Ghost Hunt: Chilling Tales of the Unknown by Jason Hawes, Grant Wilson, Cameron Dokey Read Free Book Online Page A

places?”
    “The banging noise has a more everyday explanation,” Jason said. “It’s the bumpers on the dock. They’re old and loose. They make a lot of noise when your boat hits them just right.”
    “Well,” Mr. Martin said. “So at least the bumpers aren’t haunted.”
    “We
never
assume anything is haunted,” Jason said. “We always come with an open mind. And we actually
like
to debunk things. It makes the times when we do decide we’ve encountered the paranormal that much stronger. I’d like to play a recording for you.”
    He turned to Lyssa. “Please play back the recording you made in the main cabin.”
    “Will do,” Lyssa said. She pulled out the portable recorder. The sound was already cued up. She pressed the play button.
    Everyone listened.
    “I can hear footsteps. Is that you?” Diana asked.
    “Yes.” Lyssa nodded.
    Then the whisper came on. So clear and close by that even Mr. Martin jumped.
    After the whisper—just silence. Lyssa turned off the equipment.
    “I wish we could tell you we know what the voice says,” Jason said. “We can’t make out the words. But the voice certainly sounds like a human whisper. It’s a very clear recording…”
    “A recording of a ghost?” Mr. Martin asked.
    Jason nodded.

     
    “Hey, check it out,” Lyssa said a couple of weeks later. “We just got a letter from Diana Martin.”
    “What does it say?” Jen asked.
    Lyssa opened the envelope.
    “Dear Jason, Grant, and all the TAPS team,
” she read aloud.
“Thank you for coming to our houseboat. You helped us a lot! Even my dad thinks so.”
    “I’m glad to hear that,” Grant said with a smile.
    “We had a family meeting after you left. We decided to do some work at Heron’s Point. Dad made some repairs to the dock. He replaced some rotting timbers. And he took off the old bumpers and put on brand-new ones. Guess what? The banging sound is gone.
    “But here’s the best part. I haven’t seen the Heron’s Point ghost again. Mom says she thinks maybe Peter Stone was trying to warn us. But things are safer now that we fixed up the dock. So he doesn’t have to hang around.
    “True confession: I still don’t always find my stuff where I thought I put it. But I guess Dad was right about this one thing at least. It’s probably me and not a ghost.
    “Thank you so much for helping our family. Now I like going to Heron’s Point. Anytime you want to sail with us, just give a call. I promise it won’t be scary.
    “Yours sincerely,
    Diana Martin.”

GHOSTS WITH NO LEGS
     
    B ill Turner was scared. Big-time scared.
    It was midnight. He was supposed to be in bed. But here he was. Creeping downstairs in the dark house, his back pressed tight against the wall. He wished he could make himself flat as a pancake, or maybe even flatter. That way, he wouldn’t stick out into the hall.
    Because Bill didn’t want to stick out. Not when there might be something in the hall, something he didn’t want to get too close to.
    What was that?
    Bill froze. His right foot hovered over the fourth step fromthe bottom. His heart pounded. His ears strained for the slightest sound.
    Nothing. There’s nothing there,
he thought.
Just keep going.
    He had to make it all the way downstairs. He had to make it to his secret place. His safe place. Then he could put his plan into action.
    Somebody
had to do
something
about what was going on in his house. Mom and Dad sure hadn’t come through so far. Bill’s older brother, David, was no help at all. Dave was fifteen. He pretended Bill didn’t exist. Mindy, their little sister, was only seven. Too little.
    That just leaves me,
Bill thought.
    He put his foot down.
    Creeaak.
    That step always creaked if he put his foot down wrong. Cold sweat trickled down the back of Bill’s neck. The best place to put his foot was in the very middle of the step.
    To do that, he had to move away from the wall.
    Please don’t come,
he prayed.
Please don’t come tonight. At least not