We walk the space, using the flashlights on our phones to light up the areas under the sinks, and in the cabinets.
“Damn it, my phone died,” Andy says with a scowl. “I had a full battery when I got here.”
“Odd,” I murmur, checking my phone. I’m down to ten percent.
I also arrived with a full battery.
I turn the flashlight off to save power.
“Come on. This is the really fucked-up room.” I lead Andy to the back of the house, where Horace used to hold the girls.
I flick on the lights.
“Jesus Christ,” my brother breathes as he walks in behind me.
“They took the beds.” I gesture to the wall opposite us. “There were three toddler-sized beds there where he tied them up. Over there was the workbench and all of his tools, and in that corner was an electric chair.”
“The blood on the floor,” he whispers. “Jesus, Cash, there must be gallons.”
I nod, taking it all in. I don’t know why we’re here. I don’t know what I expect to find. The police took everything to test for blood and other bodily fluids, and to discover hairs…anything.
“The smell is still rank,” I say as we pace the space. “I would think that after they took out the girls and all of his tools, the smell would lessen.”
“It should,” Andy agrees, then stops and sets his hands on his hips.
I walk toward him, and then he holds his hand up. “Stop.”
“What?”
“Walk that path again.”
I do as he asks, and when I turn around, I see him eyeing the floor.
“Do it again.”
I walk back and forth several times.
“What do you see?”
“It’s not what I see, it’s what I hear. I think there’s something under us.”
The hair stands up on the back of my neck. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not.”
We walk to the door that leads out of the room then out to a tall deck that hovers over the swamp.
“It’s water,” I point out when I turn on my flashlight and shine it on the swamp below. “No door to a basement. I don’t think there could be a basement.”
“I’m telling you, it sounded hollow in one spot when you walked over it.”
“This is an old house,” I remind him as we go back inside. “It’s bound to sound weird. Make odd noises.”
He shakes his head and walks back and forth. He’s pushing against one board with his toe when, suddenly, the board pops up as if it’s loose.
“Bingo,” Andy says triumphantly.
We pry the board out and reveal a trap door. It fits so seamlessly into the floor of the room that there’s no way anyone would know it’s there unless they put it there.
“Do you have enough battery in your phone for this?” Andy asks me.
“I hope so, because I’m not going down there in the dark,” I reply, just before we pull up the door, revealing a ladder that descends into a deep, wide room.
“There’s a switch.” He flips it, and lights come on below. “Cash.”
“I see it.”
“My God.”
We’re both lying on our stomachs, staring into the room below.
“It has to be lined with iron or something strong that keeps the water out,” I murmur. “And I’d love to know how he got all of those freezers down there.”
“Dozens of them,” Andy says then looks up at me. “You get zero guesses as to what’s in them.”
“Looks like we’re going down.”
I put my phone in my pocket and head down first. The ladder is sturdy, not creaking in the least as we make our descent.
The freezers run along the perimeter of the room, side by side, on all four walls.
I haven’t even thought about what could possibly be in the cupboards above the freezers.
Once Andy’s beside me, I flex my hand and then reach out for a handle.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Bodies? Yes, but cut up into parts in this one. It looks like this is a freezer full of hands. The next one is legs. And then heads.
Dozens of heads, staring forward but missing their eyes.
In one massive chest freezer, we find three intact stacked bodies.
“Cupboards,” Andy says with a grim sigh. “The smell is worse.”
“You open it.”
He shakes his head but does as I ask.
Jars of hearts. At least, that’s what they look like. One cupboard has nothing but intestines.
Not in jars.
Another cabinet has rows and rows of containers of blood.
“It looks like when someone’s mom cans tomatoes to get through the winter,” Andy says. “Blood-style. Was he a fucking vampire?”
“No, he was collecting the blood for Millie. At least, that’s what he said in his diary.”
“Sick fuck.”
I open another cabinet, but there are no body parts. There’s nothing but a huge, black book.
I take it off the shelf and pass it to Andy.
“Don’t open that. I don’t know what’s in it, or if it’s spelled. I’m going to take it back to Brielle and Miss Sophia. Maybe it’s something they can use.”