Page 61 of Home Is Where the Bodies Are

I scan the kitchen again. A telephone hangs on a wall covered in faded floral wallpaper. The coiled beige cord isn’t connected to the receiver. It hangs freely, swaying left to right from the vent blowing hot air beneath it. An umbilical cord cut loose from its energy source.

“Is your phone broken?”

“No. But it rings off the hook with calls from people I have no interest in talking to. Reporters, pranksters, bill collectors, and those that wish death upon me.”

“Have you considered moving? This town’s not going to change their mind about you. You could leave and start fresh elsewhere.”

“Can’t. My money’s all tied up in this house, and I’ve got my mother to look after. Ya know, before all this happened, no one in this town paid me any mind. I thought that was unbearable, feeling invisible, like I don’t matter. But now I know that being detested is far worse than going unnoticed.” Charles shakes his head and shuffles his feet. He looks to me. “You’re the only one from town that’s been kind to me.”

I swallow hard and force a polite smile.

If only he knew...

THIRTY-THREE

BETH

The engine sputters once, twice before finally turning over. Michael clutches the handle above the passenger-side window like he’s bracing for a bumpy ride. He offered to drive, but I insisted. I was the one with Mom in her final moments, so I should be the one who collects her and brings her home. Nicole sits in the back, thumbing through papers.

At the park, I turn left onto Highway X and head toward Delavan where the funeral home is located. It’s two towns over. In the rearview mirror, I watch Nicole. Her eyes sweep left to right as she reads, pausing every now and then to take notes.

I know Casey gave her more police files at the bar last night, but she hasn’t brought them up. Is she hiding something? And if so, why is she hiding it from us?

“What are you reading?” I ask.

Her eyes find mine in the mirror. “Nothing,” she says.

Michael watches her via the vanity mirror fixed to his sun visor. “What was Casey doing at the bar last night?”

“Just hanging out.” Nicole shrugs.

Michael and I exchange a look. Maybe he was right. Maybe Casey is a bad influence on her. He thinks he’s helping Nicole with research, but really, she’s spiraling. The case files are like the lyrics of a siren’s song about the past, a place she can no longer live or visit.

“Oh yeah? Casey normally hangs out at the Boar’s Nest while on duty?” Michael asks.

She lifts her head and squints.

“You shouldn’t be involving him in this,” I add.

“Casey doesn’t know anything. He thinks he’s helping me with research for a book,” Nicole argues.

“He’s going to get suspicious, especially since you keep asking him for more,” I say.

“And what if someone notices those files are missing? One could easily be written off as an accident, multiple... not so much.” Michael cocks his head.

Nicole’s eyes darken. I try to keep my attention on the road, but I can’t help but look at her, studying her facial expression. It’s a defiant one, or maybe it’s more indignant. The highway is clear in front, surrounded by corn fields on either side, so I’m not too worried about watching the road. It’s only what’s behind us that scares me.

“They won’t,” she argues.

“They might,” I say. “Now, what else did he give you?”

She huffs and flips through the folders in her lap. “He brought me the case file on Christie Roberts’s disappearance.”

“Why?” Michael groans.

“Because I asked for it.”

“No, I figured that much. Why did you want it? You still think Mom and Dad had something to do with her disappearance?” He turns in his seat to look at her.

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