The entrance to the canal tunnel looked incredibly small—almost like a mouse hole in some old cartoon. But this was real—a little mouse hole in the side of the landscape. It felt rather unassuming—the canal just ran up to it and disappeared inside. As though it swallowed the canal. Boats were moored by the tunnel entrance—blue and white narrow boats with plastic seating. Tour boats.

Next to the tunnel stood a building that looked like a large holiday cottage. The Standedge Visitor Centre with an empty parking lot in front of it. The path from the bridge went down to the Centre and closer to the tunnel and Robin found his step hurrying.

He wanted to see closer.

The hole—gated up and chained, as though a prison for some horrific monster—grew larger with every step. Amber had said the children were afraid of it, and he could understand why. Staring into it, into the darkness inside, felt like staring into a void.

He came to the center but couldn’t take his eyes from the tunnel. The wind was whipping through it, and somehow it was creating a whistling sound. Almost as if it were talking to him.

He thought of the game Amber talked about. Where you had to stand beside the tunnel and see how long you lasted. Would he have been able to do that as a child? Could he even do that now?

He chuckled to himself. No use getting spooked. It was just a tunnel, after all. But he had to find out what Matthew’s interest in it was. And why it brought the group close together. Did something happen on that trip?

Robin turned and started back toward The Hamlet. It was definitely creepy, and the ghost stories were warranted. But now Standedge was the location of a very real crime.

When he was crossing the bridge, he looked back at the tunnel. People don’t just disappear, Robin thought again. And nodded to himself.

The tunnel whistled as if in agreement.

Chapter Ten

The girl watched Robin Ferringham cross the bridge and hurry back to The Hamlet. She hadn’t exactly been hiding, having followed him across most of the town. She hid behind a tree when he turned back. It was a simple act of stealth—he wasn’t exactly a secret agent or some such. But then, neither was she. He didn’t notice her at all. Simple.

She had to see if he was here for what she suspected. And lo and behold, he led her to Standedge. She didn’t like being right all the time.

She got her phone out. Took a couple of snaps. She didn’t really know what for. He was just standing there, like he was waiting for something to happen. She looked at them. If he was here for Standedge, what did that mean? She wasn’t sure yet.