Secrets of Hallstead House by Amy M Reade Page B

forget a simple thing like opening the flue?” he asked.
    I resisted the urge to tell Pete that Leland had left out the part about the flue, because blaming someone else would undoubtedly make me look even worse. Instead I said hotly, “I said I was sorry. And I still am. What do you want from me?”
    “Nothing, nothing. Sorry I brought it up. I guess someone from the big city shouldn’t be expected to know how to use a flue.” With that he left.
    Defensively, I called after him, “You know, people in New York City have fireplaces too! I just never used one!” I immediately heard the petulance in my own voice and was embarrassed all over again.
    I decided to go indoors and start moving furniture around to make Alex’s paths around the house a little easier to navigate. Although I had asked Leland for help yesterday, I figured I would be better off just doing the work myself. I started by looking around for double-sided tape. Luckily, Valentina wasn’t around and I found some in a drawer in the kitchen. I went first to the living room. I moved several small occasional and end tables back toward the walls and placed the tape along the edges of the rugs. Once that was done, I rolled up the hearthrug and placed it by the doorway. It was so thick and fluffy that it could still trip Alex even if I taped it down. Leland would have to put it somewhere else. The room didn’t look as nice as it had before I started, but at least it was safer now, and it would have to stay like this only temporarily. I walked over to the fireplace again and looked at the portrait of Forrest Harper above the mantel. He had indeed been a handsome man. I wished again that I had been able to meet him. His eyes looked so kind.
    Next I went into the library. The room was practically a minefield of obstructions for Alex, and I spent a good deal of time securing rugs and moving furniture and reshelving the stacks of books that lay about on the floor and tables. I didn’t know whether there was a system for replacing the books, so I put them where I thought they belonged. It was an interesting job, actually, and I pored over many titles that I hadn’t seen before.
    After I finished in the library, I checked on Alex. She hadn’t mentioned what time she wanted to start her exercises, nor had she said how long her meeting with Stephan and Will was expected to take. I knocked softly on her door and heard her call to me to enter.
    When I walked into her sitting room, I was surprised to see Alex sitting on the sofa with a man I hadn’t seen before. A woman sat in the leather wing chair near the sofa. Stephan and Will were nowhere to be seen. I stopped short and started to apologize for interrupting, but Alex held out her hand to me and beckoned. “Macy, I’d like you to meet Brandt Davis and Giselle Smythe. I’ve known them both for a very long time.”
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Davis,” I said, holding out my hand.
    He stood up and smiled, saying, “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Stoddard.”
    “Please, call me Macy,” I replied.
    “I will if you call me Brandt.” He smiled again, a very wide, contagious grin. He was of medium height, probably in his mid-forties, with wide, dark eyes and very short-cropped, graying hair. He was trim, and wore blue slacks and a white oxford shirt.
    Next I turned to the woman, who remained seated, eyeing me warily. “It’s nice to meet you, Macy. Please call me Giselle,” she said in a clear, cultured tone.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Giselle,” I said.
    Up close, Giselle appeared to be about forty years old, but it was clear she had made an effort to appear younger. It worked, at least from a distance. She had blond hair that hung to her shoulder blades and light-blue eyes. Even seated, I could tell that she had a very good figure, and her clothes suggested that she knew she did too. She was dressed in a tight sweater with a low scoop neckline and slim capris. She made a very striking