The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (148 page)

Noelle’s house, however, was astonishing. It was like a full-blown mansion nestled in the middle of an otherwise unassuming block.
From the outside it looked like a posh apartment building with its grand staircase and big, red door complete with a gold knocker. It looked large enough to be divided into eight or ten units. But it wasn’t. It was one unit. One, huge, gorgeous, pristine, divine unit.

Sabine and I must have looked like awed tourists at Versailles as Noelle led us through the foyer toward the back of the house and the elevator. We all shed our coats as we went, and handed them to one of three waiting maids, who followed after us silently. I almost tripped peeking into the rooms that lined the long entryway—a library with more books than the Croton library could ever hope to own, a conservatory with a grand piano, a sitting room like something out of an Austen novel. This place was sick.

But no one else seemed to notice. Not even Constance. Which made me wonder what their houses were like.

Noelle’s room, where we would all be staying that night, was situated on the fourth of five floors. In fact, her room
was
the fourth floor. It was more of a suite, with an enormous bedroom, a sitting room with a TV the size of a movie screen, a walk-in closet with rows and rows of clothes, and a pink-marble bathroom I could have gotten lost in. It also had a mini kitchen stocked with snacks and a state-of-the art espresso machine, and its own outdoor patio overlooking the park. My whole family could have lived in Noelle’s suite comfortably.

“All right, make yourselves pretty!” Noelle announced, tossing her bag and dress on her four-poster bed. “Use whatever you need. Except the stuff in my special cosmetics cabinet. Oh, but I had a lock put on that anyway. Since I don’t trust any of you,” she joked.

Everyone laughed and went about unpacking their things. We didn’t have much time before the start of the dinner and silent auction, so we dressed quickly, all sixteen of us in the same room—zipping each other’s dresses, clasping necklaces, buckling straps on shoes. As soon as everyone was clothed, there was a race for the bathroom and dressing rooms with their well-lit mirrors. I stayed behind with Noelle. My makeup had already been done by a professional.

“Noelle, this place is amazing,” I said, walking over to the glass sliders that led to the patio. The short hem of my gold dress skimmed my thighs and the smooth fabric made me feel decadent. “Not what I would have imagined, though.”

“No?” she asked, fastening a sparking sapphire necklace around her neck as she joined me. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not a huge mess,” I replied with a smirk.

She smiled in return. “I have my own staff, Reed. Believe me, this place did not look like this when last I left.”

She turned to an oak cabinet and slid open the doors. “Music?”

Inside was a sleek stereo system surrounded by shelves and shelves of CDs and old-school records. An iPod was hooked up to the system, but there was also a CD player and a record player standing by.

“Wow. I had no idea you were so into music,” I said, running my fingers along the spines of the albums. A lot of my dad’s favorite classics were represented. Everything from the Beatles to the Doors to the Clash to U2 and hundreds of bands in between.

“It’s my obsession,” Noelle said, shrugging. She selected a CD and popped it in. “Concerts are my anti-drug,” she said with a wry smile.

As music poured through speakers in every corner and Noelle disappeared into her closet for shoes, I realized there was a lot I didn’t know about her. Did she like to read? If so, what? What did she like to watch on that huge TV screen of hers? And I knew she liked to travel, but where? What did she and Dash do together for fun? Maybe we weren’t as good friends as I had started to believe we were. But I could remedy that. Starting now.

I reached into my bag for my new perfume and popped off the cap. “So, what was the last concert you saw?” I shouted to be heard in the depths of her closet.

I spritzed the perfume just as Portia, Rose, Tiffany, and Sabine returned from the bathroom, gabbing away. The scent filled my senses and I instantly gagged.

Cheyenne. It smelled like Cheyenne. The scent was in my nose, on my clothes, in my hair, floating in the air all around me. Cheyenne’s scent. Cheyenne’s signature sweet, flowery scent. The other girls froze in their tracks.

“Did you just spray Fleur?” Rose asked, confused.

“That’s a little weird, Reed. Cheyenne’s perfume?” Portia said.

“No! I—”

I glanced down at the bottle. It was a small round atomizer with the word F
LEUR
printed across it in smoky white letters. Where had this come from? I hadn’t packed this. I checked the bag I’d extracted it from to make sure it was mine, and it was. My pajamas, my book, my makeup bag.

