Page 20 of Silent Night

David hesitated, his face growing somber. "I don't like sharing another person's sins, especially when they've made efforts to repent and reform. However, under the circumstances..." He sighed, resigned. "Simon was convicted of assaulting his girlfriend."

"Assaulting her?" Sheila asked, her heart pounding in her chest. "What exactly did he do to her?"

"According to Simon's own testimony," David said, his voice low and pained, "he attempted to strangle her."

CHAPTER TEN

Sheila sat in the driver's seat of the van, her hands gripping the wheel as she stared at the house across the street, thinking of the pastor's words about Simon West—or whatever his real name was. Beside her, Natalie shifted in her wheelchair, her eyes focused on their target as well.

"Pastor Walden said West's turned over a new leaf, that he's not the same violent man anymore," Sheila murmured, her voice filled with doubt. "But do you think people can really change, Nat?"

Natalie shrugged, her gaze never leaving the house. "People can surprise you, Sheila. But I wouldn't bet my life on it."

The early afternoon light illuminated the modest one-story home, giving it an almost deceptively serene appearance. Its off-white exterior was clean and well-maintained, the windows framed by pristine white shutters. A neatly trimmed lawn surrounded the property, bordered by a low wooden fence. On the surface, the house seemed unassuming and harmless—akin to its supposed occupant.

"Nothing about this place screams 'violent criminal'," Sheila mused, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Natalie said. "Let's drive over there and see if he's home."

Sheila shifted the van into drive and approached the house, her hands gripping the steering wheel with an intensity that betrayed her nerves. As they pulled up to the house, she glanced over at Natalie, whose expression was a mix of determination and concern. The two sisters shared a brief, wordless exchange before getting out of the vehicle.

"Here goes nothing," Sheila muttered as they made their way to the front door. She raised a clenched fist and knocked. They waited in tense silence for a response, but none came.

"Think he's out?" she asked, peering through a window beside the door. She could make out a narrow glimpse of the interior—a darkened hallway lined with framed photographs.

"Could be," Natalie said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Or he might just not want to answer. Try the door knob."

"Isn't that illegal? Entering without authorization?"

Natalie smiled. "Yes, it is. But checking whether a door is locked to give us a better idea of whether he's home or not? Nothing illegal about that."

Sheila reached for the doorknob and gave it a tentative turn, but it would not budge. "Locked," she said, drumming her fingers against the door in frustration. "Now what?"

"Maybe you should snoop around a bit," Natalie suggested, nodding toward the side of the house. "You never know what you might find."

A thrill of excitement coursed through Sheila at the prospect of taking matters into her own hands. "Are you sure?" she asked. "It's not trespassing?"

"Just to walk around the house?" Natalie waved a dismissive hand. "In my book, that's called good policework."

Sheila nodded and, steeling herself for whatever she might find, darted around the side of the house, her keen eyes scanning for any signs of West's presence. The gravel crunched beneath her sneakers as she tried to peer through the windows. To her disappointment, however, the blinds were drawn tight, obstructing her view.

"Any luck?" Natalie called.

"Nothing yet," Sheila said, frustration evident in her tone. She pressed on, rounding the corner to enter the backyard. It was a simple, unassuming space: a small patch of well-trimmed grass surrounded by wooden fencing and a few flower beds lining the perimeter. A modest patio sat adjacent to the house, adorned with a couple of chairs and a recently used grill. Nothing seemed out of place or suspicious, leaving Sheila feeling increasingly uncertain about their mission.

Where was West? If he wasn't home, how could they track him down? She considered returning to Natalie and suggesting they stake out his workplace when an eerie sound caught her attention.

Pausing mid-step, Sheila strained her ears, trying to pinpoint the source of the muffled noise. It sounded like it was coming from below—the basement, perhaps?

Her pulse pounding in her ears, Sheila took careful steps toward the side of the house. She stepped into the flower bed, her pulse quickening as she pushed past overgrown bushes. The scent of damp soil and wilted flowers filled her nostrils, heightening her senses. She crouched down to peer through a low basement window. Straining her eyes, she tried to make out any details in the darkened room.

There was movement—subtle, but unmistakable. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and her stomach twisted with unease. Sheila's fingers brushed against the window latch, surprised to find it unlocked. A sudden urge to explore the basement swelled within her, driven by her relentless ambition to uncover the truth.

Still…doing so would be against the law, wouldn't it? She decided to check with Natalie first.

She hurried around the side of her house to her sister. Natalie watched her approach, her head cocked with curiosity.

"Nat," Sheila said urgently. "I think there might be someone in the basement."

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