Page 51 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
“Euphemia!” Her mother’s stern voice broke into her accusations. “Stop this right now! You’re exhausted. This has all beentoo much for you. Please, go and rest. I’ll watch Polly. Nurse Carlisle is only trying to help.”
“No!” Effie leveled a look on her mother. “Mother, she’s silencing my sister!”
“I’m not...” Nurse Carlisle shook her head, weeping softly.
Katherine James moved to Polly’s bedside. She caressed her ailing daughter’s forehead and then looked to Effie.
Effie stared back at her mother. She must convince her mother what she knew deep in her gut. Nurse Carlisle was evil. Whoever had committed the crime at 322 Predicament Avenue had brought their malice to the James manor.
“Go, Euphemia,” Katherine commanded. “You are not in your right mind—not since that evening. Not since your dalliances with that ... thatman.”
“Mother, I—”
“I said go!”
Effie ran from the room, but not to flee from her mother. She ran to find someone who would believe her and help her to spare Polly these agonizing last days of her life.
Anderson.
Effie heard the footsteps on the sidewalk behind her before she turned. Oh my. She had not expected Patrick Charlemagne, let alone to be greeted with such warm friendliness. She continued her brisk hike in the direction of Anderson’s small house.
“Hello, Mr. Charlemagne.” Not too many weeks ago, she would have been beside herself with elation that he had singled her out to greet her. Now she wasn’t of the mind to care in the slightest.
“I was on my way from Miss Bethany’s home. We had a lovely picnic lunch.”
Of course. Sweet Bethany. In her urgency, Effie was grateful that Bethany’s life was continuing in the direction of the dreams they had shared as girls.
“Are you headed home? Would you like an escort?” Patrick offered.
Effie shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Patrick tipped his hat. “Very well. Have a lovely day, Miss James.”
Effie managed a polite smile but focused her attention on the walk before her. Patrick hesitated, and Effie noticed, slowing to question him with a look.
“Did you intend to walk past Predicament Avenue?” His question startled Effie. She hadn’t realized in her hurry that her walk would take her past Predicament Avenue before she reached Anderson’s house.
“I only ask because—” Patrick cleared his throat—“I know there have been dangers, for you and your family. I’m not certain you should be going there alone.”
“You’re probably right.” Effie stopped to consider. It wouldn’t be wise to put herself in jeopardy in an attempt to save Polly from it.
Patrick pointed. “The avenue is just up ahead. May I at least walk you beyond it until we’re closer to your destination?”
“Of course.” Effie acquiesced and followed Patrick’s lead. Soon they approached Predicament Avenue, and Patrick pointed toward the house. Some people had strayed onto the porch. Effie recognized them and bit back a sigh. Folks were still touring the scene of the crime as if it were some sort of curiosity or sport.
“Did you know that Mrs. Branson came forward and stated she’d seen a woman at the house the day before you and your sister reported hearing the scuffle?”
Effie drew back in surprise. “No. No, I hadn’t heard.”
Patrick nodded. “She was quite insistent about it too. Said the woman was young with reddish-brown hair, dressed more decent than she would have expected a woman traveling alone to dress—that is, for someone drifting through an abandoned house looking for shelter.”
Effie’s breath caught. If it had been Isabelle, that would make sense. Mr. Anderson wore fine tailored clothing. He didn’t seem to be lacking finances, so it would stand to reason there were still remnants of that in Isabelle’s dress as well.
Her hand shot out to grasp Patrick’s arm. “Where does Mrs. Branson live?”
“Just over the way.” Patrick tipped his head to the side. “Why?”
“Will you take me there? I would like to speak with her.”