“I didn’t bring this,” I said, feeling dizzy. The scent was in my
head now. Making me foggy even as my heartbeat pounded against my chest. “I packed the bottle I bought at Barneys last weekend. I swear. It was called Free, remember?” I said, looking to Sabine for confirmation.

“Well, maybe you picked up this one instead when you were packing,” Sabine replied, looking a little concerned.

“No. I don’t own any other perfume,” I snapped, feeling like a caged dog. “That was the first bottle I’ve ever bought.”

Noelle emerged from the closet at that moment and saw everyone staring at me. “Reed? What’s wrong?”

I took a couple shaky steps back and dropped onto the edge of her bed. “This isn’t mine. I didn’t bring this. I didn’t buy it. I would never . . . I’d never want to smell like . . . Somebody must have put it in my bag.”

I looked up at all of them, wide-eyed, my pulse visible in my wrists, and they simply stared back, disturbed. Disturbed and confused and worried.

“Reed, why would anyone put Cheyenne’s perfume in your bag?” Tiffany asked.

“I don’t know!” I wailed, shaking and on the verge of tears. Her scent was all over me. Choking me. “Why would anyone do any of the things they’re doing? Why would anyone—”

I stopped abruptly, realizing I’d said too much. A few of the other girls had joined us now and everyone was watching me as if I were an escaped lunatic.

“What things?” Rose asked, hugging herself.

I glanced around the room. I couldn’t tell them. They were going to think I was insane. And maybe I was. Maybe I was losing my mind.

“I have to get out of this dress,” I said, standing and grabbing for the zipper behind my neck. My hands were so slippery with sweat they couldn’t grasp the zipper. “Get me out of it. Somebody unzip it!” I demanded.

Constance rushed forward and undid the zip. Cool air rushed all over my skin and I let it fall to the floor, kicking it aside. “I can’t wear that. It smells like her,” I rambled, standing in front of all of them in my one and only set of lacy underwear. Goose bumps covered my bare skin, and I was starting to lose my breath. “I can’t wear that. I have to wear something else.”

“Reed, calm down.” Noelle broke through my line of horrified onlookers and grasped my arm. “You can wear something of mine. It’s all good.”

“Are you okay?” Sabine asked, as Noelle led me back through the crowd toward her closet. “Do you need anything?”

“Just get rid of that bottle. I don’t care what you do with it,” I said, gasping for air. I glanced at the offending bottle that I’d left on Noelle’s bedspread. “Just get rid of it.”

As soon as we were inside the closet, Noelle closed the door and sat me down on a suede bench between racks of clothes. Tears stung my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I braced my hands on the bench at my sides and squirmed, gasping for air. The photo and the black marbles and the clothing and the e-mails and now this. It was all too much.

“Reed, you have to breathe,” Noelle told me, kneeling in her black dress in front of me. “You’re freaking me out here. Please breathe.”

I gulped for air, but it stopped at my throat. It wouldn’t go through to my lungs.

“Put your head between your legs.”

She forced my head down and I saw spots, but the next breath hit home. My lungs burned as I sucked in air and coughed, tears of pain now coursing down my face, dropping onto the thick white carpet at my feet.

“That’s it. Breathe,” Noelle told me in a soothing voice. “Breathe.”

When I finally started to return to normal, I sat up and took in a nice, long breath of air. I wiped my eyes and came away with black streaks. So much for my professional makeover.

“Better?” she asked.

I managed to nod.

“
What
is going on?” She got up from the floor and sat next to me. “What was that all about?”

I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t. I had just earned her respect. I couldn’t tell her that someone at Easton was screwing with me. Or that I was quite possibly losing my mind. I couldn’t show her just how vulnerable I was. Not now.

Suddenly, now that my head was clear, I remembered. Remembered seeing Ivy just before we left Easton, beating a hasty retreat away from Billings. All our bags had been stacked outside for at least fifteen minutes. She could have done this. She could have switched out my bottle of Free for a bottle of Fleur. After all, she could have
easily figured out which bag was mine—my initials were embroidered on it. It had to have been her. It was the only explanation that made any sense.

