Page 149 of April Shadows (Shadows 1)

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here anymore less they are,"

When Trevor came out, he looked shocked. "Well?" Mrs. Westington demanded

immediately. She approached the top step.

"There's a man dead in there, all right, and he's

lying beside a giant doll."

"What?" she asked. recoiling. "What kind of a

nonsense story is that?"

"I swear. Mrs, Westington," Trevor said, raising

his hand.

I continued to sob and embrace myself. "My

uncle's a... performer... and... the doll is part of our

act," I explained breathlessly.

"How'd he kick the bucket?" Mrs. Westington

asked Trevor.

"Don't know as I could say. Mrs. Westington.

Must've been pretty sick. Looks to me like he spat up

some blood," he added, looking my way.

"He drank," I mumbled.

"What's that?" she asked,

"My uncle was an alcoholic," I admitted. "Oh. Well. I know a little about that. My

husband drank himself to hell. It ain't no pretty kettle

of fish. Well, don't stand there. It's going to rain cats

and dogs shortly. We'll make the proper phone call.

Leave that vehicle door open. Trevor. Air it out." "Yes. ma'am."

She tapped her cane hard on the portico wood

floor. "Come along. We ain't got all day," she said

turning.

I looked back at Trevor.

"It's best to do what she says," he told me. I

followed Mrs. Westington into her house.

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