Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 37
The Netherlands, December 24, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
I don’t know much about the De Vries family. All I know is that they come from a dynasty of powerful industrialists and landowners. I know more about Jan—Alex and Sebastian’s friend, who lost his daughter, Janette, twenty years ago by the hands of the man I ended up marrying. And if that wasn’t bad enough, it’s at his property that we will spend Christmas Eve rather than in New York like we intended to. Not surprisingly, given his public reputation, there’s security at every corner of his estate and a very diligent review of every guest coming in. As we get into the main reception hall, we are greeted with flutes of champagne and a classical band playing warm-hearted Christmas songs. I glance around, taking in my surroundings—the chandeliers glow with a warm, mellow light, gowns and tuxes fill the room, along with laugher and smiles. Among the crowd, I see Julia and Sebastian standing afar and talking to a couple I recognize from my wedding reception at Beurs van Berlage.
“Alex! Petra!” we hear a male voice calling, not too far from us. As I look in his direction, my eyes alight on Jan, coming over us with a big smile on his face.
“Jan!” Alex goes to meet him, and the duo embrace each other warmly in a long hug.
Somehow, I feel a bit guilty for knowing the truth about his daughter’s death and not telling him. It’s none of my business anyway, but there’s a strange heaviness weighing on my heart at the idea that Jan might never know what happened to her. Don’t we owe him the truth? I know it could destroy their friendship and create a myriad of conflicts, which is why I kinda understand why Alex prefers to keep it to himself, but still, wouldn’t facing the truth be more dignifying than perpetuating a lie?
“What a wonderful reception,” Alex praises, and his words pull me back to planet earth.
“Thank you for having us,” I say as I greet Jan.
“I’m so glad you managed to come,” he tells us, always with such a friendly tone. In fact, it’s hard to believe that Jan could ever be revengeful. He seems such a kind and peaceful person. Then looking particularly at me, he asks, “How was North Island? Did you enjoy it?”
“Oh, it was amazing, we saw so many giant tortoises there.” I can’t hide my excitement as I recall our wonderful trip and all the memories we created there. “And even vegetarian bats.”
“Vegetarian bats?” Jan asks in surprise.
“Yes, we saw bats that would only eat fruits,” I explain.
“I’m sure they were eating vegetarian only when you were around,” Alex teases. “Just like me.”
I shake my head as they both laugh.
Jan then takes over. “So wait—you mean Petra doesn’t let you eat meat?”
“Just when we are eating together,” I reply before Alex can do so.
“And given the fact I’m now living with her…” my husband is particularly witty today.
“Oh c’mon, with the amount of lunches you have without me, there’s plenty of room to eat whatever you want.”
As Jan keeps laughing at our banter, Alex wraps an arm around my waist and leans in to plant a kiss on my temple. Even after being married, it’s still so rare that he shows affection like that in front of his friends and family, but I can only rejoice as I look at him with a smile up to my ears.
“Good evening,” I hear someone saying from behind us. And as we turn, we find Julia and Sebastian standing in front of us. I try to match their joy as she takes me into her arms. “How are you guys doing?” Julia asks with her usual sweet tone. “Petra, you look great with this tan. Wow.”
I wonder if the compliment is a way for her to put down my guard and make herself appear more likable to me. And while I’ve promised myself I will remain polite with all my in-laws, I will never forget that she was okay with killing her dad and my participating in that monstrous Russian roulette.
“Thank you so much,” I tell her, giving her a smile for the sake of courtesy. “You look great as always.”
Discreetly enough, Julia puts an arm around mine and starts slowly dragging me away from the group. After taking a few steps, she lowers her tone and says, “I wanted to talk to you privately and, um, ask you if you are still mad at me?”
Well, at least she is direct. “I’m not mad, but I must say, what happened that morning left a pretty bad taste in my mouth.” That’s the most diplomatic way to put it.
“I know I disappointed you.” She keeps her tone low and discreet. “But I want you to know that my dad was a horrible man and—”
“Nothing justifies killing him,” I had to step in. Julia stops walking, and there’s something in her gaze that changes; it’s now more serious, with an ounce of annoyance. But nevertheless, I proceed, “Sebastian trusted you and thought you could leave the past behind and forgive your dad. Or at least be kind to him.”
“Dad doesn’t deserve any of my kindness,” she snaps. “He was barely present in my life, and he was certainly not present in my sisters’ either.” Julia stares away for a brief instant as she seems to be thinking something through. “You are seeing it with fresh eyes, without the suffering and pain that we endured.”
