Annslee Urban - Smoky Mountain Investigation

Nick’s brows pulled together. “You sure you want to do that?”

Kylie nodded with more confidence than she felt. But she agreed with Nick’s earlier theory. The caller’s cryptic clues probably weren’t random. She needed to see, needed to exhaust this search.

“Come on.” Her legs went to putty, but determination carried her. She grabbed his hand, surprised by his grip. Firm, tight and undeniably possessive.

She groaned inwardly, pushing aside the illogical nostalgia parading through her.

Dave wasn’t as quick to agree as Kylie suspected; in fact he didn’t see the point, since they’d scoured the place already. But after a little rationalizing and a lot of insistence, he agreed to accompany them to the hayloft. As he’d described, dust and clutter filled the cramped space. After Mr. and Mrs. Plyler died several years ago, the children had scattered, moving to different parts of the country. They were still fighting over the estate. The hundred-plus acres, including the barn, sat untouched. And it showed.

The high-intensity beams of flashlights cast distorted shadows across the area, adding to the oppressive climate of the evening, which made staying close to Nick a necessity.

“There’s nothing up here,” Dave grumbled under his breath.

Nick didn’t stop his investigation. He pushed aside dangling cobwebs and flashed his light into every nook and cranny. Kylie moved along beside him, although quickly coming to the same conclusion as Dave.

“Look at this.” Nick knelt down and directed his light on the side of a small box. Big Sky Fireworks Company. Sumter, SC.

He slipped on the latex gloves Dave had given him and looked over at Kylie, his eyes narrowing. “Start taking notes, Reporter Harper. I think we’ve just hit pay dirt.”

Emotion lumped in Kylie’s throat. She gave a short nod.

With expert precision, Nick carefully peeled back each flap of the box.

The rush of blood pounding in Kylie’s ears merged with the roar of distant thunder. She tried not to jump, tried not to breathe.

Dave came up beside her and glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like nothing more than a bunch of old papers.”

Nick picked through the loose pages and pulled a bundle from underneath. “Shine your light over here, Dave.”

Dave targeted his flashlight on the bound file in Nick’s hands.

Nibbling her lip, Kylie watched carefully as Nick slipped off a rubber band and the bulging folder popped open. Dozens of rough-cut newspaper articles and photos flew into the air before scattering onto the uneven loft floor at Nick’s feet.

Setting the empty folder aside, Nick started collecting the documents on the floor.

Kylie gasped and her body went rigid when she realized she was looking at articles she’d written, along with four-by-eight black-and-white prints—of her.

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