Free The Haunting of Heck House by Lesley Livingston

crocodilian snout and a mouthful of snaggleteeth that gave him one heck of a drooly speech impediment. But even mystically monsterized by a cursed mummy princess, Artie had proven himself remarkably resourceful. Reminiscing about it in that moment actually gave Cheryl and Tweed a nice shot of encouragement.
    â€œListen,” Cheryl said, “if Shrimpcake could handle that, then we can handle this. And you know what? Maybe this is just another one of those challenges the invite mentioned. You know, see how well we react under stress and all that.”
    â€œIf it is, we probably just bombed out on that one,” Tweed murmured, stepping farther into the gloom of the old house. “Wonder if Cindy and Hazel will be able to handle it better than us …”
    â€œPff.” Cheryl was reasonably certain that there would be no contest on that front. After all, Cindy was most likely still sporting bite marks from her last less-than-successful sitter gig over at the Bottomses’ family house. And there was a rumour widely circulating that Hazel still hadn’t gotten over the time that little Binky Barker had taken a hammer to her cellphone. “I’m not worried aboutthose two. And our brief hiccup will soon be forgotten as we demonstrate our mad sittin’ skills, partner.”
    â€œDo you think any of the other Wiggins sitters accepted the invite?”
    â€œMaybe. I guess we’ll find out soon enough …”
    â€œRight.” Tweed yanked her jacket straight and squared her shoulders. “So. Mission objective?”
    â€œI’d say recon first.” Cheryl nodded decisively. “Check the place out. Get the lay of the land.”
    â€œCheck.”
    Tweed gave Cheryl a bonus C+T Secret Signal (patent pending) and off they went. It was easier to push aside their initial apprehensions once they got focused on the reason for being there in the first place. No doubt the lack of host to greet them was all part of the test to see how they would handle themselves. Not throwing a coat stand through the front window in an immediate escape attempt was sure to score them points right off the bat. Confidence and competence were the order of the day.
    First, they checked out the dining room to the left of the foyer. There was a long dining table set with twelve chairs on each side and one tall armchair at the head of the table. Tall silver candelabras stood in the middle, set with unlit candles.
    â€œOkaaay,” Cheryl said after a quick circuit. “Moving right along …”
    Back through the foyer and over to the other side, a set of tall double doors stood open, leading to acombination living room/study. On one wall was an enormous stone fireplace, logs stacked in the grate, with an assortment of heavy mahogany and leather furniture facing it. The air in the house felt weirdly heavy—as if the girls were walking under water. Dust motes hung in the air, swirling like swarms of tiny insects as Cheryl and Tweed moved through the room.
    â€œBoy,” Cheryl said, “this place could use an update. Lighten up the decor a little, you know?”
    â€œYeah.” Tweed nodded. “Even I have to admit that the whole early-Munsters vibe is kind of a downer. I mean, creepy chandeliers, grandfather clocks, suits of armour … it’s all a bit obvious.”
    â€œAgreed.” Cheryl shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and rocked back and forth on her sneakered feet. Then she strode briskly back out into the grand marble foyer. “Ho-hum. This is pretty typical fare as far as creepy old manor houses go, wouldn’t you say, Tweed?”
    â€œOh definitely. No surprises here,” Tweed agreed, striding equally briskly beside her cousin. “Except, of course, for that piano teetering precariously at the top of the staircase …”
    â€œOh …” Cheryl’s sneakers squeaked to a halt on the marble tile as she stopped and