The tavern was abuzz with the remnants of chaos, glasses clinking nervously as patrons tried to make sense of what had just transpired. Clara felt a shift in the air as Lila approached them, her face flushed with urgency. The way she held her phone in a vice grip suggested that whatever news she carried weighed heavy on her mind.
“What’s in the email?” Clara pressed, concern knotting her stomach.
Lila opened her phone, her fingers trembling as she swiped through screens. “It looks like Oliver had been researching connections between notable families — including the Larks. He believed he had discovered something critical regarding the smuggling operations, but he seems to have feared for his safety.”
“What do you mean ‘feared for his safety’?” Marco interjected, eyebrows furrowing.
“Here,” Lila said, thrusting the phone toward Clara. “He sent this just before he was killed.”
Clara scanned the email quickly, the screen illuminating her face with cold blue light.
Subject: Urgent: What I Found
“Lila,
I’ve been investigating the smuggling records, and I think I’ve uncovered something significant. It appears several prominent families have hidden links to organized crime, and I have reason to believe that this isn't just historic but ongoing.
I feel like I’m being watched, but I can’t stop now. If something happens to me, please go to the archives and look for the ledger dated 1923. It will explain everything.
Trust no one.
—O.”
Clara’s heart raced as she processed the information. “The ledger dated 1923. It must contain the records Oliver was talking about. It’s a vital piece of evidence.”
Lila nodded, anxiety etched in her features. “But we have to be careful. If he was right about being watched, then those who wanted to silence him are still out there.”
Clara felt a fierce determination settle in. “Then we need to get to the archives before someone else does. The truth Oliver uncovered is more important now than ever.”
“Let’s move,” Marco said, urgency creeping into his voice. “But we should call for backup. We won’t be alone in there.”
Clara glanced around the tavern filled with wary eyes and anxious murmurs, the tension thick enough to cut through the damp air. “Right. Lila, you should stay here—too many eyes are on you.”
“No,” Lila insisted, shaking her head vigorously. “If there’s a chance Oliver left something behind, I want to help. I owe him that much.”
Clara felt a wave of gratitude for Lila’s loyalty, yet a pang of worry twisted in her gut. “Fine, but you need to keep your head down.”
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The town archives were housed in a weathered brick building on the outskirts of Blackwater Bay, standing stoic against the elements. Clara’s mind raced as they made their way inside, navigating through narrow aisles filled with dusty volumes and ancient records. The faint smell of mildew mingled with the scent of paper, steeped in history.
“According to Oliver, we need to look for the ledger from 1923,” Clara murmured, scanning the rows of shelves lined with leather-bound tomes. “It should be in the main records room.”
As Clara guided Lila and Marco to the back, a sense of foreboding washed over her. She could feel the ghosts of the past lingering in the air, and every creak of the wooden floorboards heightened her awareness.
Upon reaching an ornate oak door, Clara hesitated, glancing at Marco. “Stay alert.”
Pushing the door open, they stepped into the records room, an expansive area littered with documentation. Dust had settled on everything as though time had forgotten this corner of the world. The faint hum of overhead lights barely penetrated the stillness.
Clara glanced around, searching for anything resembling a ledger. “I’ll look here,” she said, moving toward a table piled high with records while Marco began rifling through adjacent shelves.
“Found it!” Marco called out, excitement punctuating the stillness. He pulled a thick, leather-bound book from the shelf, its spine cracked with age. As he handed it to Clara, she felt a rush of adrenaline.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“This is it,” she affirmed, flipping it open. The pages were filled with neat cursive, but the handwriting appeared to shift and morph as the years progressed, leading to an unpredictable assortment of names and transactions.
“Let’s see if Oliver was right,” Marco said, leaning over her shoulder.
Clara began scanning the pages, tracing the lines with her finger until she reached the year inscribed on the spine: 1923. A few entries caught her eye. Notable names surfaced: the Larks, the Ashfords, and the Blackwoods—long-standing families with fingers in multiple ventures around the bay.
“Look,” she pointed out, breathless. “Here, it lists transactions of luxury goods matching those that were reported missing during the smuggling trials. They covered it up! This ties the families to the crime.”
Lila peered over Clara’s shoulder, wide-eyed. “What does this mean for Oliver?”
“It means he was right about them being intertwined in the past,” Clara replied. “But I need to keep searching for more. There has to be something else.”
That’s when Clara noticed something unusual—a thin piece torn from the ledger, margins jagged and torn. She turned to Marco, her voice urgent. “This page isn’t located here. It looks like someone hasn’t been as careful with their secrets as they thought.”
