Free The Skeleton Haunts a House by Leigh Perry Page A

long as the police officer didn’t hear it, I didn’t care. It wasn’t like I could really hurt Sid anyway.
    Once the officer was back at his post, Deborah said good-bye, adding, “Tell Mom and Dad that if they don’t have plans for dinner, I’ll come over and we’ll order pizza.”
    â€œSounds great,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as phony to the cop as I did to myself. As Madison and I went out, I kept waiting for the long arm of the law to reach for me, but we made it safely to the car.
    I just hoped none of the police had taken pictures of the room where Sid had been hiding, or at some point they might wonder why there was one fewer skeleton than before.

8
    M adison and I barely got in the front door when Sid started yelping, “Put me down, I want out!”
    â€œStop rocking,” I said as I gladly put down the heavy duffel in the front hallway.
    The bag unzipped from inside, and in a process that always entertains me, the bones reassembled themselves and Sid stood up. With a joyful rattle, he bounded into the living room where my parents were on the couch going through mail that had arrived in their absence.
    â€œDr. T! Dr. Mrs. T!” Sid said, jumping between them so he could hug one with each arm. “You two are a sight for sore eye sockets!” I’d told him on the way home that my parents had returned.
    â€œThank you, Sid,” Mom said. “You’re looking well yourself.”
    â€œI think I’ve lost weight since I saw you last. Does it show?”
    â€œIt’s very becoming.”
    â€œTell us about the trip. I want to hear everything! Which place was your favorite? Did you like the food? Did you make it to Shakespeare’s house? Did you see the Rosetta Stone? What about 221B Baker Street—you did go there, didn’t you? And Scotland! Tell me about Scotland!”
    â€œSid, they can’t tell you anything if you don’t stop asking questions,” I pointed out.
    â€œSorry, sorry. Was the White Tower awesome?”
    Mom and Phil laughed and started telling stories ranging from spotting a rainbow in Stratford-upon-Avon that seemed to end at Shakespeare’s grave to viewing the Crown Jewels but somehow finding the reproductions at Madame Tussauds Wax Museum more impressive to the near-religious experiences of visiting the British Library and Trinity College Library in Dublin.
    I was as interested as Sid was, and even Madison stopped texting now and then to listen in, but I grew more and more distracted as time went on. As fascinating as the wonders of the Jane Austen tour were, my mind couldn’t help but wander back to the murder at McHades Hall. So as subtly as I could, I pulled out my cell phone to start checking the Web.
    The police hadn’t given out much info to the press other than the fact of the victim’s death and the usual “investigations are proceeding” line, but a murder in a haunted house was lurid enough to spawn a lot of interest. Add in the facts that Kendall Fitzroy had been young and pretty, and seemed to have no shadows on her background, and it was an irresistible story. There were grief-stricken quotes from her family, boyfriend, and friends, including the trio of high school buddies who’d been with her the night of her death.
    Apparently they had a tradition of attending the Howl together, and even though three of them were attending college out of town, they’d all come home for the festivities. An enterprising reporter had found a photo from a previousHalloween of the four of them dressed as Disney villainesses. I couldn’t decide if it was poignant or morbid.
    Another reporter had researched deaths occurring in haunted houses, which turned out not to be unheard of, but all the others were suicides or accidents. I couldn’t imagine why anybody would have gone to the trouble of committing murder in such a public location. Sure, it was dark and