Secrets of Hallstead House Read Online Free PDF Page A

the Saint Lawrence River, and I chose one written by Paul Malo. If the Saint Lawrence River region was to be my temporary home, I should learn more about it.
    I took the book to my room and got undressed quickly since by now it was very cold. Before getting into bed, I peered between the drapes and saw that the sky had cleared, leaving a perfect half-moon shining brightly. It had been a long time since I had seen anything in the sky so clearly! The lights of Manhattan had a way of obscuring the moon and stars at night. With my book in hand, I climbed between the covers. Before I started reading, however, I made the mistake of reaching for a small photo album I had placed inside the nightstand. It contained photos of me and my parents, as well as a few shots of Alan. I paged slowly through the album, remembering, and tears began to well up in my eyes. I blinked them away and placed the album back in the nightstand. Determined not to upset myself on my first night in this unfamiliar place, I began to read the book, with its fascinating stories of life on the Saint Lawrence River in days gone by.
    Despite my interest in the book, my eyelids soon began to get heavy. It had been a long day. I turned out the light, thinking again of how nice it would be to use the fireplace in my room.
    I slept well that night, despite the cold. When I awoke, a little after five o’clock, I showered quickly and got dressed, then slipped downstairs and out the heavy front door for a walk.
    It was cold outside. My breath hung in the air, frosty white. I walked quickly to stay warm, staying for a short distance on the flagstone path around the front of Summerplace, but then setting off through the trees toward the dock, in the direction I had come from the day before.
    As I emerged from the stand of trees, I could hear the plaintive sounds of a flock of geese flying low overhead. It was still too dark to see them, but I knew there were a lot of them. Their honking had a lonely sound. As I approached the dock, I saw Pete on his knees, looking at the boat I had ridden in yesterday. I went down to say hello.
    “Morning,” he grunted as he straightened up next to the boat.
    “Good morning,” I replied. “Checking out the boat?”
    “Yeah. I’ll be taking her out of the water in another month or so. Trying to get away from Summerplace already?”
    I smiled ruefully. “I think it’s going to take me some time to get adjusted here.”
    “Well, I guess you’ll get used to it soon enough.”
    We exchanged strained small talk for a couple of minutes, but after Pete checked his watch for the third time during our brief conversation, I said good-bye and continued walking. I headed back toward the house and walked briskly around it several times. I saw a set of steps leading to a door that I hadn’t noticed on my self-guided tour the previous day; I presumed it opened into Miss Hallstead’s office. As I rounded the back of the house for the third time, I saw Vali leaving the cottage she shared with Leland. She hadn’t seen me, so I slowed my steps to avoid speaking to her. Once she’d plodded along the flagstones and let herself in the kitchen door, I quickened my pace again and entered quietly through the front.
    It was close to six a.m., so I went to the kitchen to find out about breakfast. Miss Hallstead had told me that Vali always brought her a breakfast tray before six thirty, so I thought I should probably eat breakfast around the same time.
    Vali was in the kitchen, banging a skillet and a butter dish down on the stove. I greeted her from the doorway. “Good morning, Mrs. Byrd.”
    She turned to me with a sour expression and replied, “If you’re looking for breakfast, you’ll have to make it yourself. I’m fixing Miss Hallstead’s tray.”
    Somewhat taken aback but determined to stay cheerful, I eventually found a few ingredients to make myself breakfast. While the water for my tea heated, I offered to take Miss Hallstead’s tray to