Free Christina's Ghost by Betty Ren Wright Page B

on the windshield and grinned at them. Uncle Ralph drove to the sheriff’s office.
    â€œI’ll be glad to get rid of these,” he said, touching the pocket that held the stamps. “I’ve never been in charge of a fortune before.”
    Chris waited in the car and almost fell asleep again before he returned, looking pleased with himself.
    â€œThe sheriff was pretty surprised,” he told Chris as they headed back to the coffee shop for breakfast. “It isn’t every day that evidence turns up to explain a thirty-year-old crime.”
    â€œDid you tell him about the ghosts?”
    â€œNow, that’s a silly question,” Uncle Ralph said. “I told him we found some valuable stamps. In a comic book. Accidentally. I did
not
tell them about Russell Charles or about Thomas Dixon, or about cold winds blowing through the house or footsteps going
thunk
in the night. I have my reputation to think of, you know.”
    â€œBut it did happen,” Chris said, a little doubtfully. In the bright light of morning, with good smells of breakfast toast and bacon around them, last night’s adventure was beginning to seem unreal.
    â€œIt did happen,” Uncle Ralph assured her. “You know it, and I know it. But there’s no reason why anyone else has to hear about it. Agreed?”
    â€œExcept Mom and Dad,” Chris said.
    â€œIf you must.”
    They left it at that. An hour later, they were on their way back to the house, and Chris was struggling to ignore a whole flock of butterflies in her stomach.
Not butterflies
, she thought.
Eagles!
    â€œWe have to go back at least once, sport,” Uncle Ralph had insisted. “Or at least I do. My notes are there and my typewriter—to say nothing of our clothes. You can wait in town if you’d rather.”
    â€œOh, no!” It wouldn’t be fair to make him go back to that house alone.
    â€œGood girl,” Uncle Ralph said. “If there’s anything strange going on, we’ll just grab our stuff and get out. Permanently.”
    â€œRight,” Chris had agreed. Now she held her breath as the car made its final turn into the yard behind the house.
    A blue sedan was parked near the back steps. As Chris and Uncle Ralph stared at it in astonishment, Aunt Grace climbed out on one side and Jenny on the other.
    â€œGood grief!” Uncle Ralph groaned. “Not now!”
    But Aunt Grace was waving a greeting, and Jenny came flying across the grass to meet them, her blond hair shining in the sun.
    â€œWhere were you?” she shouted. “Grandma’s coming home today, Chrissy. We’re going to get her.”
    â€œHi, Jenny.” Chris gave her little sister a hug, but her eyes were on the house. All the windows were open. The curtains hung straight and still.
    â€œWhere in the world have you two been?” Aunt Grace demanded. “Going off and leaving this place open to anyone who wandered by. Really, Ralph!”
    â€œWe had to go to town,” Uncle Ralph said. “And no one wanders by here—except you, Grace.” He scowled. “You didn’t go in, did you?”
    â€œOf course I didn’t go in,” Aunt Grace snapped. “I don’t walk uninvited into other people’s houses. I wasn’t even sure this was the right place. But the car was gone, and I thought surely if it
was
the right place, you’d be back soon. I mean, with all the windows open and the door open. . . .” Her voice trailed off as Uncle Ralph marched past her up the steps and disappeared inside the house.
    For just one moment, Chris hesitated. She felt so safe out here with Aunt Grace and Jenny. Birds sang in the woods, and the air buzzed with insects. Then she ran up the steps after Uncle Ralph.
    â€œWell, honestly,” Aunt Grace said, and followed with Jenny.
    The kitchen was warm and full of light. The worn brick floor gave back a ruddy glow, and the white-painted