Winterborne Home for Vengeance and Valor

by Ally Carter

  April thought about the woman upstairs and the man on the floor, but it felt like an ocean still stood between them. Well, two stories, several tons of stone, a very dusty passageway, five kids, and one really big secret.

  “I get where you’re coming from—I really do,” Sadie said. “But I also don’t want to go upstairs in a day or two and tell her he’s dead, but—don’t worry—he’s also super sorry about it. Do you want to tell her that?”

  “No. But—”

  “She’s hiding something,” Colin filled in.

  Sadie looked at him like he was crazy. “This is Ms. Nelson! We know her. We know—”

  “She has secrets. Don’t give me that look, Sade. Everyone has secrets.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Like what?” Sadie crossed her arms.

  “Like this.”

  April hadn’t really meant to steal the notebook. She’d only thought about borrowing it. Maybe taking a glimpse. Maybe a peek. Maybe . . .

  “How’d you get that?” Sadie asked.

  April shrugged. “It was in the library. We’re allowed to take books out of the library, right?”

  The rule absolutely, positively didn’t mean they could take Ms. Nelson’s personal journal without her permission, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  She saw Violet and Tim enter the room, and Tim froze at the sight.

  “Is that . . .”

  “Ms. Nelson’s planner? Yes.” Colin was already reaching for it.

  “We shouldn’t have that,” Sadie said.

  “You saw her slide it out of sight.” Colin opened up the book. “Don’t you want to know what she’s hiding from ol’ Evert? Because I, for one . . . Hey! I was looking at . . .”

  But Colin trailed off when, suddenly, the book was in Sadie’s hands and Sadie’s hands were starting to shake.

  “That’s my mom and dad.” Sadie looked down at a newspaper article pasted on the very first page. WINTERBORNE DEVELOPERS DIE IN FATAL COLLISION. “Why does she have an article about my mom and dad?”

  “I don’t know,” April said.

  Colin took the book back and started flipping through the pages. There were handwritten notes that didn’t make any sense—maps with points circled and long lists of places and dates. It was like the scrapbooks Smithers kept in the library. But different. The book bulged with newspaper clippings from all over the world—in languages April couldn’t read.

  There were questions and charts and two whole pages covered with just four words: Where are you, Gabriel?

  “She’s been looking for him,” Colin said as he ran a finger over the pages. Then he stopped flipping as Tim touched a page and stared down at the headline CONVICTED FELON WASHES ASHORE, FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.

  “Tim?” April asked, because he was staring down at a mug shot on the page. “Are you okay?”

  “That’s my dad.” His voice sounded too small in the big room. “So I guess he’s dead now. That’s good to know.”

  He walked away like he didn’t want to touch the book anymore, and April looked down at the clipping that was already turning yellow with age. There was no date, but it had obviously been there long before Tim came to Winterborne House—long before Ms. Nelson oh so casually asked him to tag along with Violet.

  “See?” Colin cocked an eyebrow at Sadie. “Secrets.”

  When he started thumbing through the book again, something fell out. No. Some things, April realized as she looked down at a floor littered with pretty pictures of faraway places.

  “Are those postcards?” Sadie asked as April picked them up, then turned them over and over in her hands, knowing they must matter.

  Athens. Oslo. Tokyo. Dubai. Egypt. Norway. Dubai.

  She read them once. Then twice. They were blank on the back—nothing but the address to Winterborne House and their postmarks.

  “Athens. Oslo. Tokyo. Dubai. Egypt. Norway. Dubai,” Sadie rattled off as April laid the postcards out one by one.

  “Why have both Oslo and Norway?” Sadie asked.

  “And why are there two from Dubai?” April said the only thing that stood out to her. “It’s the exact same postcard but they were sent months apart. Why . . .”

  It was Violet who finally said, “Put them in order,” then took the cards and rearranged them according to the dates on the postmarks, fanning them out until only the first letter of each card was visible—the message as clear as day.

  NOT DEAD.

