Page 48 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
Sebastian tipped his chin up. “They’re in my room.”
“Go get them.” Norah’s instruction came out as a choked whisper.
“Norah, I—”
“Get them before I change my mind.”
She felt the eyes of the dead watching her as she chewed the skin near her fingernails. One cuticle was already raw and bleeding. Her anxiety was building. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Harper plugged her laptop into a wall outlet. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun. She wore her typical oversized hoodie. Norah wondered if Harper intended to wear the hoodie for as long as she could until it became impossible to hide her secret from her father.
Sebastian had several manila folders. Norah could see theedges of photographs sticking out from one. She sank onto a chair.
Harper glanced up. “You okay?”
Norah nodded, gnawing at her finger.
Sebastian eyed her. “Do you want to look through Isabelle’s case first? There’s not much there, but it’s somethin’ to go on.”
Norah debated for a quick moment, then shook her head. “No. Let’s get it over with.”
“Naomi’s?” Harper verified.
Norah nodded.
Sebastian wasted no time. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was afraid she’d change her mind, or if he wanted to get to it like someone yanking off a Band-Aid.
“There’s nothing in there I haven’t already seen at some point.” Norah voiced her thoughts more to reassure herself than Sebastian or Harper.
“It’s just copies of the reports. A summary of what happened. Suspect list. A few photographs.” Harper began thumbing through the pages.
“I don’t want to see her.” Norah’s eyes burned, and she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling.
“There are no photos of the body in here,” Sebastian said. Whether the police didn’t release them or whether he’d pulled them for her sake, Norah didn’t know, and she didn’t ask.
She lowered her head, eyeing the pages.
Harper closed one of the folders. “Before we look at these, why don’t you tell us what you know—what you remember?” Her voice was soft and reassuring.
Norah nodded. It made sense. Why taint her memories with police reports? Her own testimony might help. Suddenly doubt wrapped its arms around her, tighter than she had wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She looked between father and daughter. “I mean, how necessary is it? Her case has nothing do with Isabelle Addington’s and whathappened here in 1901. Mrs. Miller hasn’t filed a lawsuit against me for Isabelle’s ghost and Mr. Miller’s death. Naomi’s murder has nothing to do with your podcast, and...” Norah was rambling, the words spilling out faster and faster. She couldn’t sift through her emotions, her thoughts. The entire situation was—
“Norah.” Sebastian lowered himself into a crouch in front of where she sat. His calming voice urged her to meet his eyes. “Here’s what we know. Two murders in Shepherd, both with ties to this place. Both with the name of Anderson somehow tied to the victims. An’ now you had a guest pass away here an’ people sayin’ they saw Isabelle’s ghost—who you think you saw a few nights ago. An’ then your sister’s library card showin’ up out of nowhere. That’s why, Norah. There’s too much in and out and all around with these cases. You’re not able to sleep. I can see it in your eyes. You’re wastin’ away, an’ it’s not healthy.”
Harper came around on the other side and crouched beside her dad. “It’s okay to be afraid, Norah.” She gave her dad a sideways glance and then caught Norah’s gaze. “I’m afraid sometimes.”
Norah knew Harper wasn’t trying to compare or compete with their different types of fear. One could argue fear of an unsolved murder outweighed fear of telling a parent you were pregnant. But then could one? Norah was well aware this was why a person didn’t compete over whose trouble was worse. They were all trials. All of them encased in the sort of fear that couldn’t just be washed away. There was no resolving her sister’s death, even if the case were solved. There was no resolving a massive life change like an unplanned baby, even if it would be welcomed with open arms.
“My sister left for work in the morning,” Norah started before she could convince herself not to.
Harper adjusted so she sat cross-legged on the floor. Sebastian eased up and onto a chair, but Norah noticed he kept his fingertips on her knee to reassure her.
“It was a normal day. Naomi just ... didn’t come home. She didn’t respond to my texts. That wasn’t unusual while she was at work—she worked at a pharmacy as an assistant. But Naomi always responded when she got off work after the pharmacy closed at ten.”
“So it was nighttime when she got off work,” Harper noted.
“Yes.” Norah kept her eyes on Sebastian’s hand as it lay gently on her knee. There was something profoundly comforting in the gesture. “When we didn’t hear from her by midnight, Dad went out looking for her. That was when he found her car still in the pharmacy’s parking lot. The doors were unlocked. The keys were in the ignition.”
Norah swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. “Dad called the police immediately. They came and collected the info needed to file a report. By the afternoon of the next day, everyone seemed to be searching for Naomi. Aunt Eleanor, Otto, Ralph, Mom, me, people from church and in town. The cops. But she had simply disappeared.”
