The Silver Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

scraping and sliding of bolts, and the door opened. A man appeared holding a shotgun across his chest. He had rumpled graying hair, his hazel eyes were bloodshot, and
he was wearing only a bathrobe and a pair of argyle socks.
    “Get off my property,” he said.
    “Uncle Tinsley?” Liz asked.
    “Who are you?”
    “It’s me. Liz.”
    He stared at her
    “Your niece.”
    “And I’m Bean. Or Jean.”
    “We’re Charlotte’s daughters,” Liz said.
    “Charlotte’s girls?” He stared at us. “Jesus Christ. What are you doing here?”
    “We came for a visit,” I said.
    “Where’s Charlotte?”
    “We’re not exactly sure,” Liz said. She took a deep breath and started explaining how Mom had needed some time to herself and we were fine on our own until the police got
snoopy. “So we decided to come visit you.”
    “You decided to come all the way from California to visit me?”
    “That’s right,” Liz said.
    “And I’m supposed to just take you in?”
    “It’s a visit,” I said.
    “You can’t simply show up here out of the blue.” He wasn’t expecting guests, he went on. The housekeeper hadn’t been around in a while. He was in the midst of
several important projects and had papers and research material spread throughout the house that couldn’t be disturbed. “I can’t just let you all in here,” he said.
    “We don’t mind a mess,” I said. “We’re used to messes.” I tried to peer behind Uncle Tinsley into the house, but he blocked the doorway.
    “Where’s Aunt Martha?” Liz asked.
    Uncle Tinsley ignored the question. “It’s not that it’s a mess,” he said to me. “It’s all highly organized, and it can’t be disturbed.”
    “Well, what are we supposed to do?” Liz asked.
    Uncle Tinsley looked at the two of us for a long moment, then leaned the shotgun against the wall. “You can sleep in the barn.”
    Uncle Tinsley led us along a brick path that ran beneath towering trees with peeling white bark. It was twilight by then. Fireflies floated upward like little points of light
in the tall grass.
    “Charlotte needed time by herself, so she just took off?” Uncle Tinsley asked.
    “More or less,” Liz said.
    “She’s going to come back,” I said. “She wrote us a letter.”
    “So this is another one of Charlotte’s debacles?” Uncle Tinsley shook his head in disgust. “Charlotte,” he muttered. His sister was nothing but trouble, he went on.
She was spoiled as a girl, a pampered little princess, and by the time she had grown up, she expected to get whatever she wanted. Not only that, whatever you did for her, it wasn’t enough.
Give her money and she thought she deserved more. Try to set up a job for her and the work was beneath her. Then, when her life got difficult, she blamed Mother and Father for everything that went
wrong.
    Uncle Tinsley was being pretty harsh about Mom, and I felt the urge to defend her, but this didn’t seem like a good time to start arguing with him. Liz seemed to feel the same way, because
she didn’t say anything, either.
    The barn, which stood at the end of the tree line, was huge, with peeling white paint and a green metal roof, just like the house. Inside, on a floor made of brick laid in a zigzag pattern, was
a black carriage with gilt trim. Next to it was a station wagon with real wooden sides.
    Uncle Tinsley led us through a room with dusty saddles and bridles and all these faded horse-show ribbons hanging on the walls, then up a narrow flight of stairs. At the top, there was this neat
little room that I didn’t expect at all, with a bed and table, a kitchenette, and a woodburning stove.
    “This used to be the groom’s quarters,” Uncle Tinsley said. “Back in the day.”
    “Where is Aunt Martha?” Liz asked again.
    “Charlotte didn’t tell you?” Uncle Tinsley went over to the window and gazed at the fading light. “Martha passed away,” he said. “Six years ago this
September. Trucker ran a red