of Deception

The darkness made it difficult to ascertain, and the windows were too high for her to see inside. They were surprisingly intact, however.

Olive needed to be certain the place was deserted.

“This way,” she whispered to Nova.

Olive climbed the rickety steps—held up only by cinder blocks—leading to the porch.

She slowly paced toward the door and twisted the handle.

To her surprise, it opened.

But as she took a step forward, the floor beneath her disappeared.

CHAPTER 25

Olive let out a gasp as her body plunged downward.

“Olive!” Nova yelled as she reached toward her.

But it was too late.

Olive’s feet slammed into the ground, and sharp boards pressed into her sides.

The jarring impact shot pain through her legs and into her torso.

She moaned. The floor had collapsed, Olive realized. Most likely because of age, based on the splintering of the wood.

“Are you okay?” Nova dropped to her knees beside the hole in the porch.

“I guess I should have been more careful.” Olive grimaced with pain. “Help me up?”

“Of course.” Nova took her hand and pulled.

It took a couple of tries, but Olive finally climbed out of the splintered hole and stood on the floor. She carefully tested the boards beneath her this time.

She glanced at Nova and gave her a knowing look. “Watch your step.”

Nova snorted. “You think?”

Olive glared—playfully. Kind of.

Then she stepped into the house and shined her flashlight around the place.

The interior looked as if someone had left this place frozen in time when it had been abandoned—possibly as long as forty years ago. Since then, critters had made their way inside. Spiderwebs hung in corners, and a hole—probably put there by a rodent—gaped from one of the throw pillows.

A pale-pink sofa and loveseat trimmed in glossy—but dusty—wood sat against two walls with a matching glossy table. Flowery drapes that matched the pink couch hung atop the windows, dry-rotted with age.

Olive slipped into the kitchen, which was more of the same. Except this time instead of pink, everything from the stovetop to the refrigerator and wallpaper was avocado green and mustard yellow.

The flecked Formica countertops were empty—other than a piece of trim that had fallen from the cabinets—almost as if the previous owner had left the place in good condition, just in case.

Just in case what? Someone wanted to buy it? In case the owners returned to it one day? Exactly what was the story behind this house?

Maybe Olive would look into it later.

For now, she searched the rest of the place, Nova on her heels.

When she reached the bedrooms, she expected to find one of them had been outfitted with high-tech equipment. She expected monitors with a feed showing Rebecca’s house.