Share No Secrets

by Carlene Thompson

  “She told me about Lottie coming to the restaurant.” Ellen let out a huge sigh. “I’m worried sick and I’m going to look for Lottie since the police aren’t doing anything.”

  “They are, Ellen.”

  “She’s still missing, isn’t she?” Ellen challenged. “They can’t be doing much. I’m sure I can find her. She’s around here somewhere. I can feel it. Perhaps she’s in the woods.”

  “You’re going to search the woods for her?”

  “Yes, of course. I grew up here at the hotel. I know these woods like the back of my hand.”

  The woman looked frail, hectic color burned high on her cheeks, and her rate of speech was faster than normal. She had no business tramping around the woods by herself.

  Resolutely, Adrienne wiped her brush clean. She was annoyed by the interruption, but she’d never forgive herself if she let the woman go off on her own and get hurt. And the sunlight could not last at this perfect slant for more than another ten minutes, anyway. At least she told herself these were the reasons she was abandoning her work. Deep down, she wasn’t sure Ellen wasn’t just providing her with a convenient excuse.

  “I’m ready for a break, Ellen. Mind if I go with you?”

  “I’d love for you to go with me as long as it’s to help me look for Lottie, not to look after me. I don’t need to be looked after. I’m much stronger than anyone has ever given me credit for.”

  Which was probably true, Adrienne thought. Ellen Kirkwood had been through enough shock and sadness in her life to break most people, but she soldiered on, acquiring a quirk here, a superstition there, but still prevailing.

  After making a quick call on her cell phone to police headquarters to tell them she was taking a walk up the hill with Ellen Kirkwood so the patrolman wouldn’t be alarmed when he made his usual half-hour check on her and found her gone, Adrienne tramped along beside Ellen as they started toward the hill beyond the hotel. “Did you know that the first time my mother walked me around these grounds,” Ellen said, gesturing at the graceful lawns of la Belle, “I screamed my head off and couldn’t be quieted? Even at three weeks old, I sensed something wrong about this place.”

  “Lots of babies cry steadily, Ellen. Skye did.”

  “I didn’t. Mama said I was a very good baby—quiet and docile when I was away from la Belle. For the first six months of my life, we lived with Mama’s parents. Then Father had a falling-out with Mama’s father, and my father had an apartment fixed for us on the third floor of la Belle.” Ellen shook her head. “Afterward, Father wouldn’t let Mama and me spend much time with her parents.”

  “I’m sure your father wanted you and your mother with him as much as possible,” Adrienne said carefully, sensing Ellen’s growing ire over an old problem.

  Ellen snorted. “Possessions. That’s all we were to Father. He wanted us here because he wanted people to believe Mama couldn’t bear to be away from him. She was quite the beauty, you know, and from a much higher social stratum than he was, although he had more money. But him being happy and satisfied with his wife was a myth. Father had a mistress.”

  Ellen’s stride picked up speed with her anger. Adrienne looked at the woods looming ahead. She wasn’t in the mood for a vigorous hike. She was also growing uncomfortable with Ellen’s personal disclosures. “She was beautiful if you like that bursting-with-health, flashy look,” Ellen spat out. “She was married to the family’s doctor. The man who’d delivered me. Apparently, the respectable life with a husband years older than she was bored her, though. She soon started hunting for entertainment and ended up breaking her husband’s heart and ruining my mother’s life.”

  The sun dimmed as they walked into a stand of maple and elm trees toward the south of the hotel, leading in the direction of Lottie’s cabin. A trio of sparrows bustled through the glossy maple leaves, chirping exuberantly. Ellen paid no attention to them. “But I suppose Kit has told you all about that scandal,” Ellen said almost accusingly.

  “No, she didn’t.” Adrienne sidestepped a cluster of poison ivy.

  “Well, since you’re being kind enough to help me look for Lottie, I’ll tell you the story.”

  “You don’t have to, Ellen, especially if it’s painful for you.”

  Ellen ignored her. “The affair had gone on for a couple of years before my father tired of her and wanted to end it. Everything came to a head during a New Year’s Eve party at la Belle. I was twelve. I’d sneaked into the party in the ballroom and saw Father talking to her. She began to make an awful scene and threw champagne in Father’s face. Father struggled to get her out of the ballroom quickly. My poor mother slunk out in embarrassment. My father put the woman in one of the rooms on the fourth floor. She was drunk and must have had a cache of pills with her—maybe morphine.

