The Secret (Seacliff High Mystery Book 1) (12 page)

“That’s great. I’m getting really anxious to wrap up this mystery. For one thing, even with Tucker and the new locks the guys installed, I don’t feel entirely safe with whoever broke in the other day still out there.”

“Maybe you guys should get a security system. Something high-tech, like the rich people have. You’re awful far off the beaten path. If something happened you wouldn’t even have any neighbors to call on.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll talk to my mom about it. I guess I should go finish my homework so I can get to bed at a decent time. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

The group met in the parking lot next to Alyson’s new Jeep after school the next day. Tonight was the big game, so they only had a limited amount of time for what they needed to do.

“Eli and I need to be back on campus by four o’clock.” Trevor calculated. “That gives us about four hours to track down Stella Townsend.”

“I have both a phone number and an address for Ashley Kent,” Alyson reminded them. “Should we try going to her house or should we call first?”

“I say we call.” Mac leaned against the shiny white SUV. “We might go all the way over there only to find out she isn’t home. A lot of people are probably at work at this time of day.”

Alyson pulled out her cell phone. “What should I say if she’s there? Just blurting out that we’re looking for her mother might seem odd.”

“Just tell her we’re doing papers for history, interviewing longtime residents,” Trevor suggested. “It worked okay with Ben. Then we can just sort of ease into the topic of her mom once we get her talking.”

Alyson dialed the number on the slip of paper in her hand. “May I speak to Ashley Kent?” she asked whoever answered the phone on the other end. “I see. Can you tell me when she might be home?” Alyson waited for the reply. “And where exactly does she work? Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.”

Alyson hung up the phone and slipped it back into her purse. “I think one of her kids answered. He told me she would be at work until six o’clock, at the local library.”

“That’s not far from here,” Mac said. “Let’s go see if she has time to talk to us right now.”

They climbed into the Jeep and drove the two short blocks to the county library. “Do you think we should all go in?” Eli asked. “It might be overwhelming to have all four of us descend on her at once.”

Alyson agreed. “Maybe Trevor and Mac should go in. They’ve lived here a lot longer than Eli and I have and could probably present a much more believable story. I mean, if we really were doing a paper, we’d already know something about the town, and Eli and I really don’t.”

“That’s a good idea.” Mac nodded. “Come on, pretty boy, let’s go work some magic.”

“Don’t call me that,” Trevor complained as he got out of the passenger seat and followed Mac up the walkway to the front of the building.

“Those two act more like siblings than friends,” Eli observed.

“I noticed that the first day I met them. Mac told me they’ve been friends since they were in diapers. I guess that sort of makes them like siblings, although Mac is always complaining that she doesn’t get along with her real brother and sisters. Do you get along with your brother?” Alyson asked.

“Most times I do. He’s older than me, but we’ve always been close. I take it you don’t have siblings?”

“No, it’s just me,” Alyson confirmed.

“It must be lonely to be an only child.”

Alyson shrugged. “Sometimes. But my mom and I are close, and I’ve always had good friends. So, are you starting in today’s game?”

Alyson and Eli talked about football while they waited. While the conversation was interesting, it seemed like Mac and Trevor had been gone forever. Alyson looked at her watch. Twenty minutes had passed and they still hadn’t come out of the library.

“Well, at least she didn’t kick them out immediately,” Eli said, when Alyson commented on how long they’d been gone.

“True. But I really hate all this waiting around. I wish they’d hurry.”

“Here they come,” Eli announced.

Trevor and Mac got back into the Jeep and Alyson started the engine. 

“Stella Townsend lives in a small town that’s about thirty miles down the coast,” Mac began. “Ashley was kind enough to call her mom, who agreed to see us this afternoon.”

“Do we have time?” Alyson asked. “It’s already almost one, and it will take a good forty minutes to drive there on the coast road. And that’s if there’s no traffic.”

“It might be cutting it close on a Friday afternoon,” Trevor acknowledged. “Coach will have a coronary if we’re late. Maybe you two should go without us. The game doesn’t actually start until six, so you should have plenty of time.”