I drop my gaze, recognizing her point. “I know.”
“Where I come from, we keep our promises. And we told him before he left for his exile that if he ever came back, he’d be greeted with a bullet in his head.” A cold shiver runs down my spine at her threatening tone, and even if the threat wasn’t directed to me, it makes me freeze on the spot. “It seems like he didn’t believe us.”
“But that was so long ago—”
“And?” she cuts me off before I can even finish. “A promise is for as long as both shall live. Or do you expect your vows to stop mattering after twenty or thirty years?”
Letting out a breath, I ponder her question. “Julia, I agree with you. But I just think after so long, you could be a bit more, um, forgiving?”
“Forgiving?” She chuckles at me, shaking her head. “No, dear. Leave forgiveness to God. People who forgive those who hurt them can be sure they will be hurt again by those they forgave.”
“So if Sebastian does something bad, you won’t forgive him?” I ask.
“Depends how bad it is.” She pauses, considering me. “But I think Sebastian is smart enough to know what I’m capable of if he ever dares to step out of line.” Boy, this conversation is getting so awkward… I didn’t need to know how crazy she is. “Petra?” I blink, focusing back on her. “You are still young and deeply in love with my brother, but if you become too forgiving… Even the most honest man might feel tempted to take advantage of that.” It sounds like a warning, and I can’t prevent myself from frowning at her words. Does she know everything that happened between Alex and I? Does she know all the lies I forgave? Despite hating to the core how she treated her dad, I cannot disagree with her. Alex lied many times, and many times I forgave him, hoping he would finally stop deceiving me. I just hope this time he stops for good. Then, she leans in and gives me a kiss on my temple just like her brother did. Before I can dwell on what she just told me, though, she adds, “Oh, by the way, Sebastian and I are hosting a New Year’s Eve party.” Her tone now has totally switched to a festive one. “And no, you can’t decline. We are gonna have fireworks, and Andries is gonna play the piano for us.”
“Andries?” I ask, walking down my memory lane to remember who he is. “You mean, your oldest?”
“Yes, he’s a fine pianist,” she says with pride in her gaze.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to say, but all I want is to have a decent relationship with her. “Alright then, um, I’m sure we can extend our stay for a few more days.”
***
As Julia and I are escorted to our table in the dining hall, I realize Jan’s hosting his dinner in a ballroom with a similar style and design to the one in the De Haar Castle. There are at least ten tables spread across the room, and on one end stands the band, this time playing jazzy music for the evening. As the usher leads me to my table, I shouldn’t be surprised to find Alex already there talking with Sebastian and Jan. Truthfully, I hoped we wouldn’t have to sit beside Julia and Sebastian, and yet here we are. Alex appears to be quite engrossed with them, and if he’s by any chance still holding a grudge against his brother-in-law, then he’s hiding it quite well.
After a few more minutes though, Jan stands up and the music stops. As I look around, everyone seems to be already in their seats. Jan takes his flute of champagne and starts to give a speech. “My dear friends, I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone for coming here tonight. We are here not only to celebrate Christmas but also to raise a toast to the newlyweds, Alex and Petra, who just came back from their honeymoon.” Just hearing his last words makes me go red up to my ears. Oh gosh, and now everyone is looking at us, including Jan. “With so many divorced families, including myself twice, I truly admire that you guys took the eternal vows. I wish you both a prosperous marriage. It’s not an easy journey, but with love and mutual respect, there’s nothing you can’t overcome,” says the man who was recently convicted for raping his wife. How ironic. As I come to think of it, I wonder if he knows I’m the daughter of the nonprofit founder who helped her win her case. Jan then raises his flute of champagne and, looking at his guests, he says, “To Alex and Petra.”
We do the same, and I wet my lips with the bubbly, looking instinctively at Julia and Sebastian.
* * *
After dinner, I excuse myself and walk down the hallway to go to a quieter area of the manor so that I can make a few phone calls. With so many guests filling every corner of the entryway and reception hall, it’s hard to find a place where I can be left alone. As I walk through the corridor, the slightly open door on my right sparks my curiosity, and as I push it further to get a full view into the room, my eyes alight on a sumptuous library. Perfect! I get inside and close the door behind me. Then, I glance around, making sure that there is no one else here, and spend the next twenty minutes catching up with Emma, who is spending the rest of winter in Tulum at a spiritual retreat.