  “What can I say?” a deep, gravelly voice said from behind them. “I always did like puzzles.”

  27

  Dead Men Do Tell Tales

  Gabriel Winterborne was still alive, but he looked half dead as he leaned against the cellar wall. He wore a blanket around his shoulders and held it tight, as if he could keep his scars and tattoos hidden from the kids who had already seen and heard too much.

  “Hello, April.” His voice was deeper, rougher, but his eyes held a mixture of disappointment and wry amusement—like he didn’t know whether he should be happy or sad to have . . . you know . . . not died. Which was the most Gabriel Winterborne-y thing that April had ever seen.

  “I suppose you don’t understand the meaning of the words don’t tell anyone.”

  “You were dying,” she said. “And besides, you’re heavy.”

  Sadie studied Mr. Winterborne, probably trying to guess what his temperature and blood pressure might be. Colin looked like it was a pity they didn’t have popcorn. But Tim was the one who looked like April felt: like he knew a conscious Gabriel Winterborne might be scarier than the man on the pallet any day. So he pulled Violet closer. And waited.

  “Mr. Winterborne.” Sadie inched forward, deadly serious. “I’m Sadie—”

  “I know,” he snapped. “You’re Dr. Simmons’s daughter.” He looked at Colin. “And you’re the con artist’s kid. And you . . .” He trailed off when he looked at Tim. “You’re the son of the man who tried to kill me.” Mr. Winterborne finished with a shrug. “Or one of them.”

  “Did you kill him?” Tim asked.

  Slowly, Gabriel shook his head. “Wrong Winterborne. If you haven’t learned by now, Uncle Evert doesn’t leave loose ends.”

  April gulped and thought about the shady men she’d seen doing shady things on the dark dock. She remembered the way Evert had looked at her after—like she was a mess he’d have to clean up eventually. But that was Future April’s problem. Present April had a half-dead billionaire and a roommate who wasn’t bouncing anymore.

  “Mr. Winterborne?” Sadie’s voice wasn’t as strong as it usually was. “There were some other articles . . . about . . .”

  “I’m sorry, Sadie. Your mother and father were brilliant people. They didn’t deserve to die. But neither do most of the people who die in my place.”

  “No. See . . . they had an accident.” Her voice cracked as she pleaded, “It was an accident. Wasn’t it?”

  But Gabriel was shaking his head. “I can’t be sure. I was gone by then, but . . . your dad designed the ship. Did you know?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Publicly, Evert blamed your father. Ruined his career—labeled him ‘the man whose negligence killed the Winterbornes.’ But of course, privately, we all knew why the boat sank.”

  “Why did it sink?” Colin asked, and Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

  “Because bombs and boats don’t mix.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Sadie said, and April couldn’t blame her. Sadie’s was a world of science. Where equations always balanced and actions had equal and opposite reactions. “If there was a bomb, my dad would have proven it. There would have been investigations. It would—”

  “Oh. I wish we’d thought of that,” Gabriel said dryly. “But I seem to remember the evidence being at the bottom of the ocean and people not being willing to take the word of a ten-year-old boy, a disgraced engineer, and a butler.”

  Then the work of standing upright seemed too much for him
and he staggered to the table and downed a bottle of water in one long gulp. He looked frail and weak, and April couldn’t help but think about the tattoos and the woman right upstairs.

  “Do you want me to go get Ms. Nelson? Or Smithers?”

  “No!” he snapped, then leaned against the table. “The element of surprise is all I have, and I won’t let you take it away from me.”

  “Evert’s trying to have you declared dead,” April said.

  Gabriel huffed. “Good. Maybe then he’ll stop trying to kill me.”

  “But you’re alive,” April said.

  “Doesn’t feel like it.”

  “But if you tell people you’re back, then—”

  “Who are you going to tell, little girl?” Gabriel snapped. “Who is going to listen to a handful of orphans and a dead man?”

