Don't Tell a Soul

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Don't Tell a Soul Page 7

by Kirsten Miller


  “What happened to you? Where have you been?” he asked, staring in horror at my snow-covered clothes.

  “I was just having a look around the grounds,” I told him. I didn’t know how he’d feel about my visit to the mausoleum, and I was eager to get upstairs to the rose room.

  I saw a flash of annoyance in my uncle’s eyes, but it vanished as quickly as lightning.

  “Go put on something dry. I can’t have you catching cold your first week in town.” Then he caught himself and laughed. “Wow, that was terrifying. I sounded just like my father. What I meant to say is that I’ve invited my business partner for breakfast. If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce you to him. Wear whatever you like—although, I suspect you’ll be much more comfortable if you’re dry.”

  “You have a business partner now?” I knew the answer was yes. What I couldn’t figure out was why.

  “After the catastrophe, I had to find a partner,” James said. “It’s going to take a fortune to repair all the damage.”

  “Shouldn’t your insurance cover the restorations, though?” I asked.

  The look James gave me let me know I was pushing it. “The insurance had temporarily lapsed when the fire took place,” he said.

  “Really?” I was genuinely surprised. Without insurance, a fire could have destroyed him financially. My mother always said James was irresponsible, but letting the insurance lapse was completely insane.

  James lifted an eyebrow. “Do you know who you sounded like just now?” he asked.

  “Sorry,” I said. That was enough to put an end to my questions. I was not going to turn into my mother.

  “The truth is, I wasn’t well when it happened, and I’d lost track of the payments.”

  “What was wrong with you?” I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask.

  “Please, Bram.” James shook his head in exasperation. “Go get dressed. Gavin is on his way. Do your old uncle a favor and make a good first impression.”

  As I bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time, I wondered who James wanted his partner to see. What kind of girl should greet our guest? Should her handshake be strong and confident—or limp and timid? Whoever met Gavin Turner at the door, I knew one thing for certain—it wouldn’t be me. In my experience, first impressions weren’t to be trusted. I’d learned the hard way that you never see the real human being the first time you meet someone. You’re lucky if you ever do.

  When I finally reached the second floor, the figure I’d seen on the balcony was long gone. I hurried down the hall, peeking into every room, but there was no sign of anyone. I started to worry that Sam might have been right. My mother had told me I couldn’t trust my own eyes. In my weakest moments, I’d almost believed her. Then I stepped into the rose room and felt a chill in the air. I walked to the French doors and saw the snow had been disturbed outside on the balcony. A small puddle had formed on the floor inside.

  I checked under the bed and in the closet to make sure there was no one still lurking in the room before I changed into a warm, dry outfit. When I heard a car pull up in front of the house, I peeked outside. A black Mercedes-Benz SUV had appeared in the drive below. I stepped back as the driver’s door opened, and a handsome man in his mid-forties emerged. His immaculate blue suit fit his tall, muscular form perfectly. Though his bald head gave him gravitas, he wasn’t that much older than my uncle. In fact, he was what James might have looked like if he’d stayed in Manhattan. I was sure my uncle had made the same observation.

  I was still watching the man when the front passenger door of the SUV opened and a much younger male stepped out. He had a full head of hair, but otherwise the resemblance to the older man was uncanny. There was no doubt they were father and son. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the younger of the two. He was dressed in the same long black coat and black glasses he’d been wearing outside the bakery. The top button of his coat was undone, and he hadn’t bothered with a scarf or hat. A pair of tall black boots appeared to be his only concession to the cold. I’m sure my jaw was still dangling when the guy’s head tilted back and his eyes met mine. He didn’t look anywhere else—just up at my window, as if he’d been expecting to see me there all along. When he smiled, I turned and walked away.

  I eavesdropped from the second floor as James chatted with the guests in the entrance hall. I gathered from the conversation that the son went to a famous prep school in Connecticut and was home for midwinter break. My uncle hadn’t been expecting a second guest. He sounded perfectly gracious, but I knew he was annoyed.

  “When will we be meeting this fascinating niece of yours?” James’s partner inquired.

  “Bram should be down shortly,” James told him.

  The other man lowered his voice. “It’s kind of you to take her in. Are you certain you’re up to the challenge so soon after the tragedy? Even the easiest teenagers can be difficult to handle.”

  “I don’t expect any trouble at all,” James assured him. “Bram’s been perfectly lovely since she arrived. I know I have a challenge ahead of me, but I think rescuing Bram from my sister’s toxic home has already done her a world of good.”

  “If anything goes wrong, it will fuel the rumors about the manor,” his partner pointed out.

  “And if everything goes well, it will prove them all wrong,” James replied tersely.

  I chose that moment to make my entrance, and their conversation paused as I walked down the stairs. All three of them turned to gaze up at me, and I felt like I was being presented in some creepy, old-fashioned ritual. All I was missing was the virginal white dress. It occurred to me then that grand stairways were designed for grand entrances like mine. How many times had Grace Louth in her fancy dresses been forced to put on the same show?

  “Gavin Turner, I’d like to introduce you to my niece, Bram Howland,” James said when I reached the first floor.

