🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Deep...
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A few hours had passed since the box with the strange contents had been found. But the key kept Liam in particular busy for quite some time. As if the devil was after him, the boy had run through the house and garden, trying every lock he could find.
Ryker had had to dodge the whirlwind more than once while unloading the truck; otherwise, he would not only have tripped over the boy but also over the dog chasing after him.
But Ray already suspected how the treasure hunt would end: unsuccessfully.
He knew most of the locks in the house and outside because the doors alone had given him a lot of work. Although there were old chests and boxes in the attic that would have been suitable for such a skeleton key, the box and its mysterious appearance left him in no doubt that no suitable lock could be found for it... at least not here...
The unsuccessful search had left Liam so exhausted that his eyelids closed during dinner, and Eve put her son to bed earlier than usual. Everyone seemed exhausted from the day, so Ryker also took the opportunity to move away from the dining table and retire to his room. After all, he still had work to do...
Cool air flowed through the tilted window into the guest room, which had become his home over the last few days. Behind it was the blackness of the night, lit only by small patches of stars, and the soft whisper of the wind mingled with the rustling of the leaves. An owl called in the distance.
Ryker sat upright on the pillows, his back leaning against the edge of the bed. Only the tiny bedside lamp illuminated the small room with its dim, warm glow. His gaze flickered briefly to the window at the faint call of an owl. In earlier times and rural areas like this, such a call meant danger, sometimes even death.
He was not superstitious. Not usually, anyway. But the owl's lonely call did nothing to improve his mood. What had happened tugged at his nerves and wore him down because he always had more questions than he could find answers to. It was as if a fog lay over the place, growing thicker and thicker instead of clearing.
The bed frame creaked softly as Ray sat up briefly to adjust the pillow at his back.
"What nonsense," he muttered quietly and shook his head vigorously. The papers next to him rustled softly with his movement and shifted into an unholy mess. His gaze lingered scrutinizingly on the white lacquered door with the copper handle. Ray listened for movement in the hallway but only heard the muffled voices of Riona and Eve on the first floor.
