Detective Samuel Kerr and Officer Dana Morales arrived just as dusk settled over the small suburban street. The house looked ordinary with trimmed hedges and a porch light that flickered softly. But there was something in the air that felt wrong, like a silence waiting to break.
The door opened to reveal Frank Olsen, Nora’s stepfather. His build was solid, his hands rough with calluses from construction work. “Evening, officers. What is this about?”
Kerr showed his badge. “We received a welfare report concerning your stepdaughter. We need to check the house.”
Frank hesitated for a moment. “There is no problem here. My wife and the girl are fine.”
Behind him, Elise Jensen stood with a blank, weary expression. Her voice trembled when she said, “Maybe let them look, Frank.”
Nora appeared in the hallway. Her small frame was stiff, her face pale. When her eyes met the detective’s, they flickered for the briefest moment toward a door beside the kitchen. It lasted less than a heartbeat, but Kerr noticed.
“Mind if we look in the basement?” he asked.
Frank’s tone sharpened. “There is nothing down there but old tools.”
Kerr’s voice was steady. “We still need to see it.”