Devil's Pass Read Online Free Page A

normal teenager.
    That wasn’t possible.
    Instead, he’d let a couple of tears run down his face without wiping them away. If anyone noticed, they’d think he was grieving for his dead grandfather. Nobody in the room suspected that Webb had left home when he’d been busted with drugs in his locker at school. No, to the rest of the clan, Webb’s family was as close-knit as the others, although sometimes he wondered if his grandfather had suspected something was wrong. But there was nothing anyone could have done without making it worse. So the secret remained.
    There were twelve people in the lawyer’s office—Webb and his mother, his mother’s three sisters, two of their husbands, and his five cousins. There was DJ and his twin brother Steve, and Adam and Spencer and Bernard, who insisted on being called Bunny. Webb was pretty sure the only person they all wished could be there was their grandfather.
    Webb had learned to be very watchful, and he saw his cousin DJ shudder. He saw DJ’s mother reach out and place her hand on DJ’s hand.
    â€œIt’s all right, DJ,” she whispered. That’s how quiet the office was; even a whisper carried.
    Webb sensed his mother was watching him just as closely as Webb was watching his cousins, so he leaned forward, knowing his long hair would cover his face. Webb’s hair hung below his shoulders. His stepfather hated that, which was a good enough reason to keep growing it.
    After DJ’s mother whispered to DJ, all of them sat in silence, waiting for the lawyer to arrive. It had been a term of David McLean’s will that all of the grandsons assemble. Webb had left a voice mail for his mother on her cell phone, saying that he would only go to the lawyer’s office if his stepfather wasn’t there.
    Webb thought this was ironic, the silence. His grandfather would never have allowed it. Silence wasn’t an option around David McLean. Laughter, yes. Shouting, yes. Arguing and jokes, yes. Silence, no.
    A man in a suit pushed through the doorway, shutting the door behind him and going to the big mahogany desk in the center of the room.
    â€œGood afternoon” he said. “Thank you for coming. My name is John Devine, and I’ve been David’s lawyer for twenty years. This is a very sad day, and I must admit that this was a day I didn’t expect to be part of. I’m much younger than David, but even so I expected him to outlive me. He was a man of so much passion. It was a true joy to have known him.”
    Webb sensed that Devine meant it. And it was totally correct. Grandpa David had been an amazing man, a joy to everyone who met him.
    â€œThe terms of the will are both straightforward and, shall we say, most interesting,” Mr. Devine said.
    â€œAnd with a most interesting twist. Let’s begin with the more conventional parts. All of David’s assets—his home, investments and cottage—are to be divided equally among his daughters. All of these assets, with the exception of the cottage, are to be liquidated and dispersed to the four heirs. The cottage’s ownership will be transferred to list his daughters as co-owners. It says, and I quote, ‘This was a place of so many great memories shared with my family that I wish it to be used in perpetuity by my grandchildren and their children and their children.’”
    Devine paused. “Is that all clear?”
    Webb felt more tears on his face. He had great memories of the cottage—weekends and summers spent with his cousins and their parents and Grandpa. All of those memories, though, existed in a different life, the life before Webb’s father died of cancer, before his mother married Elliott Skinner.
    â€œExcellent,” Mr. Devine said at the murmurs of agreement. “Now I need to set out the next part—the interesting part—of the will. A sum of money—a rather substantial sum—has been put aside to