  I waited for the man to hold out his hand, and when he did, I shook it. I figured I might as well play along. “A pleasure to meet you, Bram,” said my uncle’s partner. “I’ve heard a great deal about you. But your uncle neglected to mention how lovely you are.” His gaze was so penetrating that I felt like I was being appraised on a cellular level.

  “How do you do?” I stared back—and didn’t look away until he was the first to blink.

  “This is my son, Nolan,” he said, and the younger man stepped forward. “I believe you’re both the same age. Nolan will be eighteen in June.”

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hello,” he replied, with the same smile he’d worn outside the bakery. He was very handsome, but I knew plenty of guys like him back at home. I’d discovered that those blessed with both looks and money were often stunted in ways that weren’t always obvious to the naked eye. Some lacked personalities or consciences. The rest were garden-variety assholes.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” said a voice. I turned to see Miriam standing in the entrance to the formal dining room. “Breakfast is ready downstairs in the kitchen.” Her voice sounded cold—almost icy—and she wore a servant’s stoic mask. It wasn’t the same Miriam who’d greeted me my first day.

  I was already dreading the meal with our guests, when Nolan spoke up.

  “Why don’t we let the old people talk business?” he said. “You and I can go grab a coffee in town.”

  “Nolan,” his father scolded. I couldn’t tell if he was truly angry. It all seemed a little rehearsed. “They’ve prepared breakfast for us here at the manor.”

  “What would you like to do?” Nolan asked, beaming at me as though my opinion were the only one that mattered. “Lady’s choice.”

  “I could use some more fresh air, I suppose.” And a chance to pick Nolan’s brain to see what he knew about the manor. But truth be told, I would have gone anywhere with anyone to get away from that breakfast.

  “The forecast is calling
for bitter cold,” James warned darkly. I could tell he didn’t want me to go.

  “She’d better get used to the cold if she’s going to live here,” Nolan replied with a laugh.

  “I’ll be fine.” While it was kind of amusing to see James playing the role of a father figure, before I’d arrived at the manor, I hadn’t gotten so much as a birthday card from him in years, and I wasn’t going to let him control me here.

  “Okay,” he relented. “Just be careful. Stay out of the woods.”

  “Let me grab my coat and boots,” I told Nolan and flashed my uncle a smile. I ran back up the stairs to my room and slipped on my winter wear. Into my left coat pocket went my phone and wallet. Into the right went my mini can of bear repellent and my trusty box cutter. After the incident with Sam, I wasn’t planning to trust anyone anymore.

  James and Gavin had vanished by the time I returned. Nolan stood alone under the chandelier in the entrance hall. Dressed in black and lit from above, he looked like a character in a play.

  “Thanks for getting me out of breakfast,” he said. “This is supposed to be my vacation, and my dad keeps dragging me to business meetings. I think he’s trying to bore me to death.”

  I forced myself to smile. “I’ll do my best to be entertaining.”

  “I don’t think you’ll need to try very hard,” Nolan said. “I’m already quite entertained.”

  He was flirting with me. I giggled the way I’d heard other girls giggle, while my fingers fiddled with the box cutter in my pocket. “Then let’s go.” I opened the front door and winced when a blast of cold air slammed into me.

  We strolled in silence until we were past the hedges.

  “So—how did your father end up working with James?” I asked, attempting casual conversation.

  “The way my dad tells it, James made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Plus, my dad has fond memories of the manor. He spent his summers and holidays in Louth when he was growing up. My family has owned our house by the river since my dad was a little boy.”

  “Does he like it here?” I asked. Gavin Turner hadn’t struck me as someone who would be a fan of country living.

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Nolan joked as we walked down the hill. “Have you made any new friends since you got to town?”

  “It’s only my second day here,” I replied, careful not to say too much. “And to be honest, most of the people I’ve met don’t seem much friendlier than that lady at the bakery.”

  Nolan laughed. “I’m not surprised. I’ve been coming up here my whole life, and they still treat me like I’m a serial killer who’s just waiting for a chance to murder them all and steal their children.”

  “You’ve been coming to Louth your whole life?” I asked.

  “My grandfather loved to sail on the Hudson. That’s why he bought a house in Louth. Our family’s summered here ever since.”

  “So you’re kind of a local,” I teased.

  Nolan laughed even harder. “As far as these people are concerned? Not even close. They used to tolerate us. But ever since my dad invested in your uncle’s inn, things have gotten pretty tense. The locals really don’t like the inn.”

  “Why?” I asked, truly confused now. “Isn’t it Louth’s main attraction?” Its only attraction, I could have added.

  “You’ve seen all the houses being renovated in town?” Nolan asked, and I nodded. “Those are all owned by city people now. The locals know the inn will bring even more outsiders to Louth, and some of those outsiders will want to stay. In a few years, the whole place is going to turn into an outpost of New York City. The locals realize their days are numbered. When the manor burned, I think a lot of people in town were secretly relieved. I bet half of them would have happily set the fire themselves. Then my dad swooped in to help James pay for the repairs, and suddenly the locals were right back where they’d started—on the verge of extinction. So don’t expect to get anything but a cold shoulder from the people of Louth.”

