Sydney stared at them. “Oh my gosh, you’re right.”
As I walked over to the right side, I pulled a few books out and handed them to Sydney. Knocking on the wood, I could tell then the sound changed from solid to hollow.
“Where is the lever on yours?” I asked.
“Wait. In the original letter we read from Quinn, she stated to open the compartment by doing something to the sconces.”
I reached up and gently pulled on the sconce. It didn’t take much effort to feel it slip to the side.
“Mike! It moved!”
“Hopefully, I’m not breaking it,” I said as I moved it a little more and felt a click.
“The door popped open!” Sydney rushed over and looked inside. “It’s a small journal!”
“Grab it and start taking pictures of it.”
“Why don’t we just take it?” she asked. “Mike, no one knows it is here. Look at the dust on this thing. It hasn’t been touched in over a hundred years, I bet.”
“Syd, I already feel a weight of guilt knowing I took the letter from the graveyard. If we take this journal, it’s stealing.”
“From who? It’s been here for years.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. A part of me knew it was wrong to take it and I struggled with the need to leave it. I had taken the paper without a second thought, though, caught up in the moment of it all. The other part of me knew Sydney was right, and these all seemed to be clues left behind for people to find.
“Okay, let’s put these books back,” I said, finally deciding that no one was ever going to find this journal if it had been there all these years.
I turned the sconce back to the right position while Sydney put the books back.
“What about Thomas Hutchinson’s book?” Sydney asked.
“I don’t think it holds any clues. Let’s take this and head on back to Provincetown.”
“There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I don’t think I can wait that long to go through the journal. I need to see what’s in it.” She chewed on her lip in the most adorable way.
“We have two options. Stay with my dad tonight or get a hotel here.”
“Option number two, please. I… uhh… you know… We… uh… maybe… Do I have to keep going, or are you getting my drift?”
“Option two it is.”
An hour later, Sydney and I were in a room at the Marriott on the wharf. Sydney sat on the bed and held the journal while I took a seat in the chair across from her.
She took a deep breath. “Ready?”