Emery followed Mrs. Baker's flighty footsteps in between the tall bookshelves of the Bellenau Library. She tried her best to grasp each and every instruction that her host blabbered out. "These are our history books. On the other side is our science collection. And down this way." Mrs. Baker took quick steps down yet another hall of shelves. She snapped her fingers over her shoulder. "Quickly. Follow me."

Emery turned as they walked, their footsteps echoing in the great expanse of the surprisingly large library. There'd been so much talk of the old one being so huge and awe-worthy, she half expected this one to resemble a shabby bookstore in comparison. She did not expect to find a tall, cement monument with polished mahogany tables and exquisite lamps. The wooden bookshelves themselves were a work of art. There were intricate designs carved into each one.

There was only one problem, their book collection was . . . lacking, to say the least. There were so many empty shelves; she could clearly see the entrance from where she stood.

"Emery? Where'd you go?" Mrs. Baker peeked her head back to where Emery was standing. "Taking it all in, I'm guessing?"

Emery nodded, reaching for a nearby book and noticing its edition was of a recent year. "How long has it been since the reconstruction?"

Mrs. Baker walked toward her, with her hands grasped together over her belly. "We opened up about ten years ago. Give or take."

Emery flinched. Ten years? You'd think they'd have gathered more books by now.

The old woman slumped her shoulders, letting out a disappointed huff of air. "I know. There's not much. This place used to be filled to the tippy-top with every book you could think of, but that fire ruined everything. After the reconstruction, we were broke and fresh out of donations. Money doesn't come by easy. A town famous for its random fires isn't so attractive to benefactors."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then. Let's solve this mystery and get some benefactors," Emery beamed, but her optimism was received with a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile.

"You do your best."

Emery wrinkled her brow. She supposed Mrs. Baker knew nothing about her training in case research. As an excellent future cop, she'd crack this mysterious fire case in no time.

"But that does remind me. I have to show you where the records are." Mrs. Baker grabbed Emery's wrist and led her to the northwest corner of the library where there were four tall file cabinets labeled by year. "It's mostly old town newspapers and reports, but I hope it's enough."

Emery walked toward the drawer labeled the year of the fire and pulled it open. Her mouth twisted into a sour frown when her eyes met a half-empty drawer.

"I hope it is, too," Emery said, closing the drawer once more. She turned around when a singular, unimpressive wooden door caught her attention. "And what's in here? Another bathroom?"

"That's the door to the basement. The real valuables are locked down there until further notice."

An unexplainable urge to head down to that cellar overtook her, like an itch she had to scratch. Her eyes were drawn to its flimsy silver handle. It acted as a strong magnet, drawing in her steps. Her fingers wiggled in anticipation to throw the door open and see whatever was inside. "Are my grandfather's antiques down there?"

"I suppose."

"So . . ." She waited to see if Mrs. Baker caught on, but the woman gave her a blank look. "Can I go in?"

Mrs. Baker winced. "That'll be a toughie. The only person with a key is Melinda Simmons, and she gave me strict instructions that no one was to enter."

"Melinda Simmons?"

"The library's founder and our supervisor," Mrs. Baker explained, pulling her away from the door after she stared too long at it. "She's not in town often, but if you stay long enough you might meet her and ask her to go in."

Emery cast the door one last glance. It had a round doorknob with a very basic lock. She could easily get in if she wanted to. There was a lockpick in her bag at all times.

She shook her head, realizing what she was thinking. Breaking into the cellar was not what a policewoman would do. She'd just have to wait for this Melinda Simmons to come around, whenever that was.

"Ugh, not again!" Someone let out a loud groan. Emery wove her way through the shelves to see Seth sitting at a table, looking like he wanted to strangle his laptop to death. His curly head of hair sunk into his hands.

"Everything okay?" she asked, slipping into the seat across from him.

He lifted his head to meet Emery's gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It's the crappy signal. I've tried uploading my assignment five times now, and it won't work."

Mrs. Baker walked by, setting some books on the table. "Oh, you'll keep having trouble with that. The only place with any reliable internet is the school."

Seth let out a disgruntled sigh, the tip of his ears getting red from frustration. "How far is this school?"

"Lucky for you, everything in Bellenau is well within walking distance. Come, I'll show you where it is. I'm passing by there before I catch the 10 o'clock mass."