Alyson looked at Mac.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Mac agreed.

Alyson headed south down the coast highway. “This sure is a pretty drive,” she said, noting the crashing waves and rocky cliffs to their right. “The water near Cutter’s Cove doesn’t seem quite this rough.”

“That’s because the town was built on an inlet,” Mac explained. “There’s a natural wave break a few miles out that protects the cove.”

“You know, I’ve lived in Cutter’s Cove a month and I haven’t even been down to the beach.” 

“There’s a great beach at the end of Miller’s Road,” Mac told her. “Everyone around here goes there because it’s got a huge strip of sand and the water is usually nice and calm. We should try to go before the weather gets too cold. It’s really fun to have a huge bonfire and roast marshmallows. And we could make s’mores. I love the way the marshmallows smoosh out the sides of the graham crackers.”

“Sounds like fun.” Alyson smiled at Mac’s childlike enthusiasm. “Maybe next weekend?”

“There’ll be a game on Saturday, but maybe Sunday. Do you surf?”

“I’ve never tried, but I’d like to. It seems like the water would be too cold, though.”

“Most surfers wear wet suits this far north. You should try it,” Mac encouraged. “It’s a real rush.”

The drive took nearly an hour with Friday-afternoon traffic, but finally they pulled up in front of a neat Cape Cod–style house. Stella must have a green thumb; the entire property boasted neatly groomed landscaping.

“Wow, those flowers along the front of the porch are gorgeous,” Mac observed.

“So, do we stick to our school-paper approach or do we get right to the point?” Alyson asked as they sat outside the house. “Sooner or later we’re going to have to come right out and ask her if Jonathan was Barkley’s son.”

“Maybe we should get right to the point, but in a roundabout way. We could start off telling her that your mom bought the house and ease into the whole heir thing from there. Did you bring the birth certificate?”

“It’s in my purse.”

Mac took a deep breath for courage. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Alyson and Mac walked up the four steps to the front door. Alyson rang the doorbell. The few seconds it took for someone to answer seemed like an eternity.

“You must be the kids from Cutter’s Cove.” A friendly-looking older woman wearing a sundress opened the door. “Come on in. I’ve made lemonade.”

The interior of the house was as neat and cheerily decorated as the front yard. “We’ll sit outside.” The woman indicated they should take seats at the bright yellow picnic table that sat in the center of a large brick patio.

“You have a beautiful home,” Alyson said. “And your garden is stunning.”

“Thank you. I enjoy it. Gardening is a hobby of mine.” The woman poured three glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade and passed them around. “So, should we get right to the point?” she asked.

Alyson hesitated. She’d been all ready to go into her hastily prepared speech, but she hadn’t been expecting the woman’s forthrightness.

“You’re here about Jonathan, aren’t you?” she asked when Alyson didn’t say anything.

Both girls looked across the table, their mouths hanging open.

“I knew the moment Ashley called that was the real reason for this visit,” the woman informed them.

“Yes,” Alyson croaked. “But how did you know?”

“I know a lot of things,” the feisty woman replied. “You don’t get to be eighty-two years old without knowing a thing or two.”

“I want you to know we have only the best of intentions,” Alyson interjected quickly. We’re not trying to damage anyone’s reputation or betray anyone’s secrets; it’s just that after we started sorting through all the stuff in the attic, we realized there might be a legitimate heir. We simply wanted to find him and return his stuff to him.”

“And that led you to Jonathan.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Alyson looked toward Mac, who seemed quite shocked still and hadn’t said a word. “We have reason to believe that Jonathan’s son, Caleb, is the rightful heir to whatever is left of the Cutter fortune. Unfortunately, we don’t have any absolute proof. We found the birth certificate, but there isn’t any father’s name on it. Without a witness or some other documentation, it might not stand up in court if someone challenged his right to his inheritance.”