Afterward, I call Dad, making sure he isn’t too mad at us for not spending Christmas in New York with him.
“Do you know when I will see you again?” he asks, probably containing his disappointment that I won’t spend New Years Eve there either.
“Well, I suppose in January for the board meeting.” My first board meeting actually. “Why? Is everything alright?”
Dad doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he draws out a breath before finally saying, “Well, it’s my first Christmas without you, so…” He lets his words trail off as he takes a sip of his drink. “It’s a bit harder than I thought it’d be.” There’s some nostalgia and sadness in his voice that I wasn’t expecting. “Today, I went to your atelier, I mean, what’s left of it.” My heart squeezes tight as I feel the pain in his words. I knew he wouldn’t cope well being left alone in that big apartment, but I never thought solitude would hit him so hard. “And I found the first brushes Alex offered you when you were seven.”
Before he can proceed, I say, “Oh, I left them there as a souvenir along with a few paintings.” The truth is I didn’t even manage yet to check all the paintings and brushes I want to take to my new atelier in Bedford Hills. “Um, I also left your vinyls there.”
“Ah, yes,” Dad mutters, thinking something through. “The point is, I, as your dad, should’ve bought those brushes for you. I should’ve taken you to those galleries, and I should’ve bought you those books about art and—”
“Dad, why are you thinking about it now?” I ask, cutting him off. “You can’t change the past. It’s alright. Really.” I imagine he must have had a few drinks by now, which is making him more nostalgic and self-conscious than before.
“Well, because today it’s Christmas Eve, and for the first time in nineteen years, you aren’t here. Janine asked me if I wanted a Christmas tree, but what’s the point if you aren’t here?” He pauses, his melancholia sinking into him. “I want to apologize for having taken you for granted.” My brows raise up, and I barely believe his words. He must be beyond tipsy to be saying that with so much conviction. “For some naïve reason, before you got engaged, I thought you’d stay living with me until your mid-thirties or something.”
A chuckle escapes me at his last comment. Jeez! That’s really naïve of him, indeed. “Dad, I’m really sorry we didn’t spend Christmas with you,” I tell him once more. “But we will be back in January, and I promise we will do a few dinners, all the three of us, to catch up.”
While I thought my words were cheering him up, I hear Dad saying, “Alex is so damn lucky to see you every day. I miss your company so much—your sarcasm, your laugher, your endless questions about everything and nothing. I even miss the times when you were mad at me and you’d go upstairs and lock yourself inside your atelier.”
A smile settles on my lips at his kind words. But he’s already so depressed and down, it’s better to change the subject to something else, so I ask, “Have you spoken to Mom recently?”
“No, I haven’t. And I hope I will never have to again.”
“Did you know she left the Netherlands and moved somewhere else?”
“Did she?” he asks rhetorically. “I had no idea, no. Maybe it’ll do her some good.”
“Yeah… she left on my wedding day, and so far, she hasn’t said anything.”
“You shouldn’t worry about her, Petra,” he answers. “After everything she did to you…”
“I know. But she’s still my mom, and I only have one.” I pause for a beat. “I still have some hope that one day she will turn the page and be part of the family,” I tell him, knowing that I sound just as foolish as Dad a few minutes ago.
“Good luck with that.” After a few more seconds, Dad adds, “Well, I’m gonna go, I don’t want to take more of your time.”
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
“Eh, yes, some client is hosting a dinner, so that’s where I’ll be heading.” Despite his confident tone, I know there’s still some frustration behind it.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“No matter the flaws you have, I’m very proud of you. You supported my relationship with Alex since the very beginning when I’m pretty sure most parents wouldn’t even consider it,” I tell him from the bottom of my heart. “And that matters so much more to me than the galleries you didn’t take me to or the brushes you didn’t buy me.” Since I hear nothing on the other side after a few seconds, I ask, “Dad? Are you still here?”
“I am,” he answers, his voice barely audible. “Thanks…” I hear him struggling with his emotions as his breathing grows heavier. “Those are the words I really needed to hear.” He sniffles back, and I’m glad to know that what I said truly means to him.
Then a moment of silence ensues as Dad recomposes himself from everything. And for once, I wish he could have someone besides Janine who could be there by his side to give him some emotional support. It shouldn’t be that hard to find a woman who would love him for him, and not for the brand he built of himself. Because deep down, I’m sure he’s capable of showing that side of himself to a woman other than me.
