Emily crept toward the dining room, Jazzy in one arm and her computer in the other. The floorboards in the hallway groaned, and started off a series of creaks and bangs in the walls and ceilings, an arthritic house settling in for the night. Then she heard another noise, one that was new. Jonah was in the dining room. Emily crept inside. “Jazzy was getting scared,” she said. “I think she had a bad dream.”
Jonah took the little lamp and cradled it. He was silent. Maybe he was just interested in the mystery. Emily started up her computer. She found the Robert Baruch pictures. Then she looked at the next grave, Dimitri Baruch, and then the next, Dorotheé Baruch, then Angelica, then Isaac. Dimitri, short and nice. Dorothée, fat and affectionate. Angelica, chubby and weird. And Isaac, who had
