The Ghost and The Haunted Mansion Read Online Free PDF

the Finches’ Queen Anne. It wasn’t that the Todd mansion was in disrepair. The place was in good enough shape—although the overgrown grounds didn’t appear to be feeling the love from anyone. No, it was the overall impression of Miss Todd’s house that made me uneasy.
    The Finches’ Queen Anne began its welcoming impression with a wide, wooden wraparound porch. The colorful flower boxes, stained-glass front door, and romantic corner turret all extended the feeling of warmth and whimsy.
    By contrast, Miss Todd’s Victorian was a severe box of cold gray stone. There were four floors total: a high attic with dormer windows just under the mansard roof; a second and third story with wrought-iron railed balconies; and a grand first floor. The windows of the main floors were tall and narrow, their stone arches overhanging the stingy plates of glass like an old man’s disapproving eyebrows.
    The entire place appeared to be designed with off-putting pretension. Take the cupola crowning the roof. I usually liked cupolas. The doming tops of cathedrals always reminded me of the top tier of a wedding cake. But the trapezoidal shape of the cupola on the roof of this Victorian was an Addams Family fright.
    The worst detail was the decorative wrought iron, spiking out of the roof’s upper cornices like a punk rocker’s overgelled hair. Almost as bad, in my opinion, was the porch.
    The Finches’ wraparound veranda was as wide and open as a grandmother’s arms. The narrow deck of stone on the Todd mansion appeared to be demanding references. A pair of Ionic stone columns felt intimidating, and the triangular gable that sat above them completed the sort of formal, Greek Revival style one usually saw in government buildings. The effect was chilly and forbidding, a theme echoed in the rusting, eight-foot fence built around the perimeter of the large property.
    Miss Todd’s was the oldest house on Larchmont. Its grounds were also the largest since it was built well away from the rest of the neighborhood, the last home in the development. Larchmont Avenue kept going after Miss Todd’s place, wending its way down, down, down, the countryside, through a densely wooded area until it finally turned into Mill Run Road, and connected to a large highway, which led to Millstone, the next town over.
    As we approached Miss Todd’s drive, I took a closer look at the wrought-iron fencing around the property. The design in the fence always caught my eye—not because I liked it. The motif was one I’d never seen before or since: a continuous pattern of five-pointed stars, each with a fleur-de-lis in the center.
    “You know, I’ve seen pentagrams before—especially in our occult book section. But I never saw one with a fleur-de-lis at its center. This is the only place I’ve ever seen that design.”
    Oh, yeah? Well, I’ve seen it before.
    “You have? Where?”
    It’s a long story, honey. Ask me when you have time to listen.
    Jack was right. I had books to deliver and errands to run, and I was already turning my car through the gated entrance to Miss Todd’s mansion. The heavy iron doors were open wide, and I suspected they’d rusted in place. My car’s tires bumped and rumbled up the cobblestones. I cut the engine and climbed out.
    The wind was still strong, but it was a hot wind, offering little relief from the warm day. I redid my ponytail, securing the flyaway auburn strands. That was when I noticed the double doors at the front of the house standing wide open.
    “I guess Timothea is expecting me.”
    Even as I said it, I found the sight of the open doors disturbing. But it was Jack who gave voice to my buried suspicions.
    Something’s wrong, dollface. A dame who’s got a phobia about going outside isn’t about to leave her front doors like that.
    Deep inside I knew Jack was right. But a more shallow part of me wasn’t in the mood to foresee gloom ahead.
    “Maybe the house just got stuffy!” I chirped, electing to believe