"That'd be great!" Seth jumped up from his seat to gather his papers, books, and laptop in an awful rush. "You going to be okay by yourself here, Em?"

"I'll be fine," Emery put him at ease, walking to the tall brown reception desk. "I have plenty to keep me busy until you're back. Lots of research to do."

Seth followed her to land a soft kiss on her brow. "I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

"Hurry along, Seth," Mrs. Baker yelled. She'd already gone past the entrance and was tramping down the steps to the street. "Remember your responsibilities, Emery! Take care of my books!"

"I will," she yelled back, but she doubted the old woman heard her. She'd already power-walked away from hearing range.

Seth ran out the door, probably fearing he'd lose sight of the woman. "Mrs. Baker, slow down! How are you this fast?"

Once they were gone, Emery turned her head in the direction of the town files. She supposed it was no use waiting around; she had to get started. She walked to the cabinets, opened the oldest drawer, and snatched away all its contents. With the papers in her hands, she felt a surge of determination re-energize her whole body.

Everything had cause. Everything had a reason to be. The fires were no exception.

Maybe she'd find something about that weird symbol on the way.

A newspaper titled 'The Bellenau Journal' seemed to be the only document in the stack of papers. They were thin booklets with no more than ten pages, and most of the contents were crossword puzzles and some short articles on how to grow crops, yard work, and house improvement.

Her hands reached for the last one: an edition dated just a few weeks after the library fire. "Bellenau Rises from the Ashes" was written in big bold letters over the first page. Her fingers hesitantly grabbed onto the page corner. She took a single breath, summoning up the courage to read about her grandmother's death. The yellowish paper crackled when she turned it. It looked like they hadn't been opened for a long time.

Page after page after page of condolences and farewell messages toward the victims. It weighed down her chest to see so many people feeling their loss. There were so many letters; it seemed like the whole town must've written something.

"Hold on." She turned the pages back and began reading who the messages were directed toward. "One, two, three . . ." she counted each time she saw a different name until she reached the last page of the paper. "Seven."

They only mentioned seven people in the messages, but there were ten victims. Who were the other three?

Emery searched for the next issue, which seemed much more promising. It held the official police statements. Her eyes rolled over page after page of text. When she was done with that edition, she picked up another one. She repeated the process again and again until she'd gone through the whole foot-tall stack of papers.

She shut the last edition closed, sank back on her rolling chair, then slowly turned around in circles. "No evident cause of the fire. No gas leak. No suspected arson. No witnesses. No survivors," she counted the facts off on her fingers and failed to come up with an idea of what had happened.

The three extra victims in the fire were unidentified, which was strange. Bellenau was small, it was hard to think nobody recognized them. Even if they were just passing by the town as tourists, someone had to have seen them, but again there was nothing. There wasn't a shred of useful evidence anywhere, and she doubted she'd find anything in drawers from later years.

A few hours in and she'd already hit a brick wall.

Thunk!

A hollow noise startled Emery to her feet. She set the newspaper down on the desk and stepped away from it. "Hello?" she called, but received no response. Only the faintest giggle reached her ears. Emery jerked her bag up from the floor and reached for the taser in the front pocket. Her figure crouched and stretched to get a view through the gaping holes in the shelves, until there—between the science and theology section, Emery caught a glimpse of a white dress.

She picked up her pace, placing the taser in her back pocket. "Hey, I saw you." The person's footsteps began to echo throughout the building as they started to run. "Hey!"

Emery followed the sound, beginning to run as well. They were heading to the back of the library, toward the locked room. She ran so fast the books turned into a blur of color, but even then, by the time she reached the end of the narrow path, she only saw the door closing. "Melinda?" She tried calling out to them again, "Melinda Simmons!"

By the time, she reached the door, its lock had clicked into place. No matter how much she turned it and pulled, it seemed it was locked once more. Emery banged her fist against the door. "Will you please open!"

"Emery, what are you doing?" Mrs. Baker's voice made her turn around, her face flooding with heat. "Shame on you, I told you that room is off-limits."

"No, you don't understand. There was—"

"Hush. I won't hold your curiosity against you. Now, follow me, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

With no chance for explanations, Mrs. Baker disappeared behind a bookshelf, her snapping fingers and rushed steps reminding her to hurry. Emery looked at the locked door over her shoulder, her brow tight and mouth pursed. She was sure someone had gone in. Why wouldn't they answer? Why would they run?

