Page 84 of Night Falls on Predicament Avenue
The room had grown chilly, whether from the temperature or from the threat of Patrick Charlemagne’s presence, Effie didn’t know. She was thankful Patrick had stepped away from her for the time being. She moved her fingers to her neck to rub it, recalling the way the hands had squeezed her throat. A woman’s hands.
“Who was the woman here the other day?” she asked.
Patrick was pacing by the door. He halted and stared at her. “What woman?”
“When I was attacked. It wasn’t you. It was a woman!”
“Hmm.” Patrick rubbed his chin. “Mabel Opperman, probably. She would do anything for Floyd, her half-wit son.”
“Stop it!” Effie snapped.
“Stop what?” Patrick stiffened. “Telling the truth? The man’s as dumb as an ox.”
“He’s suffered!” Effie argued, though she wasn’t quite sure she should be defending Floyd.
“We all have, Miss James. We all have. In one way or another, suffering comes to us all. Most people, though, who get kicked in the head by a cowdie. Unfortunately, he didn’t. Maybe the cow didn’t kick him hard enough. But whatever the reason”—he waved his hand haphazardly—“it would have served me greatly had Floyd Opperman died as a lad and stayed out of my way.”
“You’re awful.” It was all Effie could think to say.
Patrick smiled. “No, I’m smart. Unlike Floyd.”
“Are you smart, though?” Effie took a few small steps toward the door. “I’m not sure that you are. It doesn’t appear that any of your plans have worked out.”
Patrick’s expression darkened.
Effie continued, taking another step. “In fact, as it stands,you’re a murderer, your partner Isabelle is dead, you have no child to hold for ransom, and you’re still very much in debt. What will Bethany’s father say when he finds out?”
Patrick scowled at her.
Effie lifted her chin, feeling empowered to speak the truth. Her fear began to ebb, replaced by confidence, courage even. “You, Mr. Charlemagne, are a beast. More so than Floyd Oppermanorthe cow that kicked him.”
“I will kill you,” Patrick said with an air of certainty.
Effie swallowed a surge of fright. “I’m sure you would. And you’d gain nothing from it. You’d be found out, and evil will have failed once again.”
“Evil!” His shout of laughter startled Effie. “I am not the devil, Miss James.”
“ButIam.” The bedroom door was kicked in as the words bellowed through the doorway. Anderson barreled into the room, charging Patrick. The men collided in loud grunts, falling to the floor. Anderson leveled a solid fist into Patrick’s face, but Patrick was quick to weasel from Anderson’s grip and swing back.
Effie ran for the door. The men crashed into the wall, and she heard another grunt, followed by the sound of fists hitting flesh. She catapulted down the stairs and had almost made it to the bottom when her foot caught on the hem of her dress. She flung forward, tumbling down the remaining steps. Effie felt the rush of blood from her nose and the throbbing pain in her shin where it had scraped against the stairs. She grabbed hold of the banister and hauled herself off the floor.
She could still hear the ensuing fight above as she raced for the front door. Flinging it open, Effie hurried into the street. Gus was running toward her as fast as the older man could run.
“We need to get help!” Effie cried. “Go! Get help, Gus!” Gus whirled around back toward the carriage. He made it there before Effie could, her leg giving out beneath her. She waved at him from the walkway. “Go, Gus! Please, go!”
Gus slapped the reins across the horse’s back, and the carriage lurched forward.
Glass shattered from the second story window. Effie saw Anderson and Patrick brawling, Anderson’s arm half through the shattered window.
Effie pushed herself off the ground, ignoring the pain in her body from her tumble. She wiped away the blood that dripped from her nose into her mouth.
Trying to gather her bearings, Effie limped toward the main road. If she remembered right, Mrs. Branson’s house wasn’t far away. Perhaps she would find help there.
The world began to spin, and Effie fought against the feeling of losing control. Anderson needed her. Patrick would kill him if he could.
NORAH
“You did, didn’t you?” Norah choked through tears. Sensing Lyla behind her, Norah held out her arm in a protective gesture.
