img Whispering Walls  /  Chapter 9 8 | 34.62%
Download App
Reading History

Chapter 9 8

Word Count: 1234    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

THE DAR

arning. Convinced that someone must be crouching beneath the o

was i

rmured. She added jokingly, "Maybe this place has a ghost

host," the photographer muttered. "We'll do a li

wed him outside. Behind them, the door

e was visible in the clearing nor were

whispered by someone standing close to the window who

e from the very inside of

, so the only place a person could hide would be ou

tage and whispered the warning," Penny sai

rin

ed to prevent me investigating

y have follo

d like hers," Penny insisted. "No

ver it was, let's not be bluffed out, Penny

grapher's annoyance, it refused to open e

"Did you close the door w

. The wind must ha

wind? Look a

a leaf wa

" Penny said with a nervous giggle. She glanced at h

retorted

Penny tagging none too happily at his heel

w!" Penny gasped. "H

d locked with a spring catch, but this window is a horse

d it? How was it done

so that she could peer inside the room

f anyone. But

t demanded impatiently

ell lamp! It's n

ur

er if I wore bifocal

a dog," muttered Salt. "We'll find out what

ll. "Locked," she repo

htly to the ground. "Wait until I find

ve already overstepped our rights. W

onkey of us," the photograph

the eyes, Salt. Even the atmosp

ing to turn your back on an unsolv

inished in a firm voice: "We were sent here to get a story and picture for the St

d at the moving hands and muttered: "Jeepers! We've got

the road. As they approached the house, the rear door

n't believe she could have been the one who whispered the

d, starting to adjust his camera. "Ma

raised a hand squarely in front of her face a

o ask you to leave. Mother is so upset. The telephone is

n the verge of tears. S

"That's why I am giving you this. Mother doe

of a middle-aged man who wore glasses. His left cheek was m

ather!" she

ked to have his photograph taken. If you use it, please ta

ed. "This photograph should

ily down the path toward the thatched-roof cottage, but

t hastened on to the parked press car. Starting the c

ugh the trees she could see only the roof-t

rubbery. The fall weather had tinted many of the bushes scarlet, yellow or bronze. Gazing t

large, shaggy dog. Then she became certain it wa

med sharply. "Look

slowed the car,

out 'em,

n, only to change his mind. "You're

eways, the photographer swerved the c

going to do?"

e to reply. Already he was out of

Download App
icon APP STORE
icon GOOGLE PLAY