Stella stood up from the table and walked over to pick a spent bud from the rosebush near the back door. Returning to the table, she looked Alyson in the eye and spoke again. “When Ashley called I knew what you were after. I actually wasn’t sure what I was going to do before you girls showed up. I made a promise over fifty years ago that I’ve kept ever since. However,” she sat back down in her chair, “everyone I made that promise to is dead. I see no reason to keep quiet any longer. Especially if it will help you to make sure Barkley’s grandson gets what he deserves.”

“So Jonathan really was Barkley’s son,” Alyson whispered.

“Indeed he was,” Stella declared. “And I have the original copy of the birth certificate, which lists both parents’ names, to prove it.”

“You mean the one we found isn’t the only copy?”

“You have to understand,” Stella started to explain, “Mary was a little slip of a girl when she met Barkley. She fell madly in love with him and he, in his own way, loved her too. When she got pregnant Barkley wanted Mary to take the baby and start a new life somewhere else. He knew Jonathan would never have a normal life with him. His reputation as an eccentric was already firmly established, and most of the townsfolk thought he’d killed his stepmother. A normal life in Cutter’s Cove for anyone with the name Cutter was never going to happen.”

Stella took a sip of her lemonade. “Besides, Barkley had been a bastard son himself, and he associated illegitimacy with pain. His entire life his stepmom, as well as many of the town’s citizens, had ostracized and abused him. He knew he couldn’t be the father Jonathan deserved, so he arranged for an old friend of his to marry Mary and adopt the boy.”

Stella paused for breath. “Thing was, Mary loved Barkley and would have nothing to do with the idea. Finally, after months of bargaining, the two struck a deal. Mary would have the baby, but she wouldn’t leave town. She had to promise, however, never to tell anyone Barkley was the father. Mary came to me and we struck a deal; in exchange for quite a lot of money, I would deliver the baby without ever revealing the true paternity of the child. The birth certificate you found was a copy of the original.”

Stella took another sip of her drink. “After Jonathan was born Mary somehow convinced Barkley to let them move in with him. No one in town knew about it, mostly because no one in town ever went out to the estate except to deliver supplies, and by that time no one really expected to catch a glimpse of the estate’s occupant. I know Mary loved Barkley with all her heart, but she finally realized after a year of living with a total recluse that was no way to bring up a child. Finally, she agreed to Barkley’s original offer and moved north to marry the man he picked out for her. I believe it was a marriage in name only. I really only know this much because Mary came to me to get a second copy of the birth certificate. She filled in her new husband’s name as the father, although I don’t know if she ever filed it anywhere.”

Alyson wiped a tear from her cheek. “Why didn’t Barkley simply move with Mary and his son? Somewhere new, where no one knew them?”

“I’ve often wondered that myself. He seemed to care for Mary and the boy, but I think it was too late. For some reason we may never know, he made that home of his into a prison. I don’t think he could get past his own neurosis. He seemed totally incapable of being a part of normal society by that point.”

Mac spoke for the first time. “You said you have a signed copy of the birth certificate. When did he sign it?”

“After Mary left, he called and had me come out to the house so he could sign it. He made me promise I would keep it secret until after he died.”

“So why didn’t you bring forth the evidence of Jonathan’s birth when Barkley died?” Alyson asked.

“I didn’t know until recently that Jonathan’s son even existed. I knew Barkley had died, but I didn’t realize Jonathan had come back to Cutter’s Cove, or that he’d married and had a child. I moved away a long time ago and didn’t keep up with local news. And Jonathan’s last name was Wellington. I had no way of knowing he was Barkley’s son.”

“So how did you realize who he was, and find out about Caleb?” Alyson asked.

“Ben Wilson called me a few days ago to tell me about the questions some kids had been asking. He knew I’d delivered Mary’s baby but not the rest of the story. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do since he called. Then, when Ashley called this afternoon, I decided to meet you myself to see what you were up to. If your intentions were pure, I decided to tell you the whole story. If they hadn’t been I would have made up a lie.”

“Wow,” Mac breathed, leaning back in her chair. “I thought I’d be happy to have this mystery solved, and I
am
happy we can help Caleb get what’s coming to him, but I feel so sad. Totally drained. I really wasn’t prepared for that.”