Ink and Shadows(Secret, Book, & Scone Society #4)(23)

Nora took out her phone, and her thumb hovered over the emergency button. She moved slowly, glancing around as she climbed the metal stairs to her deck.

The bright moon cast a spotlight on her front door, and Nora saw a piece of paper poking out from under her welcome mat. Her uneasiness doubled as she bent down and yanked the paper free.

If it had been something she recognized—a book page, a newspaper clipping, a computer printout—Nora would have carried it inside her house. But it was unlike anything she’d ever seen before and she couldn’t stop looking at it.

The paper seemed old. It was much thicker than modern paper and had the yellow-tinged patina of incunabula. The page was covered in symbols written in black ink with a penpoint that bit deep into the paper. Nora wasn’t sure if she was looking at a language or some kind of code, but the peculiar symbols reminded her of a tattooed arm reaching out to Bren.

Nora didn’t understand why this page was under her mat or what its contents meant. Nor could she begin to comprehend the bizarre drawing in the middle of the symbols. It was a spiral. On either side of the spiral stood two robed figures. One held a bowl. The other, a snake.

The ghost tingle in Nora’s finger intensified.

Is someone watching me?

Moving to the edge of her deck, she scanned the slope behind her house and froze. She saw a shadowy shape lying on the grass. A mass of darkness that didn’t belong there. It could be a dead fox or deer, but Nora knew that it wasn’t.

Panicking, she unlocked her door with shaky hands. Inside her house, she dropped the mysterious paper and grabbed a flashlight and a sheathed carving knife. She stuck the knife under the waistband of her jeans and took the stairs two at a time until she hit the ground, her phone in one hand and the flashlight in the other.

Fear raised gooseflesh on Nora’s arms and the back of her neck, and the grass soaked her shoes in cold dew. She was all alone, with her house behind her and the dark form in front of her.

“Who’s there?” she called, her voice sounding muffled and small.

She hadn’t expected an answer, so Nora steeled herself and aimed the flashlight beam at the lump.

The dead thing was not a deer.

Nora cried out in horror.

She’d looked into those eyes and watched expressions cross that moon-pale face earlier tonight. She’d heard words come from those blue lips. She’d made a list of books to give this young woman.

But it was too late now. Bren Leopold was beyond help.





Chapter 6


Life is short, and time is swift;

Roses fade, and shadows shift —Ebenezer Elliott





Nora was scared. Out on that shadowy hill, she felt completely exposed.

Despite her fear, she wouldn’t leave Bren. She knew no one would blame her if she watched over the dead girl from the safety of her deck, but she couldn’t do it. Bren had been alone in the dark for too long already. She deserved a friend now, even though she was beyond caring about such things.

Sitting in the damp grass, Nora was keenly aware of the night’s stillness. The stars were frozen in the black sky. The woods beyond the railroad tracks were a silent fortress. There were no bird calls or animal cries. It was as if all of nature was paying its respects to the dead.

Nora wished a long freight train would come rumbling by. She’d welcome the familiar vibration and the clackety-clack of the wheels, but the track stayed empty and cold.

As the minutes passed, the feeling of solitude increased. And with it, Nora’s unease. She needed to focus her mind on something, so she looked at Bren.

What happened to you? Nora silently asked.

She let her flashlight beam fall on Bren’s face. Leaning closer, she was immediately struck by the fetid odor of vomit. As she sat on her heels, breathing in fresh air, Nora noticed Bren’s hand. It was small, and the skin was delicate and smooth. She chewed her fingernails. The skin around her nails was red and flaking. Her dark polish was mostly picked off.

“Why were you so unhappy?”

Nora thought of the books she’d wanted to give Bren. She thought of how Bren would never read another book, create another memory, or make another necklace. She wouldn’t meet new people or live the daring life she’d dreamed about. The life that would start only after she left her mother.

“Oh, Celeste.”

Tears blurred Nora’s eyes. The longer she stared at Bren’s nails, the more they looked like works of abstract art. Nora believed that the comparison would please Bren.

When the wail of sirens finally broke the stillness, Nora didn’t feel relieved. She felt like running away.

“You didn’t do this,” she reminded herself.

But was she a bad person for assuming that Bren had overdosed? What if she hadn’t? What if something else had caused her death?

Resuming her examination by flashlight, Nora saw no obvious signs of violence. There was no blood. No bruising on the exposed skin. Bren’s clothing was intact. She’d vomited, and when June had seen Bren retching a week ago, she’d suggested that Bren might be on something. It was possible she’d been using tonight as well. Something other than the joints she’d smoked.

The sirens grew louder, and Nora brought the light back to Bren’s face. She noticed a twig caught in Bren’s hair and gently pulled it free. The movement tugged a lock of Bren’s hair to one side, revealing a dark mark at the nape of her neck. Nora shone her light on it.