The Twisted Window Read Online Free PDF Page A

setting. His backpack lay open on one of the two beds, displaying a tumbled assortment of T-shirts, socks, and underwear. His father's old hunting rifle stood propped against the wall in the corner of the room.
     
    Aside from the backpack, clothing, and gun, the only thing in the room that was his own was the photograph of Mindy that he had placed on the corner of the bureau. It was an inexpensive K Mart special, in which, clad in a sleeveless yellow sundress, she was incongruously posed in front of a painted backdrop of autumn foliage. The sun-bleached highlights in her pale hair emphasized her smooth midsummer tan, and her eyes were sparkling with laughter, as though the photographer had just finished telling her a marvelous joke.
     
    Brad stood for a moment, staring at the girl in the photograph. She was so lovely it made his heart ache to look at her.
     
    Gavin can't have you, baby, he told her silently. I'm going to get you back. Tracy Lloyd doesn't know it yet, but she's going to find you for me, and when I leave this place, you're going to be with me.
     
    He checked his watch. It was twenty minutes past five. He tried to imagine what Tracy was doing at that moment. Should he phone her now, he wondered, and invite her to go out with him? He could suggest a movie later that evening. After considering for a moment he decided it might be wiser to wait a little while longer before calling her. That would allow her a chance to recover from her fright in the park, and he could use the time to unwind a bit and take a shower.
     
    The bathroom in unit twenty-three was as uninviting as the bedroom. The walls and ceiling of the shower stall were speckled with mildew, and the water that emerged from the corroded shower head pattered on Brad's shoulders in an ineffectual drizzle. After spending what seemed an eternity trying to rinse soap scum from his body, he gave up the battle, dried himself off with a sour-smelling towel, and returned to the bedroom, where he stretched out on the bed to watch a rerun of M.A.S.H. He had no intention of falling asleep and was startled when he suddenly realized that the scenes flickering in front of his just opened eyes were from a National Geographic documentary.
     
    This time when he glanced at his watch he caught his breath in horror and snapped into a sitting position so quickly that his stomach muscles went into a spasm. Eight o'clock! Two full hours had passed since he lay down. There was no way that he could call a girl at this hour and ask her for a date for the very same evening. His only chance now of getting to see Tracy Lloyd would be to turn up on her doorstep and hope for the best.
     
    CHAPTER 4
     
    Tracy was not surprised to hear the doorbell ring at twenty minutes past eight. It was as though, subconsciously, she had been waiting for it all evening. While dutifully consuming the corned beef her aunt had served for dinner, while rinsing the plates and silverware and loading the dishwasher, while working a page of algebra problems and scanning a chapter in her world history book, her ears had been tuned for the sound of the doorbell or telephone.
     
    "I'll get it!" she called now to her aunt and uncle, who had taken root in the living room an hour earlier for their usual marathon round of postdinner television watching.
     
    She went out into the entrance hall and opened the door. As she had expected, Brad Johnson was standing there.
     
    "Hi," he said. "I've been told this is the house where all the action is. I thought I'd better come by and check out the rumor."
     
    "I think I've heard that line somewhere before," said Tracy.
     
    "You're right," Brad acknowledged easily. "It worked so well at lunch today I thought I'd try it again." He smiled at her. "Want to go get a hamburger at McDonald's?"
     
    "Thanks, but I've already eaten," Tracy told him. "Hours ago, in fact. My aunt serves dinner right on the dot of six."
     
    "Then maybe you've had enough time to get hungry