Page 23 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
Rebecca continued, carefully measuring her words. “You’re right, Norah. You don’t advertise the place as a haunted-houseattraction like at Halloween. You do, however, have a page on your website devoted entirely to the story of Isabelle Addington, as well as guest testimonies that they’ve seen and/or interacted with her spirit. It’s set up as a draw to bring in future clients.”
“I do?” Norah frowned.
“Haven’t you looked at your site?” Rebecca sounded surprised.
Norah looked to Otto, trying to draw strength from his sympathetic eyes. “Yes ... I mean, sort of, but when I inherited this place from Aunt Eleanor last year, along with the website, I just assumed you’d looked over everything connected with the business.” Wasn’t that what attorneys were for? She didn’t want to add that she’d made it a habit to avoid the internet—including her own website. It was all too overwhelming. Apparently, she was a pathetic excuse for a business owner.
Rebecca was silent for a moment, and then Norah heard her carefully controlled intake of breath. “Norah, I’m just cautioning you that we should be ready. There are loopholes should this become a lawsuit, though I can’t imagine any lawyer in their right mind would take on a case like this. But your websitedoesclaim the house is haunted, and youdohave an ancient graveyard at the back of your lot that adds to the allure. Add that together, and without a waiver releasing you from any responsibility, they could make it their contention that the ghost itself is a fabrication made to entertain and scare your guests. In this scenario, that fabrication took things too far and the apparition or actor—take your pick—again, literally scared Mr. Miller to death by way of a heart attack.”
Norah’s mind was spinning now. This was all based on possibilities and wild theories. “Can’t we just talk to Mrs. Miller and work something out, avoid a lawsuit?”
“Her husband just died—she’s upset, grieving.” Rebecca’s voice was grave. “Which means what you propose isn’t likely to happen. Not to mention, if shehasn’tthought of pursuing any of this, then we don’t want to inadvertently provide her with the idea.”
Norah didn’t care for Rebecca’s cut-and-dried way of dealing with the issue. “Well, maybe we can...” Her words trailed as Sebastian sat down across from her at the table. With Otto and Sebastian there, Norah should have felt reassured, like everything was going to be all right. Instead, a feeling of claustrophobia was spiraling toward severe anxiety. She didn’t have the money to lay out to protect herself against the implausible what-ifs of a grieving widow’s claim, one that threatened to put Norah out of business.
Rebecca, unaware of how Norah was churning inside, wasn’t finished yet. “So here’s what we do. Let’s prepare a response so that, in the event this does go south, we’re not caught with our proverbial pants down.”
“What should our response be?” Norah put the phone on speaker and set it on the table. There was no use hiding anything now. Sebastian had been there the moment Mr. Miller died, and Otto was just—well, Norah needed him.
“There are some basic things we can say and do. I can run through those with you, but first we need to get our story straight about Isabelle Addington and any influence she has had or still has on your property.”
“She’s dead.” Norah’s blanket statement made Sebastian’s eyebrows shoot upward.
“Yes, but if she haunts—”
“She’sdead, Rebecca. She’s not roaming the halls in the night or—” Norah stopped. Could she honestly say that? Hadn’t she just last night searched the darkness for Isabelle’s ghost, wishing to see her spirit but hoping it was Naomi’s instead?
“Okay. Here’s what we need. Compile what you know about Isabelle Addington’s murder back in, what, 1901? And look into the property records of the place. See if there’s any other history anyone could dig up and say influences thehauntingatmosphere. Have you used the old cemetery to attract guests? Tours of it?”
“There are only seventeen graves there. Hardly worth charging people for tours.” Norah was irritated by the thought. She had no intention of bringing curiosity seekers to Naomi’s peaceful place of rest.
“Good. So, you’re not collecting money for haunted tours?”
“Of course not.” She glared at the phone.
Rebecca was unfazed on the other end. “I’m not saying we need to panic, but just be prepared. I realize Mr. Miller died of natural causes, but your property has already been linked to Isabelle Addington and...” Rebecca broke off, hesitating.
Norah could feel the blood drain from her face.
Otto moaned quietly.
Sebastian Blaine had the decency to wince.
Rebecca cleared her throat. Her voice gentled. “Norah, you run a business out of the only house in Shepherd ever to be associated with murder. And the fact that you and your sister werelivingin the house with your aunt when Naomi went missing ... well, it ups the sensational factor. Someone looking to take advantage of your property’s history associated with the only two killings in Sheperd—to make some connection to Mr. Miller’s heart attack—well, it could get ugly, not to mention expensive, even if it’s not something I see as a legitimate threat. You’re also the only family in town who’s had a family member murdered. That isn’t something we can just ignore. Coincidental? Maybe. Something a bunch of overambitious lawyers think they can build a lawsuit on for a poor elderly widow whose husband was frightened to death? I doubt it, but there’s always the media, and now you have a popular true-crime podcaster as your guest!”
Norah shot a glance at Sebastian, who kept his eyes focused on the phone in the middle of the table. He didn’t seem all that perturbed, and Rebecca had no idea that he was listening in on the conversation.
Norah exchanged looks with Otto, whose eyes expressedconcern. “I don’t think Sebastian intends to cover Naomi’s story—just the historical one.”
Rebecca gave a small laugh over the phone. “Okay. But let’s be prepared anyway. For now, and for anything in the future that could come up.”
Norah didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She stared at the phone until Rebecca issued a hesitant farewell with a promise to touch base in a day or two.
“I can’t do this,” Norah whimpered into her palms.
Otto mumbled a crotchety oath under his breath. “I always said humanity is devolving instead of getting smarter.”
“There isn’t any action or claims yet, and there’s no press to speak of.” Sebastian’s words made Norah feel a tiny bit better. But then considering who’d said them...