  “A couple of hours later, she jumped from the fourth-floor porch. She screamed all the way down, landed on the terrace, and split her skull on a stone urn.” Ellen paused, then added tonelessly, “I’ll never forget the sight of all that bright red blood on the snow while the music was still playing merrily away in the ballroom.”

  “My God, how awful!” Adrienne burst out, truly horrified. “You actually saw her?”

  “Oh yes. No one was paying much attention to me. Unfortunately, someone was watching my mother. Or claimed to be. A maid said she saw Mama coming out of that woman’s room just minutes after she jumped. Naturally, speculation followed. People said Mama had pushed her. There was a police investigation. It was terrible. Mama wasn’t strong to begin with and the investigation, the suspicion, and the scandal crushed her although she never stood trial. Still, she wasn’t the same afterward and just wasted away over the next three years. It was all Father’s fault I never forgave him.”

  Part of Adrienne was intrigued by the story of Ellen’s past Another part was repelled by the sordidness and tragedy. She didn’t want to hear more and decided to change the subject

  “You know Lottie better than anyone, Ellen. If she’s not hurt, why would she vanish at a time like this? She’s not even here to help plan Juli’s funeral.”

  Ellen looked troubled. “Of course she could be hurt, lying out in the woods, helpless.” Then she brightened. “But I don’t feel that’s what has happened. I think she’s hiding.”

  “Hiding? Why? Because she knows who killed Julianna and is afraid of being murdered to keep her silent?”

  “Lottie is far too brave for that kind of behavior. If she knew who killed Julianna, she’d immediately go to the police, consequences be damned. Lottie seems frail, but she’s incredibly strong. Always has been.” Ellen paused, her breath quickening. “Even as a young girl. What she went through here at la Belle …”

  They’d gone deeper into the woods now. Cicadas whirred in the trees, and sunlight stabbed only intermittently through a heavy canopy of leaves onto pads of moss on the ground. A squirrel darted in front of them and ran up a tree. Adrienne jumped, but Ellen seemed oblivious.

  “You do know what la Belle did to Lottie, don’t you?” Ellen asked.

  “I know something happened to her on the grounds when she was young. I don’t think even Juli knew the details.”

  “No, Lottie wouldn’t have dwelled on it. She rarely spoke of it even to me.” Ellen drew a deep breath as if she were already feeling winded by the climb up the hill in the growing midday heat. “I’d grown even closer to Lottie since my mother’s decline. Mama barely spoke and spent most of her time in bed, and my father traveled even more than usual.”

  “That’s sad,” Adrienne said, thinking how inadequate the words sounded.

  “Lottie’s mother had died years earlier, so we turned to each other for company. It was summer and she was almost always here. One night there was a dance. La Belle was full of people. Lottie and I didn’t have escorts—we were only fourteen—and after the dance she set off for the cabin alone. I should have sent someone with her to make sure she got home safely, but I was young and silly and thoughtless.”

 
Ellen went silent, carefully stepping over a cluster of vines in her beige canvas wedgies that were already hopelessly stained with grass and dirt The trees grew closer together here, and the sun seemed to have completely disappeared above the leaves. Even the air had cooled in the shadows.

  “When I went to the cabin around noon the next day, Lottie’s father said she’d never come home the night before. He said he thought she’d stayed at la Belle, not that he was the type to give her much thought at all. We began a search. She wasn’t found until evening.”

  Ellen swallowed hard and her voice quivered. “A man had grabbed her before she’d even gotten off the la Belle grounds. He’d knocked her out and dragged her into an old toolshed where he’d tied her up with rope and proceeded to rape and beat her all night. I know you’ve seen the scars on her temples. You should see the rest of her body. Even her wrists and ankles are scarred from the ropes he used to truss her up like a pig. And the repeated rapes were so brutal—” Ellen choked back a sob. “She was nearly dead.”

  Adrienne shivered. “I had no idea,” she barely whispered, her throat closing against tears. “Was the man caught?”