  “Well,” Sadie said in her most scientific voice, “when the man in question is demonstrably not dead, it would be—”

  “Do you think I haven’t tried?” Gabriel’s words echoed around the room.

  “When I was ten, I washed up on the shore. When I was twelve, I started having accidents. Luckily, my parents’ will gave Smithers custody. He brought on Izzy’s father to lead my security detail, and I was safe. For a while. But I was the only thing standing between my uncle and the Winterborne legacy, as he liked to call it. I was rich and famous and privileged beyond compare, and no one beyond this house believed a word I said. But go on. Be my guest.”

  He poured water on a rag and wiped his face. “Maybe they’ll listen to you. They never listened to me.”

  He turned back to them, finished with his lecture. But the story wasn’t over, of that much April was sure.

  “Mr. Winterborne?”

  “Don’t call me that!” Gabriel shouted, then seemed to feel badly about it. “He’s Mr. Winterborne. Not me. Never me.”

  “Okay. Um . . . Gabriel? What happened when you were twenty-one?”

  “My uncle tried to kill me.” He raised an eyebrow, then gave a quick, cold laugh. “Again.”

  “You might as well just tell the whole story, you know? They won’t leave till they hear it,” Tim said, and Gabriel looked at him like he might be the only one of them who had any sense, and then he started to talk.

  “On my twenty-first birthday, I was going to come into my inheritance—take over the business. Become a man.” He huffed, then winced in pain from the effort. “But I was still a boy, really. Arrogant. I told my security I didn’t need them anymore. I said I was the head of Winterborne Industries now, and I didn’t need a babysitter. Izzy . . . Izzy told me I was stupid—that something bad was going to happen, and I’d deserve it. She was right.

  “I didn’t see your father.” He looked at Tim. “Not at first. He hit me on the back of the head and knocked me to the ground. Then he took my wallet and my father’s watch. It had been in the shop when the ship sank, so I had it. I always wore it. For a second, I actually thought that maybe it really was just a robbery. But then he had a gun, and . . .

  “It didn’t hurt at first. Because of the adrenaline, I guess. I fell into the water and stayed under. Swam as far as I could. When I came up for air, I heard shouting and sirens, and I knew he was probably gone. But I also knew he’d come back.” He leveled April with a glare. “Him or others just like him. They would keep coming back.”

  For a long time, April and the others stayed silent—unwilling or just unable to break the spell, waiting for Gabriel to finish. “I managed to climb aboard one of the ships, and then I just . . . went away.”

  “Just like that?” Colin sounded doubtful. “You. Gabriel Winterborne. Just floated off into the sunset? Just like that?” Colin snapped his fingers, and Gabriel shrugged.

  “Izzy and I used to joke about it—what if we ran away? What if we moved to the other side of the world? What if . . . I don’t think she really thought I’d do it. Not without her. But Evert would have kept trying until I was dead. Until everyone I loved was dead. So I decided to just be dead.” He took a ragged breath, and April knew that the question was no longer why he’d run. The question was . . .

  “What do we do now?” Sadie said.

  Gabriel looked like he would have laughed if he’d had the energy. “We?”

  “Yeah. You need us!” Colin said. “We’re . . . you know . . . not dead.”

  “You will be if you don’t leave me alone,” Gabriel said, and April knew words wouldn’t convince him. There were no facts, no figures, that could have possibly changed his mind.

  So April punched him in the shoulder.

  “Ow!”

  He recoiled even though she hadn’t even punched him very hard. Really, Violet hit way harder in her sleep.

  “What was that for?” he cried.

  “To show that you need us. You might as well go ahead and let us help. We’re precocious.”

  “I have other words for you,” Gabriel grumbled, but he looked around at them, the children who had saved his life. “Go to bed. All of you.” He stumbled to the pallet and dropped to his knees. “I’m sure I’ll see you in the morning.”

  * * *

  April couldn’t sleep. She didn’t even try. She just lay in her big, soft bed, staring up at the Winterborne crest woven into the canopy overhead, thinking about long-lost billionaires and murderous uncles. She’d spent her whole life wondering who her family might be, but now she wondered if maybe families might be overrated. At least if they didn’t know you, they couldn’t try to kill you. That had to be a good thing, right?

  Then, for about the nine billionth time, April reached for her key and came up empty-handed. The wind howled outside, and she wondered if Gabriel was warm enough down in the cellar. Did he have enough water? What if the fever came back? But mostly she thought about what he’d told them. And she knew that his body was going to heal, but she wondered if the rest of him would ever do the same.

  “April?”

  When the voice came through the darkness, April wasn’t surprised to hear it. There had been the same tossing and turning coming from the other side of the room for hours, even after Violet drifted off to sleep.

  “Yeah?” April asked.

  “Do you think Evert killed my parents?”

  It wasn’t hard to imagine Sadie running those data points through her mind over and over, looking for a way that two plus two could somehow equal fifty.

  “I don’t know,” April said.

  A tree limb scratched against the brand-new window, and the house seemed to creak and moan under the weight of all that stone and wood.

  “April?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you—when you said you’d found Gabriel Winterborne. I should have listened. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” April said, because it was. No one ever believed April. She hadn’t really expected the people at Winterborne House to be any different.

  “April?” Sadie’s voice was softer this time, as if she was already half asleep.

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re gonna get your key back.” Sadie yawned. “I promise.”

  Promises were easy to make and hard to keep, but April closed her eyes and didn’t say so. She just lay there for a long time, listening to the wind.

  28

  The Forgotten Room

  “I’m awake!”

  April didn’t mean to shout. Or to knock a notebook, two pens, and a glass of water off the table. She absolutely, positively did not intend to drool. But that’s exactly what happened as Ms. Nelson stood in front of the class the next afternoon, a very confused/amused/disappointed look upon her face.

  “April, perhaps you can explain why plants always lean toward the light?”

  April glanced at Sadie, expecting the answer to come bursting out of her like a burp or a sneeze. But Sadie was silent. Sadie was still. And April didn’t know whether to be worried or comforted by the fact that even Sadie was still lost in a fog about all they’d seen and heard the nig
ht before.

  But, mainly, April couldn’t stop looking at Ms. Nelson and wondering, What else are you keeping from us?

  “What’s wrong with everybody? Do you guys have a case of the Mondays?” Ms. Nelson teased. She laughed. She hadn’t yet figured out that she was surrounded by children who didn’t quite trust her anymore.

  “April?”

  And then she was saved by a knock on the door.

  “Excuse me, Isabella.” Smithers peeked into the schoolroom. “The real estate agent is calling for you.”

  “Thank you, Smithers,” she said, then started for the hall. “Let’s get back to this tomorrow, shall we? I think we all need a night off.”

  She gave a quick glance back at the group. But she didn’t say anything before leaving the kids to their secrets and their silence.

  “So what happens now?” Sadie could have been talking about life without classes or the billionaire in the basement, but the answer seemed to be the same either way because they kept on sitting there, doing nothing.

  Then there was singing. Or humming. Or something in between as Smithers swept into the room and started tidying up the bookshelves.

  “Smithers?” Colin said. “Why’s Ms. Nelson talking to a real estate agent?”

  It took Smithers a suspiciously long time to reply, “She’s looking at houses.”

  “Why?” Tim asked, and Smithers considered his words carefully.

  “Because this house belongs to the Winterborne family—not the foundation—so we may be moving soon.”

  “Why?” This time it was Violet, and that stopped Smithers in his tracks.

  “Because in a couple of weeks, a judge will mostly likely declare Gabriel Winterborne legally dead. It’s been ten years, and the courts believe . . . That is to say . . . Evert has tried . . .” Smithers started and stopped until he finally settled on, “We may be moving to a new house!” and then he went back to work and, if possible, the room got even quieter.

  So Colin pushed away from the table and mouthed the words come on.

  * * *