Read Online Secrets in the Shadows by V. C. Andrews - Free Book Online Page B

breeze. I saw the lawn sprinklers go on and begin saturating some of the new seeds and the blades that were already starting the spring grasses. Mrs. Harrison had a row of multicolored flowers in front of the porch. It all looked picture perfect, belonging on some house and garden magazine. There was nothing to suggest its sordid past.
I started to turn away when I heard someone ask, "Is that you?"
I turned more to my left and saw Craig Harrison step out from behind a hedge. He had a pair of hedge cutters in his hands. He wore a very tight Tshirt, which emphasized his sculptured muscularity, a baseball cap on backwards and jeans. Some strands of his light-brown hair stuck out of the sides of his cap, and his bangs seemed to float over his forehead, not touching his skin. His eyes were light green, but in sunlight they became a richer emerald. At six feet two, with his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he looked like a prime candidate for Mr. Teen America. I always thought there was something impish about his tight smile. Although I tried to ignore most of the boys at school, especially the ones who leered and whispered when I passed by, I couldn't help but cast a glance at Craig.
"No," I said. "It's someone else."
I started to walk away.
"Hey, wait a minute," he cried and came hurrying around the hedges to the sidewalk. "What's the rush?"
"I have a dental appointment," I said.
"Huh?" He stared at me a moment, and then he laughed. "Okay. Sorry. I just didn't recognize you. Nice outfit," he said, letting his eyes move slowly up from my feet to my head, as if he had to capture me in some memory bank forever and ever. "I knew there was a pretty girl in those potato sacks you wear."
"They're not potato sacks."
"Whatever." He drew closer. "Never saw you wearing lipstick and stuff. What's up? You have a birthday or something?"
"No. Why would that matter anyway?" I asked, smirking at him
He shrugged. "I heard some mothers don't let their daughters wear makeup until they're a certain age."
I didn't want to point out that I didn't live with my mother, but I could see the thought registering in his mind.
"Or grandmothers," he quickly added.
"No. I just decided myself," I said.
"Good decision. So what are you up to?"
"Nothing. I just took a walk."
He nodded, glanced at his house and then at me. "I've seen you looking at the house before, you know." -
"Great. Have a nice day," I said and continued down the sidewalk. He quickly caught up.
"Take it easy," he said. "I wasn't complaining about it."
"I don't care if you were."
"Jeez."
"What?" I said, spinning on him.
"I heard you could be pretty nasty for no reason." "I'm not pretty nasty."
He laughed. "If you're not nasty now, I'd hate to see you when you are."
I stared at him a moment. "Okay," I said. "I'll admit it. So I have looked at your house before."
"It's only natural you'd be curious about the place. I was when we first bought it. You ever been inside?"
"No."
"Would you like to go inside?"
"What do you think?" I fired back at him. I imagined he was teasing me and having some fun that he would brag about later, but I didn't really care.
"I think yes. I have to warn you, though. It's nothing like it was when we first bought it. My mother redid it from top to bottom. She even changed the kitchen, ripped out counters, expanded it, put in new cabinets. We didn't move in for nearly eight months after we bought it."
I didn't know what to say. I did think anyone would have changed it. That was no surprise.
"There was nothing left in it that belonged to your mother and grandmother," he continued. "Don't think I didn't look in closets and cabinets."
"What did you expect to find?" I was going to add "dead bodies" but didn't.
"I don't know. Hey," he said, "we have something in common."
"And what would that be?"
"We both live in houses where a murder took place."
I didn't respond. He was right, if the legendary story about the Dorals was right.
"So?" I finally replied.
"So nothing. C'mon. I'll