Secrets of Hallstead House (12 page)

I pocketed the key and continued up to my room. I left the papers Alex had given me in the desk, took some aspirin, and let myself out onto the balcony, where the sunshine and sparkling blue sky mocked my sour mood.

Slowly climbing the stairs to the turret, I could already see the bright light that would greet me when I got up there. I remembered thinking that I would never want to close the shades up there. I chuckled wryly. I couldn’t wait to get those shades drawn today. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and shut out the sun.

When I got up into the turret, I found a long-handled instrument that I could use to easily pull down the shades. I closed my eyes and tried to rest on the sofa, but not surprisingly, I could not sleep. My mind flitted rapidly from one image to another, all of them unwanted. I saw the picture of Diana that Alex had painted downstairs at Summerplace. Over it were superimposed the images of my parents, whose funerals had taken place so recently. I saw Alex, pacing slowly. I saw Diana swirling in water, fighting for her life. I saw Forrest, lying on the ground at the base of a staircase. I shuddered and my eyes jerked open.

Maybe painting would ease some of my disquiet. I stood up and found that my stomach was less queasy now and my headache was subsiding, but I wasn’t ready to face the daylight yet, so I turned on a lamp near the easel. I picked up a canvas out of the basket of blank ones and chose several dark oil paints. My painting would match my mood.

I skipped the sketching this time and just painted what my hands wanted to. Before long I had a rough outline. I didn’t recognize it as the leaning tree until I stood back to look at my work. But there it was, reaching out its limbs over the restless water. I thought again of the place that the tree had held in the lives of the family members at Summerplace. My family.

No. My family was from Connecticut. I had a wonderful mother and father who had given me a loving upbringing—an upbringing that I never would have traded for anything.

Why did Alex have to go and ruin everything?

I was lost in my own dejected thoughts when I thought I heard a very faint click. That noise was followed by a heavy scraping sound, then silence. I stood still for a moment, listening, but could hear nothing. I had begun to feel restless, so I decided to clean up my painting supplies and take another walk outside. When I had cleaned my work area and set my painting aside to dry, I went downstairs to let myself out onto the balcony.

The door was locked. I didn’t remember locking it behind me, but I must have. I tried the door to my room, but it also wouldn’t open. I reached into my pocket for the key, but it wasn’t there. An icy trickle of apprehension began to crawl up my spine. I must have left the key in the turret door when I went up earlier. Someone had found the key and locked me in! That must have been the clicking noise I had heard.

I ran back up into the turret and immediately raised all the shades. Nearly blinded by the sudden sunlight flooding into the room, I looked around for someone outdoors whose attention I could attract but saw no one. I tried opening the windows to yell outdoors, but they had been painted shut. Fuming, I sat down on the sofa and tried to relax, but I found that I was too angry. I got up every couple of minutes to check outdoors again for signs of people. No one was there.

Who had done this?

Could it have been Stephan? I didn’t think so. If anything, he wanted me to come downstairs sooner so that I could start patching things up with Alex. How about Will? This seemed like just the type of thing he would do in order to get me to leave Hallstead Island, which he had flatly told me was his goal. Vali or Leland? Maybe. Vali certainly wanted me gone too, and either she or Leland could easily have discovered that I’d left the key in the lock and used that knowledge to play a dirty trick like this.

After a little while, the events of the day, combined with my lack of sleep the night before and my raw emotions, got the better of me. I closed my eyes and was finally able to rest.

I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up the sun was dipping low in the sky. It took just a moment to remember.

Alex was my grandmother.

And I was locked in the turret.

I got up to look outdoors again, and this time I saw Pete walking below. I started banging on the window, and he slowed his pace and looked around. He hadn’t seen me, so I banged again, more loudly, and this time he looked up toward the turret. He waved at me and continued walking. I banged the window yet again, hoping I wouldn’t break the glass with all my pounding, and finally he stopped and looked up at me. I pointed to the balcony and turned an imaginary key in an exaggerated motion, hoping he would understand.