“Alright, um, I’ve been taking way too much of your time,” he says with an ounce of embarrassment. “I should get going. Take good care of yourself, okay?” He seems to be much better now. At least, I hope so. “And whatever you need, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“I will. Thanks for everything, Dad,” I say, before adding, “And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Petra.”
And we hang up.
This call left me with such a heavy heart that I’m still slowly recovering from it. I should’ve called Dad first and then Emma. Not the other way around. Incredible how Dad regretted so many things he never thought about before. “I want to apologize for having taken you for granted.” His words replay in my head because this is such an easy mistake for us to do. Taking a deep breath in and out, I go to my recent calls and decide to press on the one that says Mom. As I put my phone against my ear, I hope at least for Christmas, Mom would have the decency to pick the call.
“Hi, this is Tess Hagen, I’m currently unable to take your call so kindly leave me a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!”
My heart falls to the ground as I hear once more the same empty words from her voicemail. Yet, as I hear the beep, I decide not to hang up, but to say, “Hi, Mom, it’s me, your daughter…” I glance around once more, making sure no one is listening. “Um, I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, and, um…” My words trail off as I remain searching for what to say next without sounding pathetic or annoying. “I hope you are enjoying your trip, and I hope you’ll get back to me soon.” I hesitate whether to say three more words or not, but for better or worse, I say, “I miss you,” and I hang up.
I’m about to leave the library when an unknown number calls me. Maybe it’s Mom. Without thinking twice, I take the call and put the phone against my ear.
“Petra?” It’s a female voice, but definitely not Mom’s.
“Who is calling?” I ask immediately.
“Hi, I’m Carice Knowles, Tess Hagen’s attorney. Am I talking to her daughter?”
My heart suddenly starts pounding at the word attorney. “Um, yes, it’s me.”
“Hi, Petra, how are you? I know you don’t know me, but I wanted to reach out, as your mom has been missing for the past twenty days…”
Wow. Mom didn’t even notify her attorney? “Oh, um, I got a voice message from her on my birthday, and she told me she went on vacation,” I tell her.
“I know your mom very well; I’m also her best friend,” she announces. “Your mom wouldn’t leave the country without telling me beforehand, she knows we need her at the nonprofit.” Her anxious tone is quite understandable. “The police are currently investigating her disappearance, but I think she got abducted.”
“What?” I blurt out. Jeez!
Carice is overreacting, but before I can tell her to relax, she proceeds, “We tried to call her many times, but her phone is turned off. Not even Anika knows where she is.”
“I’m sure she’s just taking some time off after everything she went through this year,” I tell her. “Some people really need to be left alone after going through a lot.”
“Petra, Anika went to her house, and her suitcases are still in there and all of her clothes too.” That’s not a good sign, but I can’t help trying to find another plausible reason behind that. “I think your mom was being coerced to send you that voice message so you wouldn’t worry about her.”
“There must be another explanation…” Yet, I’m not seeing any. If she went on vacation, why wouldn’t she take a suitcase and let Anika know? I mean, advising your maid that you won’t be back for a while is the least one should do.
“Look, I understand you don’t like her, but if your husband knows anything…” she lets her words trail off, yet fewer words can often say more.
I don’t know what else to say to her, except, “I’ll talk to him.” But the fact she’s implying my husband might have something to do with her disappearance is troubling. “I must go now. Merry Christmas.” And I end the call.
“Enjoying the library?” a sudden voice startles me, and as I turn, I see Jan entering into the room with a nostalgic expression. Still in shock, I remain staring at him as he paces slowly in my direction, a bit lost in his own thoughts.
“Oh, um, I’m so sorry, I just needed to do a few phone calls, and this place was quiet compared to everywhere else.”
“My daughter loved to come here.” His comment about his daughter casts a sadness in me I wasn’t ready for. “She’d lay on this sofa and spend hours reading while listening to some old classic.” The gravity in his voice breaks my heart, and I can perfectly imagine Janette doing just that. Why? Because I would do the same.
“Alex told me about her,” I tell him. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”
Jan seems genuinely surprised that I know about Janette. “Did Alex also tell you we found her cadaver?” A gasp of air expels from my lungs at the news. “We held her funeral four days ago.” Four days ago? Wait, so that’s when he called Alex while we were on the beach? Why didn’t Alex tell me anything about it?
