I can’t believe it happened here—a murder, here in humble Lancing Falls, where nothing ever happens! Sure, there was the alleged library haunting, where the books started flapping around like crows. Plus the evening we all did the “Thriller” dance in unison despite having no prior practice. And that month where the raccoons began walking on their hind legs and singing to us in Barry Manilow-esque voices. Not to mention the fish that fell from the sky, the slaughterhouse cow bones that reanimated, and Ms. Laughlin’s entire first-grade class’s heads all spinning 360 degrees. But never a murder—now that’s weird.