Every House Has a Secret - 14

 

 

The first thing Brady took out was obviously a pistol, wrapped in cotton batting. He unwrapped it carefully, laying it on the batting. "S&W, Model Ten."

 

"If you say so," Rand said.

 

Brady nodded. "I do. They were popular with cops back in the sixties and early seventies. Not to say this one belonged to a cop."

 

Next he took out an envelope. Inside there were several photos. Two were of four men. "I'd say they didn't know someone was taking their picture since this was shot from outside a restaurant window," he commented. "If I were to guess, probably from across the street." The men were sitting in a booth. One shot was of two of them on one side of the booth, the other photo was of the men seated across from them. An 'X' had been marked over two of the faces.

 

"That doesn't bode well," Rand said. "A killer's targets?"

 

"Maybe." Brady handed him the next photo. It showed a woman kneeling, her arms around two boys who Rand estimated were eight and ten. She was looking at one of them, leaving her face in profile. The last photo was of the boys, alone. Turning it over, he saw a barely legible date handwritten on the back—1968.

 

"Nice looking kids," Rand commented. "Are they the sons of the man who owned the gun, and maybe the house?"

 

"I'd say yes to the first, and who knows to the second."

 

Rand nodded. "It makes me wonder if something happened to them, and to their mother, because of something the men in the photos did. If so, maybe whoever this belonged to decided to take things into his own hands and kill them."

 

"It would make a good story."

 

"Ah, but is it the truth?" Rand settled back on his heels. "We have to find out who owned the house when these were taken."

 

"It's possible the boys—" Brady tapped the photo, "—were the ones who, according to the realtor, inherited the house from their father and then walked away, abandoning it."

 

"Meaning they're still alive. We need names to start with."

 

"Easily done, but not until we get home."

 

"So what are we waiting for?" Rand said, getting up. "We can plaster tomorrow night."

 

Brady laughed. "Your reporter gene kicking in?"

 

"Your detective one isn't?"

 

"It is." Brady put everything back in the box. "Re-cover the hole, just in case."

 

It took Rand a second to get what he meant. "In case whoever did own the house before us weren't telling the truth about inheriting it, and was looking for this?"

 

"Yeah. It's possible the plaster fell off after they left."

 

"If it didn't, and they'd fixed it, or tried to, they would have found the hidey-hole, and we wouldn't have."

 

"Yep. Probably."

 

They turned off the overhead light, and the others they'd turned on when they arrived, locked up, and then drove back to their apartment.