out.”
Dust floated through the opening, and Ivy sneezed.
“Here you go,” Shelly said. She held up her phone to shine the built-in flashlight across the damaged wall. “Maybe we can fix it. Or get the guys to help.”
Blinking through the dusty air, Ivy peered ahead. “Wait a minute. Bring that light closer.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, but I feel a draft.”
Shelly steadied the light. “Can you see anything?”
“Not much.” Ivy reached a hand into the space. “Can you give me the light?”
Shelly passed the phone to her, and Ivy shone it into the darkness. “Oh, wow.” She scrambled to her feet and turned around. “There’s another room back there. I saw a rack of clothes.”
Shelly’s eyes widened. “Let’s go. Maybe that’s where Amelia hid the gold.”
“What gold?”
Her sister sighed. “Isn’t there always hidden treasure in the old mystery shows? Surely Amelia kept a nest egg stashed away. She hid everything else. I’m expecting to find stacks of gold bars or baskets of coins any day now.”
“You’re too funny.” Ivy pushed the suitcases aside. “Why didn’t we see this on the plans?”
“I have no idea,” Shelly replied. “I was looking for a space labeled Secret Room, but I didn’t see it. Maybe this was built later.”
Ivy drew a breath and glanced at her sister. “Ready?”
Shelly grinned. “Here we go again.”
Ivy shone the light ahead, and they stepped inside a small, windowless room so quiet that even their footsteps seemed muffled in the heavy, decades-old silence.
As Shelly swept the light across the darkness, Ivy gasped. As if suspended in mid-air, a form of a woman seemed to float before them.
6
An ivory dress from a bygone era shimmered in the shaft of light. Ivy stepped toward it. On closer inspection, the long vintage gown skimmed a dressmaker’s form. This is what had appeared suspended in air.
Ivy expelled a breath of relief.
“For a moment there, I thought we’d found our ghost,” Shelly said. She swung the back panel of the closet wider.
“Shh,” Ivy said, rubbing her arms. She got chills whenever someone mentioned spirits. Whatever she’d seen in her room that day—now months ago—she refused to call it a ghost.
Shelly chuckled. “Afraid Amelia will hear us?”
“I’ve warned you before about that.” Ivy shook her head and stepped around the dress. A row of tiny, silk-covered buttons lined the back of the dress, from the neckline to below the waist.
She swung the light across the room. Next to the dressmaker’s form was a wood-framed loveseat and a side table with a lantern and a rattan sewing basket. Beside the basket sat a silver thimble and a spool of ivory thread with a needle jabbed through the wound thread. A small skein of silky thread lay next to that, along with a small, ornate pair of scissors.
The nostalgic tableau was evocative of a time long past, yet it also suggested someone had just left the room, intending to return.
Why hadn’t they? Ivy wondered.
Shelly brushed dust from the shoulders of the dress. “Looks like an evening gown. Very old, but gorgeous.”
Ivy sized up the intricate design. Slim fit, draped silk, delicate lace. “This style looks like it might have been from the first part of the last century. Probably Edwardian, because skirt lengths rose in the 1920s. Someone must have been working on this dress.”
She swept the light to another hanger that held lengths of folded lace. Several garments hung beside that. “Let’s move these clothes into the light so we can get a better look.”
Working together, they brought the old garments, the dressmaker’s form, and the sewing basket and lantern into Ivy’s room.
Ivy pushed the drapes aside, trying to let more light into the room to examine their discovery. Raindrops were pelting the window, but the sun was already trying to peek through the clouds. Spring showers were often intermittent on the coastline.
“This dress is beautifully constructed,” Ivy said, settling onto the bench in front of the bed. “Ivory silk charmeuse, beaded lace trim with real pearls, fully finished interior seams. You hardly ever see this type of artistry now, except on very expensive clothes.”
The gown was cinched at the waist, with a skirt that flowed into a bell shape. Luxurious and feminine. Ivy could just imagine a woman wearing this.
“Wow, look at this,” Shelly said, holding up a full-length lace coat. “It probably goes with it.”
“That’s striking.” Ivy ran her fingers along the garment. “Just look at this standing corded collar. Imagine how it would frame the face.” She inspected the scalloped lace and tiny silk-covered