Seizure(80)

Ben and I complied. Hunching his back to block our view, Chance spun the dial. Forward. Back. Forward. Then he twisted the handle and pulled.

The door didn’t budge.

A look of surprise crossed Chance’s face. He tried the combination a second time. No luck. The surprise morphed to irritation. Chance turned the dial a third time, slowly, making sure to align the numbers exactly.

The door refused to yield.

“What the hell?” Chance kicked the safe in frustration. “It won’t open.”

“Problem?” Shelton asked.

“The combination isn’t working,” Chance said. “8-16-24. Try it yourself.”

Shelton knelt before the safe. Three attempts produced the same result.

“The mechanism seems okay.” Shelton scratched his head. “Either the combination was changed, or you’ve got the numbers wrong.”

“I don’t have them wrong,” Chance snapped. “It’s multiples of eight.”

“Then we’re sunk.” Shelton almost sounded relieved.

My mind raced, but couldn’t devise a way into a locked safe. We’d have to try something else.

Hi caught my attention, tipped his head toward the kitchen door.

I took the hint. “Is there anything to drink in this house?”

“Try the refrigerator.” Chance was focused on the safe and didn’t bother to look up. “But I’d check expiration dates if I were you.”

Hi followed me. We huddled and spoke quickly.

“My grandfather had a safe just like that,” Hi said.

“Could you crack it?”

“I know how it works. The locking mechanism consists of three notched discs that hold the bolt in place. The door opens when the correct combination aligns the notches, allowing the bolt to slide free.”

“How is that useful?”

“Just listen! If you rotate the knob three hundred and sixty degrees, you’ll hit the first correct number at some point. When you do, the bolt will tap the notch on the first disc.”

“So?”

“That contact makes a soft click, usually inaudible to human ears.”

“Oh.” I saw where Hi was going.

Hi swept on. “Center the dial back to zero, then work left until you hear a second click. Jog a little farther left, and then repeat to find the last digit. Boom! Three. Done.”

“Will the clicks occur in the correct order?”

“Not necessarily. But when you have all three numbers, you can test different sequences until the right one opens the safe.”

“You’re a genius!” I said excitedly. “Did you bring your shades?”

“Not me. I’d soil myself if I flared in front of Chance.” Hi squeezed both my shoulders. “But you, my dear, have experience with such adventures.”

“Fabulous.”





I REENTERED THE room carrying a glass of water. Hi trailed stiffly behind me.

Ben was standing by the fireplace, while Chance and Shelton knelt on the floor by the safe.

Chance noticed me first. “Nice shades. Trying to keep up with the Kardashians?”

Ben and Shelton tensed. Realizing.

“Headache.” I saw Chance in razor-sharp detail, could make out a single bead of perspiration on his left temple. “I’m very light sensitive.”

“Let’s search the house,” Hi said too loudly. “If someone changed the combination, maybe they wrote it down.”

“And left it lying around?” Chance scoffed. “That’d be incredibly stupid.”

“It’s worth a look.” Shelton hopped to his feet.

“Okay.” Ben was looking at Hi, but his words were directed at me. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do.” Hi over-nodded. “Trust me.”

“You guys are way too serious,” Chance said. “I’ll check the master bedroom.”

“I’ll hang here.” I tried to sound spur-of-the-moment, but I’m the worst actress on earth. “Maybe try my luck with the safe.”

“Don’t waste your time,” Chance said. “That demon isn’t opening without dynamite.”

The boys dispersed, pretending to scour the cabin. I sat cross-legged in front of the safe, honed my ears to block out distractions, and rotated the dial a full circuit.

Not a sound.

On impulse, I chugged my water and placed the rim of the glass against the safe’s door. Pressing an ear against its bottom, I closed my eyes and gave the knob a second go.

This time, I heard a very faint ticking. I nudged the dial, straining to pick up the slightest variation.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Clink.

My eyes darted to the dial. 24. Okay. Score one for Chance.

I reset the wheel to zero. Moving counterclockwise, I repeated the painstaking process.

Tick. Tick.

Clink.

12! Two-thirds of the combination was mine.

I was jogging the dial back to zero when Chance emerged from the hallway.

“Pointless, as I knew—” He halted at the sight of me. “You’re listening through a drinking glass? What are you, nine years old?”

“Give me a minute before you scoff.” Barely breathing, I worked back across the wheel.