Page 37 of Home Is Where the Bodies Are

The sound of something thudding against the hardwood floor steals our attention. Nicole bends down to pick up the fat manila envelope that slipped from her hand.

“What’s that?” Michael asks.

She holds it against her chest. A guilty look slithers across her face. I know he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him. I didn’t like it either. Her actions were careless and messy, even more so now, with the break-in.

“Emma Harper’s case file,” she says.

Michael blows out his cheeks. “Where’d you get it?”

“From a friend.” She shrugs, trying to act nonchalant.

“Why?” he asks.

“You said if we didn’t find anything then we wouldn’t tell anyone, but we can’t find anything if we don’t look,” Nicole argues.

She was fine leaving the past in the past yesterday, so it wouldn’t “tarnish” her reputation. I’m not sure where the change of heart came from. Perhaps it finally sank in that there wasn’t anything left to tarnish.

“I meant find something here.” He gestures to our parents’ belongings scattered across the floor. “Not playing Nancy Drew and stealing files from the police station.”

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“Did your ‘friend’ steal it?” Michael makes air quotes around the wordfriend.

“He borrowed it,” she says, raising her chin.

“Oh, I didn’t realize the police had a library system for their unsolved case files.” He rolls his eyes and starts off toward the kitchen.

The fridge opens, glass clinks against glass, and a moment later he returns with a bottle of Miller Lite perched to his lips. He swigs nearly half of it. Michael’s been gone a long time and isn’t used to dealing with someone like Nicole. She does things the way she wants. Sometimes you gotta give her an inch, but make sure to reel her back in before she takes a mile.

“Since we already have the case file, it doesn’t hurt to look it over,” I offer, knowing that it’ll keep Nicole occupied.

“And what if someone notices it’s missing?” Michael asks.

“They won’t,” Nicole says.

“But if they do?”

“Case files go missing all the time,” she says.

Michael furrows his brow. “How would you know that?”

“I’ve seen a lot of police procedural shows.”

“This isn’t an episode ofNCIS, Nicole. This is real life, and it has real consequences,” he lectures.

“I know that. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, you’re acting like it.” He shakes his head.

“Oh, piss off, Michael. Just because you went to some fancy college and work at some fancy tech firm doesn’t mean you’re smarter than me. So, stop pretending like you are.” She narrows her eyes at him.

“I don’t have to pretend, Nicole.” He drinks his beer and turns his back to her, walking farther into the living room, careful not to step on anything.

Nicole’s face is flushed and her hand makes a fist. My phone dings and I retrieve it from my back pocket to check the notification.

When Nicole can’t contain her anger anymore, she marches toward him. “You know what, Michael? I’m so sick of your?—”

“Oh my God,” I cry out.

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