Secret Keepers and Skinny Shadows: Lee and Miranda Read Online Free Page A

started drinking yet. He reached up with his big hand to brush him off, as he did it revealed an evil grin, showing its pointed teeth, then vanished into thin air as quickly as it appeared. Bert shivered. Wide-eyed, he watched in the mirror to be sure it was gone.
    He knew seeing that thing wasn’t a good sign, he continued to stare long and hard into the mirror thinking maybe he was going out of his mind, but he didn’t think he looked crazy.
    He hurried for the door, turned into the hall and made his way toward the stairs, passing the attic door, he noticed it was standing open. He pushed it shut, locked it, and went down to the kitchen.
    “You’re going to miss your bus to town if you don’t hurry.” His taste buds perked up smelling the fresh coffee, coming from the cup Lizzie was holding.
    Before she could offer him some he said, “Cadaverous, the old goblin, was sitting on my shoulder up there again.”
    Lizzie set her cup on the table, turned, shaking her crooked finger at him.
    “It’s all our mother’s fault. If she hadn’t messed around with those evil spirits, doing all those weird things like stopping blood and blowing fire, you wouldn’t see the devil sitting on your shoulder all the time. Mark my words Bert, that’s a bad omen.”
    He got up from his chair shaking his head. “Lizzie, shut up. Forget I ever mentioned it. You can’t blame our mother for everything. Janie and Joanie’s mother died seventeen years ago, but you’re the one who sees her standing at the foot of your bed in the middle of the night.”
    By this time he was half listening to her and thinking how tasty the coffee smelled. On his way to the door, he stopped long enough to scoop up his wool hunting jacket hanging over the back of one of the wooden chairs. He slipped it on. He loved how warm and cozy it was as he buttoned it up.
    The frosty February air sent a shiver through him when he opened the door, even though the sun was shining. Lizzie was mumbling something as he closed the door behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief to be out of earshot of her endless chattering. He thought about the poor man who might someday be her husband. 
    Bertrand and Elizabeth shared their ancestral home built in 1899, in a little village, south of Bridgetown. Of course, no one called him Bertrand; he was known as Big Bert Grayson. Elizabeth was Liz to most people and Lizzie to Bert.
    They were the only two of five children in the family who never saw marriage in their futures. One reason could’ve been Bert was too much of a drinking man while Lizzie was too prim and proper—all the men who came into her life never lived up to her expectations. Together, this brother and sister continued to live on the old homestead that occupied a half-acre in the middle of one hundred acres of prime farmland in the lush mountains of New York.
    Their mother and father passed away without leaving a will. This led to family battles over dividing up the estate, leaving five strong-willed children to settle it. Bert and Liz had permission from their siblings to live in the family homestead until one of them died, then the property was to be split up between the remaining heirs.
    One of the heirs, Miser the oldest sister grew restless and unhappy with this arrangement. She wanted Bert and Lizzie kicked out and everything divided up right away. She didn’t want to wait for her inheritance, but she had no choice. The majority ruled. That was the agreement between the five of them established many years ago.
    Every Saturday Bert walked a mile and a half from his home to catch the afternoon bus to town. He knew he was running late so he picked up the pace, coming to the conclusion his work cloths weren’t warm enough by the time he arrived at the bus stop. He stood waiting on the bus thinking he should’ve put on his long Johns, but at least he was smart enough to put on his jacket.
    An icy wind started to blow, stinging his already wind-burned cheeks. He