The Ghost of Cutler Creek by Cynthia DeFelice Read Free Book Online

the windows had been broken and lay in sharp, glittering shards on the ground. A sheet of metal roofing had torn loose and was flapping erratically in the wind with a hollow clang. The abandoned hulk of a building looked cold in contrast to the sunny glare of the empty parking lot, and an odd odor of decay drifted from it.
    Allie walked faster, feeling silly even as she did, and grateful for the company of Dub and Hoover. There were times when, like her parents, she wished her imagination weren’t quite so vivid.
    â€œMaybe he won’t be home,” she said, trying to shake the feeling the old plant had given her.
    Naturally, Dub knew she was talking about L.J. “I hope he is,” he said. “Otherwise, this whole trip is a waste. We’ll just have to come back. Or explain to Mr. Henry why we didn’t.”
    â€œThen we’d better decide what we’re going to say when we get there.” Allie sighed. “We can’t tell him Mr. Henry wanted us to make friends with the poor little new kid. I can just hear him: ‘I told you I don’t need no baby-sitter!’”
    They continued walking.
    â€œI know,” said Allie. “We can say we noticed he seemed to like Hoover, and since we were out walking Hoover, anyway, we decided to stop over.” Dub didn’t answer right away and Allie added, “Although I’m not exactly sure he liked Hoover. It was just that she was the only thing he showed any interest in at all.”
    â€œAnd then we hope he doesn’t ask how we found out where he lives,” said Dub.
    â€œIt’s going to be awful however we do it,” said Allie. She could feel Dub looking at her closely. “What?” she asked.
    â€œYou’re not usually so pessimistic,” he answered.
    Allie shrugged. She wasn’t sure why she was letting L.J. bother her so much.
    â€œRelax,” Dub said cheerfully. “What can happen? There are three of us and one of him. If he tries anything, Hoover’ll lick him, right, girl?”
    Hoover grinned a doggy grin, clearly happy to be the focus of their attention, and Allie laughed. “Yeah, Hoover’ll go right up and give him a big kiss.”
    Allie did relax a little, at least until they came to the turn onto Dundee Road. Past a stand of scrubby bushes and a swampy area filled with cattails sat a house, all by itself except for a lopsided barn in the field behind it. A dilapidated mailbox was fixed to a post near the road. The name on it was Keegan, not Cutler, but the number matched the one Mr. Henry had given them.
    â€œThis must be it,” Allie said, squinting at the house. “I guess they haven’t had time to change the name.”
    The sun was in her eyes, making it difficult to get a good look at the house, but she could see that it wasn’t in any better shape than the mailbox. The yard was overgrown and filled with an odd assortment of objects: a stained sink, a rusty wheelbarrow, some cinder blocks, a pink bicycle with tattered streamers hanging from the handles, and a plastic Santa Claus lying on his side near a plastic reindeer. It looked as if someone had used the reindeer for target practice.
    The place made Allie very uncomfortable. She turned to Dub, who was looking around curiously. “Creepy, huh?” she said. “Plus, I’m starting to get ghost vibes.”
    â€œOh, great,” Dub replied. “What do you think we should do?”
    â€œGo up and knock on the door, I guess.”
    They climbed up the stairs onto the porch, which was just as cluttered as the yard. There was a stained mattress with stuffing coming out and another with the springs poking through, along with cardboard boxes filled with old magazines, bottles, and cans.
    Allie and Dub approached the door, and Allie peered through a rip in the screen to a room that held a couch and a television and not much else. No sign of L.J. She knocked, and she and Dub listened