Chapter 5Ezra and I finally stepped into the foyer once belonging to Pennsylvania Dupree and Ewan Parish.
“Shall we?” I motioned toward an archway with ornate carved trim in a crescent shape above that mimicked the window over the double door entry.
“Give me a minute.”
“A certain amount of trepidation is a healthy coping mechanism,” I quoted from my previous line of work.
“Right.”
The house meant something, the people in it, even if Ezra had never been inside or met the owners. These stories he spoke of. Were they urban legends of a place that looked like it could be on a movie poster for a horror flick if the weather painted a gray and dreary backdrop? Was that it? Did Ezra Pellisier hide under the covers on Halloween?
He tried a switch on the wall. “More light would help.”
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