  “No. Lottie said she didn’t see his face. Everyone decided it must have been a vagrant. My father was particularly adamant about the theory of a vagrant.” Ellen paused, then said harshly, “Father was too adamant. There was a man staying at la Belle. A rich, prominent man I later learned was trailed by rumors of deviant behavior. The day after Lottie was found, I heard my father arguing with him. The man promptly left for Europe and never returned to la Belle. I’m sure he was the monster who brutalized Lottie and that my father shielded him. After all, Father couldn’t let it be known that a patron of la Belle was capable of such hideousness. Father ordered the toolshed razed, as if that showed how much he cared for Lottie’s plight. And that was the end of it Not even the police bothered to continue their investigation for more than a couple of days—as if poor Lottie didn’t matter.”

  Adrienne felt vaguely nauseated, partly by the thought of young Lottie bound and repeatedly raped, partly by the seemingly endless trek through the woods accompanied by Ellen’s tales of horror. Adrienne also found Ellen’s growing shortness of breath unsettling. She was glad she’d come along, even though she was certain the search was fruitless, but she was also worried. Ellen definitely didn’t look well. Adrienne unobtrusively tapped her pocket to make sure she had her cell phone to call 911 if Ellen actually collapsed.

  Lottie’s cabin finally came into view and Adrienne felt relief rush over her. “Thank goodness. I hope she’s inside,” she said.

  Ellen shook her head. “I wouldn’t count on it. The windows are closed and there are no clothes hanging on the line to dry. This is Lottie’s laundry day.”

  “But under the circumstances—”

  “If Lottie were home, she would have done her laundry. I know her better than you do, Adrienne.”

  “I can’t argue that point.” Ellen looked tired enough to drop and Adrienne said casually, “Do you want to look in the cabin even though you think Lottie isn’t there? We might find some sort of clue.”

  “You mean like the convenient note stating where she’s gone?” Ellen made a face. “Sorry to be sarcastic, dear. I’m a bit frayed at the seams these days. Yes, let’s go in. Maybe at least we’ll find some sign that she’s been in the cabin during the last couple of days.”

  But they didn’t. As they climbed the porch steps, an impressive collection of colored glass, delicate wood, and slender metal wind chimes tinkled in the slight breeze, but otherwise all was silent. Inside, the shabby cabin remained spotless, as if it had just been cleaned that morning, but it still had a feeling of having been unoccupied for perhaps days. “Doesn’t Lottie believe in locks?” Adrienne asked as the front door squeaked open on rusty hinges and they walked in. Ellen made a beeline for a cane-backed chair and plopped down, trying to hide her heavy breathing.

  “No, believe it or not after what happened to her when she was young. She’s been lucky, though. The place has never been robbed.”

  “I wish I could say the same.” Adrienne remained standing, looking at all the pictures of Julianna. “I wasn’t burglarized, but my house was invaded. So was my sister’s.”

  “I heard. I cannot believe someone would break into Philip Hamilton’s house with the whole family home. What was the point?”

  To terrorize me, Adrienne thought. To play Julianna’s favorite song on a boom box to let me know I’m in danger because of some photographs I took—photographs that showed nothing.

  “You have the oddest look on your face,” Ellen said. “Do you know something about the break-ins you’re not saying?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You and Kit lie equally badly.”

  “I wasn’t sure Lottie had a phone,” Adrienne said, ignoring the jibe as she touched the bulky, old-fashioned black telephone sitting on a table near the door.

  “She hates it and only has it because Juli insisted and paid for it.”

  “Are you sure it’s still working?”

  Ellen lifted the receiver, then held it out so Adrienne could hear the dial tone. “Alive and kicking.” Ellen stood up slowly, putting a hand on her lower back that must have begun to ache. “Which is more than I will be able to say for myself if I don’t get moving before I stiffen up.” She took a deep breath. “We aren’t going to find Lottie by sitting around here gabbing. I have a particular place in mind I want to check. It’s near the top of the hill. Are you up for a climb?”

  “I am, but I’m afraid you’re pushing yourself, Ellen. You aren’t used to this much exercise.”

  “Nonsense.” Ellen bristled. “I’m much stronger than I look.”

  I hope so, Adrienne thought, because you look like you could break as easily as a dry twig. “Onward and upward, then. But let’s take it slow.” Ellen shot her a simmering look. “Maybe the climb isn’t getting to you, but it is to me. My thighs are beginning to feel the strain.” Which wasn’t true, but Ellen looked slightly mollified.

