Secrets of Hallstead House

by Amy M. Reade

  I don’t remember how I got my feet to move. I needed to get as far away from Alex as I could. I was feeling sick to my stomach and my head was pounding like a jackhammer.

  I found myself sitting at the base of the leaning tree.

  The place where the ashes of my biological mother—and my grandfather—were scattered.

  I didn’t know what to feel. I had always known I was adopted as an infant. I had even tried looking for my biological family once, but I’d gotten nowhere.

  I’d never expected them to find me.

  So many emotions were reeling inside my head. I felt angry, confused, sad, and deceived. How could I have been duped like this? I sat dumbly staring at the water, at its ceaseless undulations, my overwhelmed thoughts taking no particular direction.

  What to do now? Go back to New York? Stick it out here until my job with Alex was completed? Should I go somewhere else? Where? I supposed I could move in with Simone. I had two elderly aunts in Connecticut, but I didn’t want to move in with them. There was no one else. No other family. I wished I could talk to my parents. My real parents, the ones I grew up with, Fred and Marianne Stoddard. Even talking to Alan would be better than bearing this alone.

  I don’t know how long I sat at the leaning tree before I looked up and saw Stephan standing beside me. Lost in my own gloomy thoughts, I hadn’t even heard him approach.

  “Can we talk a minute?” he asked quietly.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I think you know.”

  I swept my arm toward the ground, indicating that he was welcome to sit down. He looked around, picked out a large stone, and sat on it. He said nothing, and I merely waited for him to speak. I certainly didn’t intend to say anything.

  But he just sat there, looking at me. Finally, in spite of myself, I asked in exasperation, “Did Alex send you to look for me?”

  “No. She didn’t have to.”

  I stared at him in stony silence.

  “Macy,” he began, “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

  My expression remained unyielding.

  “I spoke to Alex shortly after she spoke to you this morning. She’s very upset.”

  “She’s upset?” I asked a little too hysterically.

  “Yes, she is. I suppose some of this is my fault. I mean, I am the one that facilitated this entire saga.”

  That got my attention. “What are you talking about?”

  “You can’t picture the . . . how shall I say this? . . . the unpleasantness around this place when Diana announced that she was pregnant. Alex and Forrest were devastated, as most parents would be. The histrionics and drama were constant and exhausting. From all three of them.

  “Diana had spent her young life longing for attention from her parents, and they had spent her young life trying to make up for all the time they had to spend away from her,” he continued. “It was a situation that was bound to explode at some point.

  “When she became pregnant, they sent her away. Far away. She went to stay with extended family in Nova Scotia, which is quite secluded and which they knew would be like a prison for her.”

  “So what happened when the baby—when I—was born?”

  “There was never any question that the baby would be given up for adoption. Diana certainly wasn’t mature enough to raise a baby, and—”

  “What about the father?” I interrupted.

  He waved his hand in the air in a gesture of dismissal. “No one ever even knew who he was. Including Diana.”

  “Go on,” I directed him.

  “As I was saying, Diana couldn’t have kept the baby. And Alex and Forrest had careers that prevented them from raising the child. Not only that, but they had social reasons for not keeping the baby. The fact that Diana had a baby as a young teenager would have been in all the social papers in New York, and the family had to keep up appearances. They had no choice but to send her away and hide her pregnancy.”

  I made a scoffing sound. “Keep up appearances?” I asked incredulously.

  “Things were different then, Macy. It was scandalous when a teenage girl became pregnant. It reflected badly on her parents. It’s still not exactly accepted, but it’s a lot more common.

  “Alex had a reputation to uphold. She represented, and still does, a successful international company. She didn’t need negative publicity. She didn’t need attention focused on her family.”

  “So I was given up because Alex had a reputation to keep.”

  Stephan sighed. “I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. But, Macy, please try to understand. Alex feels differently now. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I know she would keep the baby if she had to do it all over again. She’s an old woman, Macy. She’s trying to correct some of the mistakes she’s made during her long life.”

  “Too bad one of those mistakes was a human being.” I knew I was being petulant now, but I couldn’t help it.