  I wasn’t in Louth to socialize, but it was still depressing to find out I was already hated here, too. I’d already been banished from my hometown. My so-called friends had shunned me. My mother couldn’t bear to be in my presence. My school had requested that I not return. I’d fled a city of eight million people, only to find myself trapped in a podunk town where everyone thought my family was out to destroy them.

  “Hey.” Nolan stopped me just before we reached the end of the manor’s drive. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m really sorry. Don’t worry about being all alone here in Louth. If you like, I’ll be your friend.”

  I almost laughed at his presumptuousness. “You don’t even live here,” I reminded him. “You’re only in Louth for midwinter break. After that, you’ll have to go back to school.”

  “Then I shall come to visit you every weekend,” he pronounced theatrically, his hand raised as though taking an oath. “As well as all national holidays.”

  I couldn’t help myself. It was hard not to like him. Inside my coat pocket, I let the box cutter slip from my fingers. It was a relief to let down my guard for a bit.

  “Seriously, though,” Nolan said as we resumed walking. “We’ll make your stay in Louth a thrilling, once-in-a-lifetime adventure.”

  The road curved and the town appeared below us. Cottony smoke rose from chimneys on snow-covered roofs. Framed by trees, it was a Christmas card scene.

  “Believe it or not, it’s been pretty exciting so far,” I said, keen to keep the conversation going.

  “Oh really?” Nolan replied. “Was there another escaped goat on the loose in town? That was the highlight of last winter.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I think there was an intruder in my house this morning. I saw her standing on the balcony of my room.”

  “Really?” He turned to look at me and seemed appropriately impressed. “What did she look like?”

  “I was on the other side of the grounds, and I couldn’t see her clearly, but it looked like a girl in a white dress.”

  Nolan whistled. “A white dress? Do you think it might have been the infamous Grace Louth?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Wearing the dress she drowned herself in,” he added in a spooky voice. “Now I’m jealous. My house doesn’t have any ghosts.”

  “Don’t get jealous,” I said. “There’s a chance it was all a mirage. I was with someone at the time. He insisted he didn’t see anyone.”

  “That’s weird,” Nolan agreed. “Who were you with?”

  “A guy named Sam Reinhart. He works for my uncle, and he was giving me a tour of the grounds.”

  “Ah, good old Sam. Clark Kent’s dull brother. Well, that explains why he didn’t see anything. Sam’s far too boring to see a ghost.” He smiled when I laughed. “It’s funny ’cause it’s true. Have you heard that Mr. Personality is the town hero? I think it’s some kind of football thing. He was the team quarterback, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “You know him?”

  Nolan looked at me with one eyebrow arched. “This is Louth. Everyone knows everyone here. That’s one reason why my dad recommended that your uncle hire outsiders after the fire. Instead James decided to employ one of the town’s biggest gossips and her son, the prom king. He said they were too cheap to refuse.”

  Nolan had to be exaggerating. I couldn’t imagine plain, practical Miriam Reinhart as a town gossip. But I didn’t bother to challenge him. I wanted to get back to the girl on the balcony.

  “Do you really think the manor might be haunted?” I asked just as we reached café JOE.

  “Honestly?” Nolan’s smile faded as he answered. “I have no idea. All I know is that the place is weird.”

  He pulled the café door open and held it, waiting for me to enter. I hesitated. A thousand new questions were suddenly bouncing around in my
brain. The first had made it all the way to the tip of my tongue when a familiar voice called out, “Nolan! Bram!”

  The barista with a man bun was waving to us from behind the espresso machine. I sighed and stepped inside the café. Nolan snickered. “I can tell you’ve met Jeb. Give me your order and go save yourself,” he whispered, coming to the rescue once again.

  I left Nolan standing at the counter chatting to the hipster barista while I navigated around the coffee bar to find a table out of sight. Occupying the seat I would have chosen was a girl in tortoiseshell sunglasses—Maisie. This time she was wearing an oversized camel-hair coat with its collar turned up and purple lipstick that made her lips look like fresh bruises.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “You’re with Nolan,” Maisie noted darkly. She held her teacup with both hands, and I saw that her nails had been painted to match her lips. “Things are worse than I thought.”

  “I just met him,” I said. “His father came to the manor for a business meeting. We walked down here for a cup of coffee.”

  “I told you this place wasn’t safe,” Maisie whispered. “Why didn’t you listen?” Then she sat back in her seat as though someone had just appeared behind me.

  “Hello, Maisie,” I heard Nolan say. “You’re up early.”

  “So are you,” Maisie hissed. “You usually don’t crawl out from under your rock until noon.”

  I looked back at Nolan and found him smiling. He handed me a cup of coffee. “You know what I love most about the country?” he asked me. “How people here mind their own business. What do you say, Bram? Shall we continue our walk?”

  I glanced down at Maisie. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I could feel her glare. I stuck my right hand into my pocket and ran my thumb over the box cutter’s handle. “Sure.” I followed Nolan back around the counter.

 

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