“What is all of this?”

He stumbled into an open space crammed with boxes and sheet-covered furniture. Too curious to stop himself, he snuck a quick peek into one of the boxes with his light. A flash of gold nearly blinded him. He reached inside, pulling out a solid gold candelabra. His jaw dropped.

“This can’t be real.”

He put the candelabra down and moved a sheet, uncovering a large oil painting and, beside it, a finely crafted marble bust. Ben could hardly believe his eyes. Treasure. It was the treasure. A man like Arnaud could live comfortably from the rewards each piece would no doubt provide him, or what money he could earn from a wealthier benefactor.

There was indeed gold, but he would never have guessed they had hidden an entire museum.

Now’s not the time! Ben covered everything back up the best he could, planning to return for it later. If there was a later.

With his lamp in hand, Ben searched the rest of the area. Thankfully, there was a second chamber behind the storage, and at its core was a set of stone steps. Ben gave it a once over, confused by its operation.

“Where the hell does it lead?” His voice echoed back his own frustration. He scanned the room quickly, spotting a lone table to one side. Ben hurried to it, relieved to find a set of blueprints.

The drawings were of the pulley and the stairs. Something connected it, and if he was reading it right, then that meant turning the pulley would open the ceiling above the steps. Ben had come so far, and so he did not hesitate to do as the drawing suggested. His father always enjoyed building things, tinkering with them when he could. It was a pastime he thought his father had abandoned, but seeing the tunnel underground in his study, he wondered what else the late Edgar Leone had hidden.

What other surprises lie ahead?

Ben moved to the pulley and gripped the handle. He tried to turn it, winded after only three rotations, but the sound of gears moving spurred him on. Sweat dripped down his face into the damp collar of his shirt. He persisted, and when the ceiling above the steps opened and a mechanism clicked, locking it in place, he knew he’d been right to take the tunnel.

She’s up there. I can feel it.

The steps were a short climb, opening up into a dark room. Once his eyes adjusted, he realized where he was standing. The mausoleum was a pleasant surprise, though shocking that the tunnel brought him there. He thought of Arthur Leone plotting out tunnels and passages to secure the safety of his family.

“Remi! Remi, get back here!”

Ben’s attention turned to the door. Outside, someone had called for Remi. He heard the sound of scuffling, and the creak of iron as the gate opened. His chest tightened, his hands already prying open the second set of doors. A figure fell through, light and breathless. Her blonde hair was unmistakable, even in the darkness. Remi was alive; she was safe.

He thanked himself for leaving the gate unlocked the night they stole away his father’s corpse.

“Shh,” he warned, closing the doors behind her.

Muffled though he was, he could still hear Arnaud calling out for her. Remi was soaked, her breathing shallow and labored. He wondered how long she’d been running in the rain.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Ben! How are you here?” The rawness in her trembling voice loosened the tight knot in his chest. He could have kissed her, he wanted to, but there was a madman stalking her outside. They were not yet safe.

“Try to keep your voice down.” He felt along her body to her arms, if only to know she was unharmed. He felt cool metal in her hand, a remarkable discovery. “A gun?”

Through her rushed explanation, he heard, “Hugo” and “stole it.”

“You are unfailingly clever.” They had the upper hand with a weapon, and with him there, Arnaud would have no idea what he was walking into. I’m going to marry her, I swear it.

Arnaud called out again, closer than before. The mausoleum would be an obvious place to search, especially with their family name engraved along the top of the door. They had seconds before her uncle clambered into the unassuming space.

Ben leaned down, brushing Remi’s cheek with his lips. “Give me the gun.”

She relented and he moved her behind his body, shielding her from her uncle. Ben steadied himself and pulled back the hammer. It happened in a flash, within a breath, and the gun went off. Arnaud howled as he jerked from the impact, falling forward on the granite floor. Ben didn’t wait. He grabbed Remi’s hand and led her down the steps into the tunnel.

She winced at the bottom, collapsing from exhaustion.

“Is he dead?” She gasped.

“Don’t worry about him,” Ben said, studying her. In the lamplight, he could see the specks of mud on her skin and in her hair. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

“It’s my ankle,” she frowned. “I tripped and twisted it.”

She’d fallen somewhere in between where she’d been held and the mausoleum.

Above them, Arnaud groaned. Ben frowned and searched for the mechanism. After a moment, he found it and closed the tunnel off, lest Arnaud find the strength to pull himself down the stairs.

“Can you walk?” Ben turned his attention back to Remi.

“I fear I’ve spent myself running. It hurts terribly.” She winced as she tried to put pressure on it.

Ben stopped her with a light touch before he took a moment to tuck the gun into the waistband of his trousers. “Take this.”

He handed Remi the lamp from the table, then swept her off her feet. With her held tightly against his chest, he hastened down the tunnel, back toward the manor.

“Where are we?” Remi asked.

“Underground.”

“But how?”

“You should know,” he said. “You’re the one who found its entrance.”

She gasped. “The door in the study?”

He nodded. “You left it wide open. Thank you for that.”

“But, you were behind bars the last time I saw you. How is this possible? Am I dreaming?” she asked.

Ben stifled a laugh. “You’re not dreaming.”

“Tell me. How did you escape?”

He glanced down at her, blinded at first by the lamp, though its glow was dimming as the wick had burned down. Her eyes, the ocean still in them, raged with a storm like the one outside.

“Inspector Marceau,” Ben said. “I’ll thank him properly once we’re safe, but he let me out.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. In fact, he’s waiting for us at the end of the tunnel,” Ben said. “Without him, I never would have made it to you in time.”

“How did you know where to find me?” Remi asked.