"Remind me why you need my help." Breece breathed out to Oliver as they crouched behind the large, dark desk in Travis' office.

"Shhhhhh....." Oliver sent a sneaky smile at Breece before shoving his hand under the desk and moving it around in search of something.

"Do you even know where It is!" Breece hissed.

"Of course, and I brought you along merrily because my uncle would let me off easier for snooping around in his study if your here when we are caught." Oliver continued with whatever he was doing while Breece stared at Oliver wide-eyed.

It's not that Breece was scared of Travis, it was that Breece was simply scared of getting caught looking through his study to steal something.

"Aha!" Olive grunted, and for some reason there was the sound of Velcro being ripped apart and Olivers hand appeared again with a leather bound book.

"Classic old secret compartments." He mumbled opening the book and quickly flipped through the pages.
On the pages near the back were dark-maroon-ish smudges on many of the pages.
If Oliver noticed that or not, Breece didn't know because he kept his mouth shut.

Such a simple book it had been, Breece realised, but now, with the information messily scribbled in the pages, it could be something of great worth. If it did hold the way to the graveyard, to what lengths would people go to find out when they, as will as everybody else in this world, die.

Oliver, still crouched, turned and looked at him and turned his lips up into a grin, "This is it."

Breece rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

Oliver was about to reply but steady steps were heard against the hallway carpet outside the office door.
Breece started panicking, he couldn't get caught stealing, it would soil his good reputation as well as his fathers and his family's.

Oliver cursed under his breath and removed a similar though less worn book to replace the journal and quickly slipped it to the place under the desk in which the real one was found.
Breece turned to scurry around the desk while Oliver, clearly panicked, shoved the journal down the back of Breece's trousers.

Oliver casually leaned back in his uncles chair and Breece, sending him a glare, waddled around the desk and tried to look innocent and bored while picking at his nails.

"Don't turn around." Oliver whispered, clearly referring to the box-shape in the back of Breece's pants, before the door opened, revealing a shocked uncle Travis.
...--.-.-.-.-.-
Shoutout to @Nice_try_shy_guy for being one of my first two readers. Thanks for the comment as well.