The Twisted Window Read Online Free PDF

again," Brad said. "If not, come along for the ride and to keep me company. Order a Coke or something. Take pity on a lonely newcomer. After all, you're the only person I know in Winfield."
     
    "You know Gina," Tracy reminded him.
     
    "If I'd wanted to buy Gina a hamburger, I would have called her. I do know she's 'the only Scarpelli in the phone book.'" His smile broadened, as though the two of them were sharing a private joke. "I'm afraid Gina's not my type."
     
    "And you think I am?"
     
    "I think you might be. I'd like a chance to find out."
     
    "Has it occurred to you that you might not be my type?" Tracy's voice was cool, and she did not return the smile.
     
    "I don't get it," Brad said, looking puzzled. "You said I could call you. I thought that meant you wouldn't mind going out with me."
     
    "Tracy?" Aunt Rene called from the adjoining room. "If that's the boy collecting for the paper, tell him I mailed his check yesterday."
     
    "It's not the paperboy," Tracy called back to her. "It's somebody from school."
     
    "Then invite her in. There's no sense holding a long conversation in the doorway."
     
    There was a moment of silence, during which Tracy could picture her plump aunt struggling to hoist herself out of the easy chair that was her designated evening nesting place. Then, the feat having been accomplished, she came bustling out into the entrance hall.
     
    "Why, hello!" she exclaimed, obviously surprised to discover her niece's caller was a boy. "I'm Mrs. Stevenson, Tracy's aunt."
     
    "Nice to meet you," Brad responded politely. "I'm Brad Johnson. I stopped by to see if I could talk Tracy into going out for a Coke."
     
    "That doesn't seem such a good idea on a school night," said Aunt Rene. "Young people need their sleep if they're going to be alert in class."
     
    "But it's only eight thirty!" Tracy protested. "You can't expect me to go to bed at that hour!"
     
    "This close to the end of the school year, you must have homework," her aunt said. "Finals are coming up soon. Shouldn't you be studying?"
     
    "I've finished my homework, and we don't have finals for a month yet." Tracy knew even as she spoke that what she was doing was ridiculous. Her aunt had provided her with the excuse she needed, and she should have been taking advantage of it. It would be nothing short of lunacy to go out alone with this stranger who, she had come to suspect, might not even be named Brad Johnson.
     
    Despite that, she heard herself speaking up defiantly. "Actually, a Coke would taste pretty good right now. That meat we had for dinner tonight made me thirsty."
     
    "Tracy, dear, I really don't know about this," said Aunt Rene. "Maybe we ought to see what Uncle Gory thinks."
     
    Tracy turned to face her aunt, disconcerted as always by the distorted resemblance to her mother. Even after seven months of living in the Stevensons' home, she still had not become fully adjusted to seeing Danielle Lloyd's small, neat features and expressive eyes in the alien setting of Irene Stevenson's fleshy face.
     
    "We're going to get a Coke," Tracy stated firmly. "We won't be long. We're just going over to McDonald's."
     
    Without giving her aunt a chance to voice further objections, she stepped through the open doorway into the sweet spring evening.
     
    "I'll have her home in an hour, Mrs. Stevenson," said Brad.
     
    "Well, see that you do." Aunt Rene regarded them helplessly. "Have her back by nine thirty at the latest, and be sure to drive carefully!"
     
    Brad's light blue Chevrolet Impala was parked in front of the house. He started to lead the way to it and then slowed his pace when he realized Tracy was not following along behind him.
     
    "Is something the matter?" he asked, turning back to face her.
     
    "I want to walk," Tracy said.
     
    "Walk?" Brad stared at her in disbelief. "You want to walk all the way to McDonald's over on Eighth Street?"
     
    "We don't need to go to McDonald's," Tracy told him. "I don't really want a