Either he understood or my skit piqued his curiosity, because he turned around and headed back toward Summerplace. I stayed at the window until I saw him emerge on the balcony, and then I ran down the turret steps and waited for him at the door. Seconds later the door swung open and I smiled at him in relief.

“Thank you so much!” I cried.

He looked at me with confusion. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been locked up here. That’s why I was banging on the glass to get your attention.”

“The key was in the lock. Why?”

I took a deep breath. “This has been a rotten day. I must not have been thinking and I left the key in the lock when I went up to the turret earlier.”

“But why didn’t you just go into your room?” he persisted.

“Because I couldn’t open that door, either,” I explained.

Pete looked at me incredulously. “What are you talking about?” he asked, exasperated. He leaned across me and tried the door to my room. The doorknob turned, but the door wouldn’t budge. He pushed harder but had no luck.

“That’s strange,” he said, half to himself. “Let’s go find out what the problem is.”

We went out onto the balcony and let ourselves into my room through the French doors. We both stopped and stared in surprise when we entered the room. The big old desk had been shoved in front of the turret door, blocking the entrance. Now I knew what had caused the scraping sound I had heard earlier. This was even creepier than having the turret door locked—someone had been in my room. I turned to Pete. I had thought about telling him about my day, but now I just wanted to be alone.

“Pete, thanks for rescuing me. If you don’t mind, I think I need some time by myself.”

He seemed to understand and looked at me with concern. “Let me know if you need anything,” he replied.

I nodded and turned back into my room. I would leave the desk where it was for now. I wandered into the bathroom and had a look at myself in the mirror. I looked pretty grim. I needed a shower and a change of clothes, since I had slept in the ones I was wearing.

Once I had showered and put on fresh clothes, I felt a little better. I certainly looked more presentable. I didn’t need to glance at my watch to know that it was almost time for dinner. I was starving. I hadn’t felt like eating at lunchtime, and all I had had for breakfast was a cup of coffee. Besides, a plan was formulating in my mind and I was looking forward to implementing it.

Stephan and Will were the only people in the dining room. Apparently Alex had decided to take dinner in her sitting room, and for that I could only feel a grateful relief.

Stephan pulled out my chair for me with a questioning look in his eyes, but I didn’t meet his gaze. I mumbled a word of thanks and ignored the conversation that continued between the two men.

Presently Vali arrived to serve dinner, which was a delicious salad followed by a pasta dish. I said little throughout the meal, and Stephan and Will talked between themselves. But as Vali came to serve dessert, I cleared my throat and asked a question.

“Would any of you happen to know who locked me in the turret room this afternoon?” My voice sounded loud to me. Will and Vali exchanged glances but said nothing. Stephan looked at me in disbelief.

“Macy, are you serious? Are you sure the door wasn’t just stuck?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Because not only was I locked in the turret, but a large piece of furniture was moved in front of the turret door in my room so I couldn’t get into my room that way, either. Does anyone know how that happened?” I repeated my question.

There was an uncomfortable silence while I looked around at the others. Vali glared at me and left the room. I wondered how long it would take her to tell Leland what I had said. Will shifted in his seat and carefully inspected his fingernails. Stephan looked at me sadly and finally spoke.

“Macy, I’m so sorry this has happened. It made an already rough day even worse.”

Will raised his eyebrows and shot Stephan a look of curiosity but wisely kept his mouth shut. I excused myself and left the room.

I don’t think I really expected to get an answer to my question. I merely wanted to show the culprit that I wasn’t going to cower in my room in fear because of this silly trick.

Since I had slept during the afternoon, I wasn’t tired yet. I stopped in the library for a new book to read, but before going upstairs I took a detour into the living room. It was quiet and dimly lit, and I stood before the painting of Forrest that I had so admired earlier. His eyes and his smile were gentle. I felt again the wish that I had known him when he was alive. My grandfather. Sighing, I turned away from the painting and went upstairs. I built myself a fire, curled up in my armchair, and read my book. Once or twice I felt a twinge of guilt over not having exercised with Alex all day, but I quickly brushed those feelings away. She couldn’t possibly expect me to spend any appreciable amount of time with her after her bombshell announcement. I wondered what I would say to her in the morning.