  Stephan ignored my tone. “As Alex has gotten older she’s become less and less interested in what other people think. She’s come to realize the importance of having family. She took it for granted for too long, and now that both Diana and Forrest are gone, she has had to face the consequences of her decision not to raise Diana’s baby. She’s alone and she regrets that decision.”

  “It’s a little late for her regrets.”

  “I agree, but I’m not in her position. I think she was beginning to feel desperate.”

  “So why the elaborate plot to get me to come here under false pretenses? That wasn’t fair.”

  “Well, in Alex’s defense, I wouldn’t say they were false pretenses. She really did break her hip and she really did need a nurse.”

  “But why the big plot?” I demanded again.

  Stephan rubbed his chin and thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t necessarily agree with the method that Alex used to get you here, Macy. But while her intentions may have been selfish, they weren’t malicious. You’ll have to agree with that.” He waited for some sign of agreement from me, but I said nothing.

  “I wish I could make you understand how badly Alex needs to feel a connection with someone in her family. How badly she needs to feel a connection with Diana. She suffers a lot of guilt over not having been a more attentive mother to Diana. And now Forrest is gone too, so the rock she used to lean on is no longer there. Sure, she leans on me, but I’m just her friend. I’m not family.”

  “What about Will?” I asked.

  “Alex is fond of Will, but he’s not her son. You are Alex’s only living blood relative. Oh, Will is her nephew, but he is related on Forrest’s side. You are the bridge to Diana that no one else can be.”

  “How do you know so much about this?”

  “I know Alex. I’m her closest confidant and friend. I know that she wanted to tell you all these things herself, but I doubt you would have listened. Am I right?” He smiled for the first time.

  “Yes, I suppose you are right,” I acknowledged.

  “As I started to say earlier, I guess I’m partly responsible for this whole situation. You see, I’m the one who arranged your adoption by Fred and Marianne Stoddard.”

  “You knew them?”

  “No. But the attorney who set up the adoption for the Stoddards was a friend of mine, and I managed to stay in the background of the entire process. At the request of Alex and Forrest, I checked references and did a lot of digging of my own to find out all I could about the Stoddards. They were practically perfect, and Alex and Forrest wanted to be sure that you were going to a wonderful home.”

  He paused. “Over the years, I’ve kept tabs on you. The Stoddards never knew anything about it. Nor did Diana. But we knew when you graduated from high school and when you graduated from nursing school. And when your parents passed away. If you look through some of the papers that Alex gave you this morning, you’ll find some of the information we kept about you throughout your lifetime. Macy, when you think about it, yo
u had two families looking out for you. Alex has always loved you. Forrest did too. They’ve been very proud of you.”

  “So what’s next? Am I supposed to stay here?”

  “That’s entirely up to you. Alex obviously can’t make you stay, but I think she’d be thrilled if you did.”

  “But I don’t know what to say to her or how to act around her or anything.”

  “Well, you’re Alex’s nurse. I think that for now your primary role has to be one of caregiver. I don’t think she can expect more than that from you right now.”

  I nodded soundlessly.

  Stephan got up to leave. “I know this is a lot for you to digest. But take some time to think about the things I’ve said. I hope you’re able to forgive Alex for doing this to you.”

  He turned to leave, but I had one more question for him.

  “Stephan, who else knows about this?”

  “Just you and Alex and I. We’ve always been careful to keep the situation confidential.”

  After he left, I remained at the leaning tree for a little while longer, reflecting on his words. But eventually my headache became so bad that I needed to go back to my room to lie down. Quietly, so no one would know I was back in the house, I let myself in the front door. On the foyer floor near the door I found an envelope with my name scrawled across it in Alex’s spidery handwriting. I didn’t really want to open it, but my curiosity got the best of me and I opened it slowly. A short note and a key fell into my palm. Glancing at the note, I read Alex’s words:

  Macy,

  I thought you might like to have the key to your turret room. Please feel free to spend as much time up there as you wish. Alex

  I still needed to lie down. Maybe I could rest up there on the couch. Maybe nobody would find me if I went up there for a while.

  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.