The surveying crew from West County Surveying and Engineering had been on site for close to ten hours that day. Mayor Westchester was eager to get this transaction done and had authorized overtime as part of the surveying bid. The land moving crews could not begin until an ALTA survey was complete, which would show every feature and elevation on the homestead property. They had completed most of it, but would be coming back the next day to set some elevation stakes.

Frank Crandle and Grant Frazier had come back to the site to look things over. They both had concerns with the well they had found under the house and wanted to see what was down there before the bulldozers and backhoes arrived. They had placed a piece of plywood across the hole with lath and flagging as warnings to stay off. The survey crew had moved the plywood to get their shots of the top of the well, but said they would determine depth when they came back.

"We've got about two hours of sunlight left," Grant said.

"Somehow I don't think sunlight is going to help us much. It is going to be dark down there no matter what," Frank said. "We will just have to use headlamps."

"Okay," Grant said. "Also, I'm going to throw it out there that this whole thing creeps me out."

"I'm with you, but I'm more afraid of Jack Westchester causing trouble for us."

"Good point. I guess we better get busy. Maybe there is nothing down there and this will be over in a matter of minutes."

"I hope so," Frank said, opening one of the doors on the utility bed of his truck. He took out a work belt and headlamp. Grant did the same and nodded when he was ready.

They did not talk as they walked across the now vacant lot where the Westchester home had stood. The orange flagging flapped gently in the breeze, but Frank and Grant thought it felt like a gale force wind holding them back. They pulled the lath from the ground and tossed it to the side when they reached their destination. The plywood went next and then they stared down into the darkness.

They both held their breath, afraid that the smell they had encountered before would be there again. This time, there was nothing and they exhaled simultaneously. Grant picked up a small stone and dropped it into the well. Not quite two seconds later, there was a brief splash that echoed up the well.

"Not gonna lie," Frank said. "I was hoping it would be dry. Grab a roll of string and a weight. We are going to check the depth ourself. I want to know at least how far down it is to the water."

Grant nodded and walked back to his truck, where he got the supplies he needed. A one hundred foot roll of line normally used for making level lines and a pair of rusty pliers he had found at a previous job. He tied the line on tightly and went back to the well.

"I think this will work," he said. "The pliers should be heavy enough to find the depth of the water, too."

"Great," Frank said, pulling a marker and a tape measure from his belt. "Let's mark it in three foot increments."

Dozens of cars went by on Westchester Road, but few of the people in them even noticed the two men on their hands and knees where the old house had been. The ones that noticed, didn't care.

A few minutes later, they heard a bloop as the pliers broke the surface of the water. Frank grabbed his tape measure to check how far past the last mark they were. A quick computation later told him it was a lot deeper than he had thought.

"Seventeen feet, three inches," he said.

"I can barely see the ripples on the water," Grant replied, looking down into the well.

"Is it just water or can you see something else?"

"Just water, but it looks like a couple of roots have worked their way through the bricks about ten feet down."

"That's fine," Frank said. "I'm not worried about roots."

"Should we check the depth of the whole well?"

"Might as well. Let me know when you feel it go slack."

The line slipped further into the well. Frank frowned as he had hoped it would only be a couple inches of water. Finally, the pliers came to rest on the bottom of the well.

"Let's see," Frank said, pulling out his tape again. "The water is almost four feet deep. That is not what I wanted to see."

"It didn't feel like there was anything else down there," Grant said. "I'm sure we are fine."

"I hope so, but it is a lot easier to hide something in four feet of water than a few inches."

Grant started pulling the line back up and felt it catch, stopping his progress after only a few inches. Frank saw the progress stop and looked down into the well. Their combined light allowed them to see the top of water clearly, but there was only the slightest disturbance from when the pliers had stopped.

"Give it a pull and see if it comes loose," Frank said. Grant did just that and the pliers moved about two inches before pulling back down.

"I think it is caught on something that has some give to it, probably another root."

"Give another good pull and see if it comes loose."

"Maybe it is a treasure chest," Grant said with a grin.

"I'll take that bet," Frank said, still looking in the well.

Grant started to pull again and applied a little extra pressure, but he did not want to break the line. A half second before he was going to stop, the resistance stopped and the line lurched up. The stress on the line was relieved, but Grant was not.

"What is it?" Frank asked, studying the surface of the water.

"I don't know, but it felt like something broke loose. I have a really bad feeling about this. Maybe we should just say there is nothing down there and let them fill it with dirt."

"We can't do that. The survey crew will be back tomorrow and mayor gave specific instructions to make sure this well isn't a problem."

Grant nodded with a frown and started pulling the line in. His hands were shaking with each slight pull. He could tell there was more weight on the line than when he had dropped it into the well. The feeling of wanting to be sick was getting the best of him as he watched one of the measurement lines move toward him. The pliers would be out of the water soon, along with whatever he had caught.

"There," Frank said, pointing into the well.

The handle of the pliers that the line was tied to came out of the water and Grant paused. He was not sure he wanted to know what was the other side. Frank decided for him when he took hold of the line and gave a slow pull. The pliers emerged from the water with their discovery and both men studied it, trying to see what they had found.

"Definitely not a root," Frank said, shaking it head.

"No. I think it looks like... like a..."

"Yeah. It looks like a skull."

Frank was still holding the line when Grant let it go. He ran from the well and doubled over a few feet before he got to Ballpark Drive. He heaved up his dinner and then collapsed backward onto the grass. Grant was gasping for breath as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Frank had watched him run away, but did not move. Instead, he started pulling the skull up. He was hoping that it was an illusion and that there could not possibly be a skeleton at the bottom of the well. That would certainly set the mayor's progress back.

Five minutes later, Frank dialed the mayor's cell number while staring at the perfectly intact skull on the grass a few feet in front of him. It was a horrendous sight and it was far beyond his contract with the mayor.

"Frank? How are you doing this fine Monday evening?"

"I've been better, but I think you need to come to the building site."

"The survey crew should almost be done. Is something wrong?"

"Definitely," Frank said flatly. "The well we found under the house wasn't empty."

"What is it, Frank?" Jack said, the sound of concern and fear heavy in his voice.

"I... think you should come have a look for yourself."

"I'll be there in four minutes," the mayor said.