“Reed?” Noelle prompted.

I looked up at my friend, at her concerned face, but I knew I couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not until I was sure. So I did something I’d found myself doing a lot lately. I lied.

“I don’t know. I don’t . . . I don’t know how that perfume got in my bag, but the second I sprayed it, I guess it just all came rushing back,” I replied. “Cheyenne always wore that perfume. I guess it just brought it all back so vividly—finding her body, how awful that day was. . . . I don’t know.”

Noelle pushed my hair behind my shoulder and ran her hand down the length of it in a comforting way. “Are you sure that’s it? There’s nothing else you want to tell me?”

“No,” I said, sniffling. “I just lost it for a second there. I’m sorry.” I stood up and squared my shoulders, trying to show her I was okay. “Are you sure you don’t mind me borrowing a dress?” Noelle stood as well and turned toward the section of her closet where little black dresses hung in neat rows. “Take your pick. As long as you’re sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I have to be. I have a fund-raiser to run.”

Noelle smiled in a proud way. “That’s my little—I mean, good for you,” she said with a nod, correcting herself. “I’ll go tell them you’re okay. You just get dressed and clean yourself up.” She picked up a
Charles David shoe box and extracted a small gold key from the toe of a stiletto heel inside. “You can even use the special cosmetics.”

“Thanks.”

I smiled as she slipped out and closed the door behind her. The moment she was gone, I sat down at the dressing table and stared at myself in the mirror. Eyeliner dripped down my face, and the cream blush that had been so carefully applied was all but gone. I looked like a sad clown who’d been caught in a rainstorm. Scary. Freakish. Insane.

How was I going to do this? How was I going to pull this night off while feeling like I was about to lose my mind?

I stared into my puffy eyes and took a deep breath. Outside, the Billings Girls were chatting happily, my frantic moment clearly forgotten.

“You have to do this, Reed. For them. For Billings,” I told myself, even as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. “You can get fitted for your straitjacket later.”

Noelle had been right all along. Loft Blanc was the perfect location for this event. It was simple. Minimal. Clean. Glamorous. And with the champagne flowing, the chatter filling the room, and the Twin Cities’ model brigade circulating in skimpy clothes with their placid expressions, it was all like one decadent work of moving art.

I saw all this. Processed it. But couldn’t appreciate it. All I could think about was the perfume.

The next time I saw Ivy I was going to make her confess. And then I was going to kick her ass. Enough was enough.

“Reed! Congratulations! This event is a smash hit!” Susan Llewelyn said, stopping by to double air-kiss me. Susan was one of the few Billings alumnae I actually knew.

“Thanks,” I said, surprised to see her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course!” she said, taking a sip of her champagne and tossing her short blond hair back.

“Where were you the day the board met to go over our case?” I asked. “We could have used a friend on the other side.”

Susan blinked and her ever-present smile briefly faltered. I got the distinct feeling she thought I had just overstepped my bounds. And maybe I had. But didn’t I deserve to know?

“The board felt that my presence would be a conflict of interest,” she said smoothly. “And to be honest, I thought it might be a good idea for me to lie low, considering my part in the whole Gwendolyn mess.”

“I see.”

In other words, she hadn’t wanted to be forced to take responsibility for telling us how to get off campus—for leading us to the Gwendolyn secret passageway in the first place. Suddenly, the level of respect I’d always felt for Suzel dropped a notch.

“Oh! I see an old friend! Gotta go!” she said gaily.

As she hastily scurried off, I wondered if anyone was ever what they seemed. So far, most of the people I had met at Easton had turned out to have at least two faces. Some many more.

“Champagne?” Marc asked, suddenly arriving at my side.

He pressed the cool flute against my bare shoulder and I smiled. For a November night, it was rather warm in here, and I was happy I had chosen something skimpy from Noelle’s collection. It was a black, halter-style swing dress with subtle pleats that fell a few inches above the knee.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling as I took the champagne flute from him.

“Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?” Marc asked.

He looked pretty amazing himself in his rented tux with its long, cocoa brown tie.

“You don’t have to say that,” I told him, downing half the champagne in one gulp.