Eventually I got into bed, hoping for a rest uninterrupted by nightmares. I slept soundly all night; apparently my afternoon nap had not interfered greatly with my sleep schedule.

I awoke later than usual and had breakfast alone, bracing for my morning session with Alex. Vali came into the dining room once, took one look at me, and announced, “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” I shot back.

When I had fortified myself with eggs, toast, and juice, I went to Alex’s rooms.

I knocked softly on the door of the sitting room, but there was no answer, so I went through the sitting room and knocked on the bedroom door, not expecting Alex to answer this time either. When she didn’t, I continued through the bedroom and knocked a third time, on her office door. This time she answered.

“Come in.”

I pushed the door open tentatively and walked in. Alex was sitting behind her big desk, her hands folded in front of her. She looked exhausted. Forcing myself to remember that my relationship with Alex was first and foremost a professional one, I was determined to treat her as I would any other patient. I took a deep breath.

“Good morning, Alex. How are you feeling?”

She looked at me with a wan expression and waved one of her hands. “All right, I guess,” she answered.

“Do you feel strong enough to work on your exercises this morning?”

She nodded.

I led the way slowly into her sitting room, where we worked on her exercises for the next hour. She went through the motions of her exercise routine dully, and I did not encourage her to talk. If she wanted or expected a heart-to-heart, she was going to be disappointed today. Maybe the time would come when I would feel ready, but that would have to be on
my
schedule, not hers.

At the end of the hour, I suggested that she take a shower, but she declined. She went back to her office to work, and I went outside for a walk. I met Pete walking up to the house from the docks.

“What happened to you?” he asked me. I must have looked worse than I thought.

“You sound like Vali,” I retorted. He didn’t reply but waited for me to start talking. I didn’t know how to broach the subject of my problems, so I just launched into the short version of what had happened yesterday before he rescued me from the turret.

“Alex told me yesterday that Diana was my biological mother.”

Pete stopped short and looked at me in amazement. “You’re kidding,” he finally said.

Did I look like I was kidding? “Of course I’m not kidding,” I answered testily.

“You had no idea?” he asked.

“No. No, I didn’t. I once tried to find my biological parents, but I had no luck. I didn’t want my mom and dad to feel that I didn’t think they were good enough, so I stopped looking.”

“So where do you go from here?”

I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. It’s a little awkward between Alex and me right now.”

Pete nodded and waited for me to go on.

“I always thought that finding my biological family would be
my
decision!” I blurted out.

“Maybe you weren’t ready to find your biological family when you went looking. But maybe you’re ready now.”

His remark caught me off guard. I suppose I had been looking for sympathy, but his comment made me stop and think.

“Maybe,” I conceded. “Where are you headed?”

“I’ve got to go talk to Alex about one of the boats.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you later. Hang in there.” He smiled.

His smile warmed me and I walked away with spirits that had lifted just a little.

I ate lunch alone after my walk and then went looking for Alex again. She informed me that something important had just come up with her work and that she wouldn’t be able to walk this afternoon. Part of me was glad that she had canceled our usual afternoon activity, but part of me was a little anxious. She was not going to heal effectively if she skipped her exercises, and she hadn’t done any yesterday.

Now I had the afternoon to myself, and I decided to go up to the turret to paint. When I walked into my room to get to the balcony, I was surprised to see that a thin envelope had been pushed under the door. The letter was from New York City, from an administrator friend at my nursing agency. She had written to check in on me and see how things were going. If only she knew! Although it was technically against agency rules, she had written to tell me that another job had become available. If I was interested, she wrote, this would be a great opportunity for me. The patient was a well-known New York City matron who lived in posh surroundings in an old building on the Upper West Side. She needed nursing supervision only twice a day and I would be paid handsomely.