The Fallen Parler: Part One (A supernatural mystery thriller) Read Online Free PDF

bottom bed, accepting defeat.
    ‘I can do this,’ muttered Charlotte. Improvising to the best of her ability, Charlotte plugged her scented candles and juggled furniture about the room. Before long, the droning bedroom had gained some personality; it needed more work but Charlotte was not fazed. Luchia checked in on them every ten minutes and offered to help unpack each time. On each occasion, the housekeeper’s offer was declined.
‘What do you think of … Luchia?’ asked Junior, when the coast was clear.
‘She’s awfully picky, but I suppose she’s alright.’
‘I’ve never heard such a deep voice on a woman!’ sniggered Junior.
‘Junior!’ exclaimed Charlotte, chuckling under her breath.
‘Vat iz it?’ he answered, impersonating Luchia’s thick European accent. Junior’s mimicry of Luchia would not have been as funny if he did not proceed to parody Luchia’s signature posture (crossed arms and tapping heels). Charlotte chuckled loudly.
    ‘You sound more like Dracula,’ she snorted, tossing a fluffy pillow at her brother’s face. ‘That’ll shut you up.’
Junior caught the cushion in mid-air. Lately, his reflexes had been finely tuned. H e replayed the moment that he’d bolted into the train tracks and saved young Maddie Brown, all in what seemed like less than a second. Strange.
    The next time Luchia appeared at the doorway, she had a frothy edge to her voice. ‘Zere is someone who wants to meet you.’
The housekeeper turned brusquely and motioned the twins toward the hallway; they followed her down the steep wooden stairway. They were going to meet Dr. Willow, the man whom they’d heard little of, and knew less about. Charlotte could feel her heart bursting forth from her chest each time the floorboard creaked. Junior, who was rarely ever anxious, had even more unanswered questions. Would Dr. Willow like them? Would he care about them at all? What if he just didn’t like the look of them, would he send them packing? Thoughts ran rampant. Junior found solace in the idea of Dr. Willow disliking them instantly and sending them packing. If that were to happen, Peter and Sonia would be obliged to take them in. The visit to Shorebridge would be nothing more than a mini vacation.
A tall figure barred the doorway. The moonlight stroked his silhouette with such slightness that only a mild shadow was cast into the foyer. He had his back to his guests, and was peering into his beautiful front lawn. The doctor seemed to sense that his guests were approaching him, but left it until they were two small steps away before he turned on his heels. He was a man of large-build. A man who, like Junior, had strong individual features which, when placed alongside each other, appeared unusually gentle. He modelled a pair of round, obsolete spectacles which glossed as the light bounced from them. The doctor sported a fitting russet suit and ornate footwear. For a split second, Dr. Willow appeared to smile at his guests. Very quickly, this affable front ceased; the doctor’s blasé countenance was soon filled with pain. He turned from the twins and gestured Luchia away with two fingers.
In a quiet, airy voice, Dr. Willow murmured, ‘Mister Roterbee, Miss Roterbee…I hope you have made yourselves at home.’
‘Yes we have,’ blurted Charlotte, ‘your home is very beautiful.’
‘Thank you,’ said the doctor, evading the young woman’s eyes. Turning to Junior, the doctor muttered, ‘I should count myself lucky to be hosting Shorbridge’s newest male protagonist.’
‘And who would that be?’ replied Junior.
‘You of course,’ chortled Dr. Willow. ‘I received four detailed reports today, of how a local young fella rescued a child from being mowed over by a train. It was not until I ran into Mr. Brown that I discovered the young girl was his little one…and the brave hero was one of my own guests.’
‘Oh that…that was nothing, really,’ shrugged Junior.
‘Really!’ ejaculated Dr. Willow, ‘because