The gravekeeper

The ship stopped at 7:48pm exactly on Hallows Island.
Rosella Gonzales climbed off, and was immediately met by a misty fog.
There had only been few people on the S.S. Hallows, and Rosella had been one of the thirty people to arrive.
"Madame Rosella?" A voice called out through the mist. Rosella pulled her large suitcase through the fog, and jumped back as she was met by a cloaked man.
"Who are you!" She whispered in fright. The man removed the hood of the cloak to reveal a sleepless face with bags under his beady grey eyes.
"I'm your transport to the High-mount Inn. We'd better hurry," His voice was croaky.
"Legend has it the ghosts of Deathly Hallows always come out to the new arrivals of Hallows island." When he saw Rosella's shocked face, he began to laugh.
"Of course, there just LEGENDS." He explained, taking Rosella's suitcase and leading her off the sandy shore to a small foggy road. To the side of it, was a horse and buggy.
"Aww, cute!" Rosella stroked the grey mare's soft neck as the cloaked man set her suitcase at the foot of the buggy.
"C'mon in." He said. Rosella climbed in and the man introduced himself properly.
"I'm the inn's keeper. I manage the night shifts. My name. . .is Mr. Lawrence. But you can call me Martin." He smiled, and pulled out a small card.
"What's this?" She took it, examining the card in the dim light.
"It's a business card, you can take it back after you leave."
"Th-thank you." She stuttered.
"We have quite awhile before we reach the inn, tell me a little about yourself." Martin insisted.
"Um, well, I came here because my uncle Kendall died a few days ago, and he left a fortune of $50,000 somewhere on this island. I intend to find it." Rosella smiled a wry smile.
"Sounds interesting. As it may be, I KNEW Kendall. He and I were like brothers. Spent quite a lot of our spare time together. Mr. Sharp was a fishing extraordinaire!" Martin insisted.
"Really? Did he leave any clues to where he hid his treasures?"
"no, none. Except. . ." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old folded up piece of paper.
"He said to give this to the seeker after he was gone. I'm guessing the seeker is you." He gave the paper to Rosella, who read it with care;

For you seeker,
my treasures are hidden, lower than air,
to find and keep, while I die in my chair.

"Weird, since he actually died in his favourite chair!" Martin admitted.
"Hidden, lower than air? This has to be a riddle." Rosella refolded the note and slid it into her jean back pocket.
"Well, maybe the riddler can help you figure it out. He's not open right now, but you can check tomorrow morning."
"Who's the riddler?"
"Oh, he's a former blacksmith. Some say he was fired because he kept confusing the customers." Martin chuckled, but continued.
"Then one day, something horrible happened. He burnt his hands while trying to repair his lover's ring, and he quit his job, dumped his girlfriend, and moved here. Ever since, nobody's ever called him anything but the riddler, because nobody know's nothing about him."
Rosella nodded.
"So how do you know he can help me?"
"Because whenever anyone asks him anything about anything, he gives them a riddle. Ask him how he's feeling today, and he'll say something like, is the sky blue, or the sun hot, or is it you who's feeling this way?" Martin grimaced.
"I asked him that. Never did understand his words."
Rosella thought for a moment.
"I wouldn't know."
"EXACTLY!" Martin nearly made Rosella jump.
"So it's settled. Tomorrow I'll ask for his help."
Martin gave her a stern look.
"Don't be so sure, the riddler charges for his work dearly."
Rosella pulled out a large wad of cash.
"I think I'll manage."
It was at that moment they felt the carriage stop, and Martin climbed out.
"We have arrived Madame Rosella." He said, taking her suitcase before she got out.
They both went to the front desk, and Martin handed Rosella a key to her room.
"Your room is 2B. Just up the stairs, to your left." He pointed to a winding staircase that went through the roof.
Silently, Rosella rolled her case to the stairs, and carried it up the long stairs to the second floor. Her room was right next to another room, but the door was wide open, and was dark.
Rosella was tempted to explore, when a rush of cold air blew out at her, blowing her wavy dirty blonde hair back in her face.
"Why were you staring at my room?" A startled voice sounded behind her.
Rosella jumped and turned around to face an older women in her late forties, with a grim expression, and aging grey hair.
"Nothing, just passing." Rosella said promptly.
"See that you do." The woman cursed and slid past her, and slammed the door shut.
Quickly, she unlocked her door and went in.
It was an older looking room, with flowery wallpaper, and a single bed in the middle of the room. She set down her suitcase and began to unpack, when a knock on the door stopped her.
She went to the door, but when she opened it, she didn't see anyone. But she DID see a package lying on the floor at her feet.
She cast a glance down the halls, but when she didn't see anyone, she grabbed the package, and took it inside.
She put the package down on her bed and slowly unwrapped it. She was surprised to find a silver locket lying in the material. She opened it up, and saw a old photo. It was of her uncle Kendall.
"What's this?" She pulled the fabric from over the rest of the package to reveal another note.

To the seeker,
in a time of crisis, here's what you'll need,
look under the bed, the key will be freed.

Rosella folded up the note and was kneeling in a few milliseconds. She pulled back the bed spreads that covered the underbed, and reached under.
Her hand clasped around a small item, and brought out a small gold key!
"This is getting freaky." Rosella was creeped as she realized one thing.
"How'd they realize the key was under this bed?" She whispered.
"And who gave this to me?"
She knew for sure only one thing.
Things on Hallows Island were not as they appeared. And she was determined to find out why.