Free Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay: A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery by R. Barri Flowers Page B

climbed out of bed and went to the
door. After taking a deep breath, she opened it, expecting to see
the girl on the other side.
    Instead there was only darkness, sliced into
by the light from Peyton's room. She stepped gingerly into the
hall, as if she might drop all the way to the ground floor. There
was no sign of Caitlyn.
    Then Peyton spotted what appeared to be
drops of blood leading down the hall. She began to follow the trail
as if her life depended on it. The blood drops stopped at the spare
bedroom at the end of the hallway.
    Peyton stood at the closed door, her pulse
quickening. Should I or shouldn't I?
    The decision was made. I have to see if
Caitlyn is in there. Maybe she's hurt or something.
    Peyton twisted the doorknob. Stepping inside
the room, she found the light switch. She gasped when she saw the
man on the floor. He had been shot in the chest and was moaning in
agony. A puddle of blood lay beneath him, a red roadmap leading
from the door.
    The man looked familiar.
    It was the man who had been shot by
Caitlyn's father in Peyton's dreams.
    What is he doing in our house? Is the person
who shot him here, too?
    "Help me..." the man slurred, reaching a
bloody hand out to Peyton.
    She froze.
    "Please..."
    "I-I can't," she stammered. "I mean, I have
to get my--"
    "No time--" he grunted, coughing up
blood.
    Peyton took tentative steps toward him. "Who
are you?"
    He moaned something indecipherable.
    The closer Peyton got, the more she realized
he was in really bad shape--too bad for her to help him
single-handedly. She started to back away. But with speed that
caught her off guard, he latched a viselike bloody hand around her
ankle.
    "Let me go!" she yelled, seeking to wriggle
free of his powerful grasp.
    But he only tightened it, essentially making
Peyton his prisoner. His face was contorted in anguish and
anger.
    All Peyton could see was that he was a
danger to her and her mother and stepfather. Using her other foot,
she kicked him in the side. He groaned in pain, spitting out more
blood, releasing her ankle in the process. She quickly backpedaled
toward the door, afraid to look away and allow him to grab her
again.
    Peyton suddenly felt her shoulders gripped
tightly from behind. She screamed, knowing it must be the man who
had shot him--Caitlyn's father.
    And now he planned to shoot her, too.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
     
    Peyton fought to break free from the heavy
hands on her shoulders. Through her scream, she heard the voice
bellow, "Peyton, calm down! It's just me...Vance--"
    Swiveling around, Peyton looked up at her
stepfather's face, still apprehensive. She saw alarm etched in his
eyes.
    "Vance...I thought it was--"
    "What on earth has gotten into you,
Peyton?"
    She stopped flailing, somehow feeling
protected by him, given the alternative.
    Her mother came up behind Vance. "What is
it, honey?"
    Peyton gulped. "That man...he's been
shot--"
    "What man?" Vance asked.
    "The one behind me...on the floor..." She
couldn't bear to look at him again.
    "There's no man on the floor, Peyton."
    "There has to be," she insisted.
    "We don't see anyone," Melody stated.
    Peyton sucked in a deep breath and forced
herself to look; sure she would see the bloodied man even if they
couldn't.
    The floor was completely empty. There was
not even a trail of blood like before.
    She broke free of Vance's hold and looked
around the room, as if expecting the injured man to be hiding
somewhere amidst the furnishings. But he had seemingly vanished.
Just like Caitlyn had at the door of her bedroom.
    "You must've had another bad dream,
sweetheart," her mother said.
    "No, it wasn't a dream, Mom." Peyton
shuddered. "He was here. I saw him and I wasn't sleepwalking! There
was blood leading down the hall to this room."
    Vance cut on the hall light and peered.
"Where is this blood?"
    Peyton moved past them into the hall and saw
no sign of blood drops. Had she conjured up the whole thing against
her wishes?
    "But the girl..." she uttered weakly.
    "What