  Ellen carefully shut the cabin door behind them although no locks protected the place from intruders. Adrienne tied back her shoulder-length hair with a piece of string she’d found at Lottie’s and enjoyed the touch of cool air on her neck. She glanced at Ellen, whose carefully set curls had begun to wilt. Thorns from a multiflora rose cluster had snagged her expensive silk blouse, and she was missing a clip-on earring. Still, she looked determined as she marched slightly ahead of Adrienne, physically proclaiming herself as leader of this expedition.

  “I wish you would stop looking at me like I’m going to fall into a dead heap any minute,” Ellen snapped. “It’s getting on my nerves.”

  “I didn’t mean to annoy you.”

  “I know. You’ve always been a very polite girl, Adrienne. Far less turbulent and headstrong than Kit.” Adrienne had no intention of responding to that comment. “I don’t look like it now, but I used to be quite athletic,” Ellen stated. “And I was a first-rate dancer.”

  “Really? Ballet?”

  Ellen laughed. “Good heavens, no! I danced to rock and roll. Real rock and roll, not that nonsense you were listening to earlier.” Her smile faded. “Jamie and I danced.”

  Adrienne thought of Ellen’s adopted four-year-old son who’d drowned in the pool at la Belle last summer. “Your little boy enjoyed dancing?”

  Ellen looked confused for a moment, then shook her head. “My cousin Jamie. We were cousins by marriage. He was three years older than I and the love of my life. He was unbelievably handsome. He had a smile that could stop your heart and more charm than anyone has a right to.”

  “No wonder you loved him.”

  “He was a senior at Princeton University but he came back home to celebrate his twenty-first birthday,” Ellen went on, seeming to speak more to herself than to Adrienne. “Father had arranged an elaborate party in la Belle’s ballroom. I wore a blue satin cocktail dress that Father said was too low cut, but Ja
mie said I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. I knew he was going to propose at the end of the evening. I’ve never been so happy in my life. Then, around midnight, we were dancing to “Love Me Tender” by Elvis Presley and Jamie froze. He got the strangest look in his eyes, grabbed his head with both of his hands, and fell down. People screamed and scattered. A doctor ran to us and kneeled over him. I just looked at Jamie, my darling, his body limp, his eyes empty, his smile gone forever.”

  Ellen swallowed and her voice turned hard. “They later determined he had a brain aneurysm that burst. They claimed he’d been doomed from birth, but I don’t believe it La Belle destroyed him, just like it did my little boy, my second Jamie.”

  Adrienne knew an I’m sorry would sound hollow, and Ellen seemed removed, as if she wouldn’t hear a thing Adrienne said anyway. No wonder the woman hated la Belle, Adrienne thought. She didn’t believe the hotel was responsible for Ellen’s tragedies. It was nothing more than a building. Still, the losses and the horror the woman had suffered at the hotel were staggering and certainly enough to make an impressionable nature like Ellen’s believe there was something evil about the place.

  “I went around in a daze for a year after Jamie’s death,” Ellen continued. “Then I married Kit’s father. He was a total rotter. Father bought him off after he’d gotten drunk and given me a beating when I was pregnant with Kit.” Ellen blinked rapidly as if warding off tears. “Then Father died and I devoted myself to my child and the hotel until I met Gavin.” She sighed. “Gavin reminded me of Jamie. Sometimes he still does.”

  Adrienne looked up at a hawk gliding serenely above them. Ellen had just explained so much. Her relationship with Kit, no doubt troubled because Kit was the child of a man Ellen probably hated. Why Ellen had married the seemingly aimless Gavin and allowed him to adopt Kit, thereby stripping the child of her brutal father’s name.

  By the time they reached the top of the hill, Adrienne was breathing hard but Ellen seemed to have gotten her second wind. Her stride quickened as they passed two cherry trees whose trunks supported mounds of honeysuckle vines. A sweet, almost overpowering scent hung in the hot, humid air. Then Adrienne heard a familiar sound. A caw. She looked up to see a crow sitting on a tree branch staring down at her with its beady, conscienceless eyes. The old rhyme, the one she’d thought of the day she’d found Julianna’s body, came back to her: