Page 8 of Halstead House

I could practically hear it as Mother shifted from anger to her ice mode. “Very well. I’ll put you out of my mind.”

“You know that’s not what I want,” I habitually soothed.

“Clearly it is. Your actions have made that obvious. I will see you in June. Hopefully you will still remember me by then.”

I heard the line click as she disconnected the call. I rubbed a hand over my face and let my phone fall to the bed. Well, at least it had been predictable. Manipulation, anger, freeze out. The order remained forever the same. Guilt, the fourth step, was setting in, and I needed to fight it or this argument would go the way of all the rest—with me caving and begging for forgiveness. Although it had been a long time since we’d made it to freeze out. Usually I caved at anger.

Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was almost nine. My body was tired enough to sleep, but my mind needed to settle. A walk around the property would do the trick. The gardens had been so beautiful, the fountain especially.

I slipped out of my dress, happy to change into the more worn and soft fabrics that I wore in the privacy of my own home. After putting on comfortable pants, a silky shirt, and sandals, I grabbed the key to the house from the side table and quietly slipped into the hallway. I opted to take the elevator, as I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by taking the stairs through the house. The ride down was silent other than the creaking of the pulley system. After getting off in the basement, I made only one false turn before finding the door I was looking for and exiting into the darkened night.

I was surprised to feel a chill in the air when I left the house behind. The daytime temperature on this island had been deceptive. With the sun down, I rubbed my arms for warmth. From somewhere close I could hear the waves lapping up onto the sand and feel the constant breeze that swept across the island. I inhaled deeply, pulling the new smells in and pushing the old hurts out.

I truly loved my mother, but I when I’d made my birthday wish and blown out the candles a week ago I’d made a promise to myself that now was the time. I was going to discover who Grace Burke really was, and it was hard to know how to go about that with her pressing on my mind.

I strolled slowly, letting my hands run over the flowers, or caress the rough prickly bark of the palm trees that I found so fascinating. A light caught my attention from off to the side, and I turned toward the outbuildings to see that the carriage house was lit up. Tour hours had long passed, so it seemed like something I should check out.

The door was unlocked and I let myself in. I did not, however, close the door behind me. If one of Mother’s psychopath killers was in here I needed to have an escape route at the ready. The only sound was that of my sandals working their way across the cement floor into the main gallery area where the two carriages and three cars were on display. They were beautiful, shiny, and well cared for. There was no sign of anyone else, and my historian’s eye verified that they were too valuable to be left with lights blazing and doors open overnight.

“Hello?” I called into the stillness. If no one was out here I’d let Ana know so someone could lock up.

“Over here,” a muffled male voice replied.

The voice startled me, a fact that I found amusing since I’d been the one to call out first. I spun quickly to the side, putting a hand up to my chest as I saw his shape start to form out of the corner of my eye.

He was fairly tall, with black hair and olive skin. His hair was cut close, as was his tidy beard. His t-shirt showed broad shoulders and arms, as would be expected of a mechanic who worked with cars and other machinery every day. I didn’t remember mention of a mechanic, but then again, I was new and my head was still spinning a bit. His eyes seemed tense as he watched me, and I had the feeling that he saw me as a threat to be analyzed. That was a first. Me, the little lamb, a threat?

“Can I help you with something?” he asked, breaking what had become an awkward silence.

I had intended to weave my way past the carriages to where he was standing near the cars, but something about his tone stopped me from getting closer. “Oh, well... I was just curious. I saw the light on. I wanted to make sure everything was okay out here.”

He nodded, one flick of his head that I would have missed if my eyes hadn’t been glued to his face as realization dawned. I’d seen this man before, but only in pictures.

With a rag in his hand, he gestured to the black car that I hadn’t noticed before. “Everything is just fine. I’m waxing the cars.” I nodded, unable to speak over the thoughts coursing through my mind. “After hours is the only time I can do that,” he added quietly.

“Yes, of course.” I felt a nervous tingle in my toes as he stoically met my gaze. His eyes were cautious and unwelcoming, and I struggled to know how to proceed.

This was John Lucas Halstead, Eliza’s nephew, and last in the Halstead line. He oversaw the business side of the Halstead empire. He had visited Mary a couple of times with his parents, but I’d never had the chance to meet him. I knew he was several years older than me, and strictly dedicated to the family businesses. Thanks to some shameless internet stalking, I also knew he was a well-dressed, well-traveled professional, who apparently made the ladies swoon. Mary had loved her great-great nephew with the same fierce devotion she’d given to me, and she’d often spoken of her desire for John Lucas and me to meet. For my part, I’d never been that eager to meet him. I’d seriously doubted we’d have much in common.

It was a total out-of-body moment to see him standing there across from me. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t help but catalog the differences from the pictures I’d seen. He looked a little less perfect in person, his nose a little larger, his eyes more hooded, his gaze shuttered. I couldn’t decide if I should tell him who I was or not, and the one-sided recognition made me stumble when words finally came.

“I just got hired on today,” I said. Smooth.

He nodded again, his stance relaxing slightly. “Well, in that case I hope you won’t mind if I get back to work.” He waved the cloth again and crouched down to resume his polishing.

“Sure, no problem.” I decided to be brave and introduce myself properly, so I zigged around the two cars and came around to look down at him. “I’m...” I stuttered to a stop, my desire to make the connection squelched by the look on his face. He wanted me gone. I took an involuntary step backwards. “I’m so sorry. I can see that I interrupted you. I was going to introduce myself, but...” My eyes glanced behind me toward the door I’d come in.

Our eyes caught again when I looked back. He remained crouched but pressed his lips into a practiced smile that did nothing to make him look happier. “What’s your name?”

“It’s, um, my name is Grace.” I tried to maintain my cheerful greeting by offering a half smile. It fell after a brief second. He didn’t recognize me. And why would he, really? I deflated a hair.

“Hey, Grace.” His dark eyes held no interest before they dropped back to the cloth he had in his hand.

He didn’t offer his name in return, even though he had no possible way of knowing that I knew who he was. He asked no further questions, and I didn’t offer more information as he dipped the cloth into the polish and began wiping where he had left off.

I recognized a brush off when I saw one. He clearly wasn’t interested in company. Still, I was a little surprised at how standoffish he was to a new employee. Maybe Mother had been right, after all, that not everyone was going to welcome me with open arms. It was clear that he had a mile-high wall and that pushing at that wall would be unwelcome. As far as walls went, I understood, perhaps better than most.

CHAPTER 4

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