Nevertheless, Emery walked away and headed toward the desk, where she could hear Mrs. Baker explaining how Emery was conducting thorough research on the Bellenau fires. "Ah, there she is." Mrs. Baker stood in front of a tall woman with long flaxen hair, covered head to toe in an unflattering beige uniform. "This is Sheriff Lila. She's been keeping our town safe for over twenty years."

The woman turned with a look over her shoulder. Her icy blue eyes bored into Emery with the first flash of nostalgia since she'd stepped foot in this town. Her stoic face, her thick eyebrows, they were all familiar. But, Emery was sure she'd never met this woman before. "Emery, is it?" the woman asked, extending a hand toward her.

"Hello." Emery hesitated to take her hand.

Mrs. Baker began tidying up the desk, holding up newspapers below her glasses before stacking them in the correct order. "I figured Lila could help you with some of your research. Hope you don't mind I called her about it."

The woman nodded. "I hear you've been asking questions about the library fire."

"Oh, uh— Yes!" Emery realized she'd been staring. "But there's really not much to go on from old newspapers. I'm more confused than when I started. Like, those three unidentified bodies. No one ever came looking for them?"

The sheriff looked out the open door. "Never. They remain buried without a name."

Crud. Emery furrowed her brow. This was all too strange for her liking. "Well, maybe I could look at the case files? Are they in your station?" An actual police report would be much more useful than the old newspapers.

"I can't promise they'll be of much use, but I could bring them around." Lila smiled at Emery, striking her with another flash of nostalgia. "I'll bring them by as soon as possible."

"Thanks." Emery could no longer resist asking, "I'm sorry. Have we met before?"

Something like surprise flashed through the woman's eyes, before settling back down into their boring state. "It's a small town. You've probably seen me around."

"Right." Emery felt sure she hadn't, but she didn't discard the possibility. After what happened at Dr. Lloyd's it was harder to trust her memory.

"If that's all, I'll get going. Nice to meet you." She turned toward the exit.

"Wait," Emery snapped back to attention, "could you also pull up the files on the fire in Joey and Emma's Treasure Trove?"

Lila came to a dry halt and, without turning around, asked, "What for? That was an open and shut case."

"Don't know yet, but if it's too much to ask, then—"

"It's fine. I'll bring both," Lila replied and continued to make her exit.

"One more thing!" Emery held up her index finger and rummaged through her bag with her free hand. The sheriff sighed and circled back, crossing her arms and frowning. Emery pulled out her phone and tapped away before showing them the picture of the mysterious symbol. "Do either of you recognize this?"

Mrs. Baker got close—uncomfortably close—to the phone and squinted her eyes. "Never seen it before in my life. Lila?"

The sheriff looked at the screen for barely a second, before shifting her gaze to Emery. "Beats me. Now, you'll excuse me. I have to get back to work." Lila walked off without another word.

Slumped shoulders and disappointed sighs seemed to be the popular theme in Emery's day. She sank back to her seat and ran a hand down her face. Mrs. Baker tapped the stack of newspapers against the desk until they shuffled into place. "I'm guessing you've already gone through these?"

"All of them," Emery said, her hair riding up on the back of the chair as she slid further down on her seat. "Couldn't find a thing."

"It's a good thing Sheriff Lila offered her help, isn't it? Just make sure you don't go looking through the police cases while working. People will talk."

No one had stopped by all day; so, that was unlikely, but she didn't want to disrespect her host's wishes. "Maybe I could look at them after hours?"

Mrs. Baker pinched her lips, thinking it over for a few seconds. "I suppose so, but you have to make sure you lock up and throw away any trash before you leave."

"Will do." Emery nodded, dragging the block of papers into her arms to put it away. "Thanks, Mrs. Baker."

Emery briskly made her way back to the cabinets and put the papers in their place. It was inevitable to once again stare at the door to the basement. She stepped close and pressed her ear against the wood. Despite her being sure someone was down there, there wasn't a single sound inside.

Later, when asking Mrs. Baker about it, the old woman assured her no one could've possibly gone in. Only Melinda Simmons, and she was most certainly away on business. So, Emery resumed other tasks, but stayed vigilant on the door all afternoon, keeping an ear perked for the click of the doorknob. She walked by it at least eleven times. The door remained locked, and as they closed for the day, the library seemed entirely empty.

But Emery knew better. There was something in that basement.