What the Shed Was Hiding

The man inside the walls had never left. He hadn’t slipped away beneath the house when the police came. He had gone up instead.

A tortured groan traveled down the narrow shaft. One boot shifted on a rung, and powdery plaster sifted over my fingers.

He was listening for us.

I couldn’t call out to Dad or shout for the officers gathered below. The man would know I’d discovered him. Dad and Major Evans were outdoors; local police watched Brenda near their cars.

Leo was alone in his room, only a few steps away. If the stranger came down, my little brother would be helpless.

The shaft groaned again. A boot edged lower.

My pulse battered my chest. I held my hand still and eased the loose section of wall toward its opening, moving so slowly it hurt.

I guided it into place rather than letting it fall. The catch couldn’t make a sound. I was afraid even a faint click would betray me.

At last the panel sat even with the trim. I pulled away my hand, leaving the hallway as ordinary as before.

I turned and hurried back to Leo’s room, keeping my steps light.

He was perched on his bed, pulling the zipper closed on his blue backpack. His face changed the second he saw mine.

His lips parted. I covered his mouth before he could ask what was wrong.

“Stay quiet,” I whispered, barely shaping the words. “Take your bag. We have to go now.”

I lifted him against one arm despite the hot pull in my shoulder and took his backpack with the other. I wouldn’t look toward the wall or overhead.

I hurried down the stairs, holding Leo close. My feet struck the steps hard, each thump seeming loud enough to reach the hidden man.

When we reached the living room, I called out with all the breath I had. “Dad! Evans!”

Dad rushed inside, his boots skidding on the floor. Major Evans followed, one hand moving toward the holster at his side.

Dad’s gaze swept the room. “What happened?”

“There’s a man still in the house,” I said, pointing up the stairs with a trembling hand. “He’s in the HVAC column, and he’s climbed into the attic.”

Evans reacted at once, lifting his shoulder radio to summon the officers. Within moments, the quiet rooms filled with armed police moving inside.

Dad ushered Leo and me through the front door, putting himself between us and the house. His grip on my jacket was firm.

Red and blue lights pulsed across the driveway and the surrounding homes. The afternoon light was fading, and long shadows stretched over the neat lawns.

I kept Leo pressed close to my side. Dad stood in front of us, his jaw set as we listened to officers move through the house.

Their steps climbed the stairs in a steady rush. From an upstairs window, an officer called that the attic entrance was in the main bedroom closet.

A crashing blow followed as they forced their way in. Then the house fell quiet.

Dad squeezed my shoulder, trying to steady me. He kept watching the second-floor windows, waiting for someone to appear.

The minutes crawled past. No shots came. No one shouted.

Major Evans finally emerged through the front door. He had put his weapon away, but frustration tightened his expression as he came toward Dad.

“He’s not there, David,” Evans said. His voice was low and hard.

I stepped out from behind Dad. “I saw his boots on the ladder. He was right above me.”

“I’m not doubting you,” Evans replied, rubbing his face. “We located the panel you told us about. It goes up into the rafters.”

Dad’s hands curled. “Then where did he go?”

Evans pointed toward the far side of the roof. The wooden slats of a gable vent had been forced outward; the man had climbed through, crossed the roof, and dropped over a neighbor’s fence.

Beyond the houses, the wooded greenbelt swallowed the view. The officers had searched the yard, but the fugitive was already out of sight.

My stomach turned cold. The stranger who had hidden inside our walls was loose in the darkening woods.

“We’ve got a perimeter,” Evans said, answering the fury in Dad’s face. “K-9 teams are following his trail, and state troopers are closing off the highways. We’ll find him.”

Dad’s stare shifted toward the trees behind the subdivision. “What about Brenda? What did she say?”