But I’m too embarrassed to tell him my husband kept it to himself so instead, I say, “Yes, and, um, I’m sorry we couldn’t attend her funeral. We just came back to the Netherlands yesterday.”
“Janette was just two years younger than you when she died,” he tells me with a twinkle in his eye. “She had big plans for her future, too. She was a great fencer. Training nonstop. You’d have loved her, I’m sure you’d have become great friends.” I try to smile, but the sadness of her death doesn’t help.
“Do you know what happened to her?” I ask, interested in getting to know his version.
“She was most likely abducted and, um, taken far away by a bunch of scumbags that don’t deserve to live.”
Ah, yes, my husband and my dad. Lovely description. “Did you do an autopsy?”
“Of course I did. How else would I have known that it was her?”
Despite his derisive tone, I ask, “And did you find what she died from?”
“After twenty years, it’s pretty hard to tell. There’s nothing but bones.”
“Were her bones fractured or anything?”
“No, her bones seemed to all be in place,” Jan says.
Well, if I ever needed a confirmation that Mom was telling me the truth about Janette’s death, here it is. A car accident would have obviously fractured some, I know that well.
“I’m glad she managed to be reunited with her family,” I tell him, and I truly mean it. “She deserves to rest in peace.”
“Thank you for your kind words, Petra.” There’s something in his tone that switched, something that makes him less stoic. “There wasn’t a day that passed by without thinking about her and where she was.” I see Jan looking away for a moment, struggling to keep his composure. “I was scared her body had been burnt and that I’d never be able to bring her back home.”
The sadness in his tone moves me, and despite knowing Jan doesn’t have the best reputation, I’m glad to know that, at least, he genuinely cared about her.
* * *
Despite the romantic music playing on the backseats while Alex and I are on our way back to the estate, the phone call with Carice hasn’t left my mind. I remain steadily looking out of the window and wondering how I will ask my husband if he has anything to do with the disappearance of my mom. Well, there aren’t a thousand ways to do it, so I just turn to him and, after taking a few deep breaths, I break our comfortable silence and say, “Do you have any idea where my mom is?” His brows raise up, and he looks at me with some confusion in his gaze. “I mean, it has been nearly twenty days since she left me that message.”
“Didn’t you tell me she was taking some time off?” he asks, surprised.
“Yeah, but apparently she isn’t.” And I know at this point, I’ll have to tell him the rest. “Carice, her attorney, just called me asking if I knew where she was since the police are investigating her disappearance.” His expression remains just as serene, giving nothing away. “Do you have anything to do with it?”
“No, I don’t,” he answers, quite confidently. “I promised you I’d leave her alone, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Maybe your mom, Julia, or Sebastian know…”
Alex blows out a breath, annoyed at my insistence. “This is none of my business. If you want to know, ask them directly.”
His nonchalant tone doesn’t sit well with me. “It’s my mom we are talking about, and she might be held captive.”
“Petra, you are exaggerating…”
“I’m not,” I hiss back. “It has been twenty days, and no one knows where she is. Not even Anika.”
“Maybe your mom doesn’t want to be found. Have you thought about that?” he asks, his eyes pinned on mine. “People sometimes willingly disappear and leave society behind.”
I cut eye contact, my gaze returning to the window. At this point, it’s clear Alex won’t help me. And no, Mom isn’t the type of person who disappears without telling at least Anika, her loyal help of over twenty years, where she is going first. I know her well enough. Plus, if Mom was going on a trip, she’d have taken at the very least a suitcase with her; why didn’t she do that? I feel tempted to ask him that very same question, but it’d only bring more friction between us, and there’s no need for that.
My heart aches because I truly want to believe him, but I can’t… After all, when we were on the beach and I asked him about his phone call with Sebastian and Jan, he simply hid the fact that Jan had found his daughter’s body and they were hosting her funeral. Maybe he thought that wasn’t worthy to mention, but I’d have preferred to know it from him, rather than from a man I barely speak to.
Once we arrive at his estate, Alex starts talking to Stuart while I go to my bedroom, close the door behind me, and call Carice. I just hope it’s not too late for her.
“Hi, Carice?” I say, upon hearing her voice. “Um, I’m sorry calling you so late, but I just spoke to my husband. Um, he told me he doesn’t know where my mother is. But I think the police should check with Margaret, Yara, Sebastian, or Julia Van Den Bosch… They might be onto something.”