Riley Fenn's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

Riley woke before dawn with the logbook tucked under her pillow. She needed to go back once more. Not for evidence — she had that. She wanted to check the shelves again, to memorize the stamps and names so she could speak about them clearly at the assembly. She dressed quickly and crossed the wet grass toward the slope. The blue door stood slightly open. Riley stopped. She had closed it behind her. She was certain. Inside, the velvet case lay empty. The crystal blanks were gone. Riley stepped further in. Her boots crunched on something small. She looked down. Broken acorn shells lay scattered across the floor, leading from the shelves to a small wooden chest pushed against the wall. The chest sat open. Inside, more acorns, split and emptied. Someone had waited here, eating, watching the door. The shells were dry. Whoever had taken the blanks was already long gone. She checked the back wall. The mossy stone hatch she'd missed before stood ajar, its hidden door swung wide on cleverly camouflaged hinges. That was where the blanks had been kept in bulk. Empty now. Riley's stomach turned. Halver knew she'd been here. He had moved the materials before she could bring witnesses. Without the blanks beside the logbook, the assembly would only see handwriting. Halver could claim the book was forged against him. Riley walked back to the candlelit pond on the path home, the logbook heavy under her coat. She would still testify. But she would walk in alone, with paper against a man's word, and she knew exactly how that sounded. The advantage she'd held last night was gone. Tomorrow she'd speak anyway.