Page 62 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
Norah wrapped her arms around herself like a shield. “You have a life?” She stared at him. Every part of her had to refrain from spilling Harper’s secret. Sebastian’slifewasn’t going to be his much longer if he had any fatherly responsibility left in him. He was so keen on her splaying out her past and moving forward and trying to heal, but did he? He stayed behind his casual façade, his easygoing lifestyle, and he included Harper in everything but in his deepest self. She’d not seen Sebastian show his daughter any affection.
“Your life stopped being yours when you had Harper.” Norah let the words slip out as they stood by the car, one on each side, staring each other down.
Sebastian’s look was one of confusion. “What does that have to do with anythin’?”
Norah deflected her anger on to him. “You’re so keen on your podcast. So quick to come to my aid even. But what about your daughter?”
“What about her?”
“When are you going to be her father? Really her father?”
“That’s got nothin’ to do with LeRoy Anderson and your sister’s cold case. I shared my past with you ’cause I wanted to be your friend, not have you throw my own daughter in my face. I have an ex who can do that, thank you very much.” Sebastian got into the car and slammed the door. He waited, leaned forward, and looked out the window at her. “You comin’ or do you want me to leave you in LeRoy’s front yard?”
Norah bit her tongue and climbed into the car. She wanted to cry. She wanted to rant and kick. Life wasn’t fair. Not for any of them. Andthatwas what hurt the most.
21
EFFIE
May 1901
Shepherd, Iowa
EFFIECURLEDUPon the window seat, her back pressed comfortably against a pillow. Polly was still asleep, her mother was furious, her father indignant, and Nurse Carlisle avoided Effie as if she were a monster.
She allowed her tears to trail down her face. How could she assist in the urgency and desperation to help Anderson find his child and yet never leave Polly’s side, making sure she was safe? In times past, she would have reveled in being here. In this nostalgic position, soaking in the memories and wishing they would never end.
She pressed her forehead against the window, staring emptily into the flowers and trees at the edge of the lawn. Life would never be the same again. This room would always be marred by the last days of Polly’s life, shrouded in violence and suspicion.In a moment like this, she could almost pretend things were normal. Polly was merely taking a nap, not slowly dying.
She stiffened. Movement near the bushes captured Effie’s attention. It was midafternoon—no reason to be concerned about another intruder. But there also was no reason for anyone to be trespassing in their yard. The man did nothing to disguise himself either. He bent and picked up a leaf, then let it float back to the ground. His hat hid his face. He wore blue trousers and a buttoned-up shirt, but no jacket, no tie, no cuff links or jewelry of any sort that Effie could see.
The man ducked behind a tree, and Effie straightened. Alert. She glanced over at Polly. This wouldn’t do. She would never sleep tonight if she knew there was a stranger traipsing about their property. It might be common for 322 Predicament Avenue, but the only time someone had come unwelcome onto the lawn of the James manor, they had climbed the trellis and entered Polly’s room.
Effie hurried from Polly’s room, ducking into both brothers’ bedrooms. Neither Ezekiel nor Charles was there. Her mother was at a ladies’ event. Effie steeled herself. Father was away at work. Nurse Carlisle had gone home for a spell while Effie kept watch over Polly. The last thing Effie wanted to do was confront a trespasser, but she had to do something about his skulking in the bushes.
She wound her way down the stairs and through the back hall to the door that led to the driveway and back entrance. She moved onto the porch with hesitant steps. There. He wasn’t even hiding or skulking. The man merely seemed to be surveying the gardens at the edge of the property. She observed him for a minute and noticed he had a limp.
Effie pressed against the banister, grabbing ahold of it. She’d seen the man before. There was something familiar about him.
He lifted his face, and Effie knew instantly.
Floyd Opperman. Mabel Opperman’s son.
Everyone in Shepherd knewofFloyd, but most rarely saw him. Mabel was protective of him. Everyone in town had heard how Floyd had been kicked by a cow as a young boy and had never been the same since. People avoided him. They avoided Mabel too. No one spoke to either of them unless it was necessary. No one questioned the Oppermans because no one knew the Oppermans.
Effie felt a small shudder pass through her. The recollection of Mrs. Opperman’s cold eyes staring at her as she and Anderson had left her house lived deep in her memory. Something was not right about the Oppermans. Not with Mabel Opperman, and not with her property on Predicament Avenue. And Floyd?
He started ambling across the yard toward Effie. There was a strange look on his face she couldn’t interpret. As he drew closer, her heart thudded against her chest. His shirt had dark rust-colored stains on it, reminding her of the blood she’d seen at Predicament Avenue.
“What do you want, Floyd?” Effie asked, deciding to be direct. He had to be in his early forties. Folks said he was harmless, but no one was completely sure.
Floyd narrowed his eyes. He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak. The longer the silence went on, the more Effie trembled.
“Floyd?” she said, taking little solace in the barricade of the porch railing she stood behind. “Can I help you with something?”
He took another few steps closer, and Effie realized how large the man was, his bulky frame solid and sturdy-looking. He took another step.
Effie forced herself not to retreat into the house. There was no good reason to be frightened of him. His shirt wasn’t the only piece of clothing with the rust-colored stains. His pants had splotches on the thighs and knees that hadn’t been as noticeable before he’d drawn closer.