“Then we need to find that page,” Marco confirmed, already searching through the rest of the ledger. “Can you believe Oliver found this?”
“I can,” Clara replied, heart racing. “He always knew something was buried beneath the surface, and it cost him.”
She continued flipping through pages until suddenly, the overhead lights flickered. Clara froze—internally berating herself for losing her sense of surroundings. “Did you see that?” she whispered.
Marco nodded, a troubled look crossing his face. “Yeah. We should move—this might be a sign we’re not alone.”
They continued to search, pacing across different aisles within the records room. A chill crept into Clara’s bones, unsettling her more than the chilling wind outside.
It was in that moment that Clara’s heart sank as she heard footsteps approaching. “Someone’s coming. Hide!” she hissed, motioning Lila and Marco behind the stacks.
Barely seconds passed before the door swung open again, and an imposing figure stepped inside—Hannah Lark, with an air of determination and fear. Clara could feel her pulse quickening; the woman was clearly not a welcome presence.
“Hannah, what are you doing here?” Clara asked, keeping her voice low yet fierce.
“I should ask you the same,” Hannah retorted, an unsettling steeliness in her eyes. “You have no idea the dangers you’re toying with.”
“We have every right to be here,” Marco stated, stepping forward, but Clara placed a hand on his arm, sensing the mounting tension.
“The truth can be dangerous, Hannah,” Clara said carefully, not wanting to provoke her further. “You know that better than anyone.”
Hannah chuckled bitterly, cutting through the thick air. “You're teetering on the edge, Detective. Oliver thought he was invincible too.”
“What do you know about Oliver?” Clara pressed, standing firm. “You clearly had a connection with him.”
“And I regret it,” Hannah replied, her voice low but fierce. “This town is built on lies and blood. Some secrets are buried for a reason.”
Clara stepped closer, undeterred. “If Oliver was killed because he found something important, we need to know what it was now more than ever.”
Hannah’s expression hardened, but Clara could see cracks forming in her facade, the doubts flickering within her. “Those people in town… powerful families. They have more to lose than you could imagine.”
Suddenly, the tension in the air shifted as a loud crash echoed outside the building, shattering the moment. Clara’s heart raced.
“Listen!” Lila exclaimed, eyes wide with worry. “We can’t stay here. We need to leave.”
“Right.” Clara nodded, glancing toward the door. “But we can’t leave without knowing everything.”
In that heartbeat of hesitation, Clara noticed a flash of fear cross Hannah’s face. “Get out of here, now!” she urged, urgency spiking in her voice.
Clara exchanged looks with Marco and Lila. They knew Hannah could be leading or misleading them, but they had no time to argue.
Keeping their heads low, they slipped into the shadows. The adrenaline coursed through Clara as they navigated the labyrinth of shelves, hoping to escape without being seen.
Ultimately, they reached the back entrance, slipping through a narrow door leading out into a dark alleyway behind the building—a place coated in shadows and far from the prying eyes of the townsfolk.
As they moved urgently down the alley, hopping over discarded crates and old crates, Clara allowed herself a moment to breathe, her mind racing with revelations and dread about their next course of action.
“Where do we go from here?” Marco asked, his voice tight, a consequence of their near miss.
“We need to find Oliver’s house, if he had anything else related to this past,” Clara said, glancing at Lila, whose face was pale but resolute. “He believed he had found something more significant, and if it’s hidden along with his things, we have to get to it first.”
“I know where he lived,” Lila confirmed, determination flaring in her eyes. “It’s not far from here.”
“Then let’s move,” Clara urged, adrenaline pushing them forward. “We need to be quick and careful.”
As they set off through the rain-soaked streets, silhouettes and shadows danced through Clara’s mind. There was so much at stake now—both for Oliver, Lila, and the buried secrets threatening to rise from the depths of Blackwater Bay.
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They arrived at Oliver’s home, a modest, quaint structure adorned with the remnants of its past life, standing silently beneath a canopy of trees. Clara glanced at Marco and Lila.
“Alright, we go in quickly, check for anything that ties back to the ledger,” Clara directed, shouldering her determination. “We’ll need to work fast.”
“Be careful,” Marco cautioned. “If they find out we’re here...”
“Then we won’t let them find out.” Clara cut him off, nodding apprehensively—his concern mirrored her own deep within, but she pushed it back for the moment. Steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, she made her way toward the door.
With one quick glance exchanged, Clara pushed the door open, stepping into the darkness that awaited.