The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (71 page)

“So, how many did you get on the guest list?” Noelle asked Kiran.

They were sitting on Noelle’s unmade bed, books open but ignored. All they’d been talking about since we’d commenced our study session was their off-campus jaunt. Some club called Orchid in New York that only celebrities and debutantes could get into. The V.I.P. room. Five-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne. Limos waiting for them in town. They had it all set up. Too bad it was never going to work.

“Just twenty,” Kiran replied. “We’ll have to be very selective.”

I tried not to shake my head at their total obliviousness. Did they really think they were going to sneak twenty people off campus right now? Had I not told them about the new security camera on the front gate, in full view of their little hole in the fence? Maybe they had the ability to become invisible. Another Billings Girl secret. When you reach junior year, you’re given your superpowers.

“Believe me, I want to keep this small,” Noelle told her. “The more selective the better.”

“That’s what I like to hear. So who are we including?” Kiran asked. Her thumbs were poised over her BlackBerry, ready to take down the pertinent information.

Noelle straightened her legs and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “
Not
Cheyenne. Let’s start there.”

“Fabulous decision.”

“Girls. Let’s not be rude,” Ariana said in her stern voice.

“She’s not going to come anyway,” Kiran told her.

“All the more reason to extend the invitation,” Ariana replied coolly. “It’s always better not to burn bridges. You never know who Cheyenne might become.”

“I already know. The frigid, cuckolded wife of some repressed gay senator,” Noelle said. She and Kiran laughed, and Kiran dragged her hand across Noelle’s.

“Charming,” Ariana said.

Noelle rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll invite her,” she said. But when Ariana looked down again, Noelle shook her head at Kiran ever so slightly. Kiran smirked. Dissension in the ranks. Who knew?

“Okay, so, the four of us,
Cheyenne
,” Kiran said, half-laughing. “Who else?”

“Uh, you guys can leave me out of it,” I told them.

The room fell silent. I continued to pretend to read as if I hadn’t just kiboshed the merriment.

“You’re not serious,” Noelle stated.

“I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to party right now,” I told her without looking up.

I could feel them looking at one another.

“God, Reed, why don’t you get over yourself already?” Kiran said.

My face stung. “Excuse me?” I blurted, turning to her.

“Sorry. I don’t think I meant to say that out loud,” Kiran told me, looking surprisingly chagrined.

Noelle shot her a look that could have wilted steel. “I think that what Kiran means to say is, you need to find a way to get past this,” Noelle said. “And I think that this night is exactly what you need.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that,” I replied. “I just don’t agree.”

“Look, Reed, I know things have sucked lately,” Noelle said.

I snorted.

“Okay, that’s an understatement, but I don’t know what word would cover it, so just go with me on this, okay?” she said, pushing herself off her bed. “I know things have sucked, but that’s exactly why we have to get out of here. This place has nothing but bad vibes lately. Don’t you just want to get away from it for a few hours?”

“Of course I do,” I told her. “But I can’t do that until—”

“Until what? Until Josh is free?” Noelle said. “Even if he is found innocent, that could take months. What are you gonna do in the meantime? Just sit around here and wallow?”

“She’s right. It’s not good for your health,” Ariana said, closing her book.

“Not to mention your complexion,” Kiran put in.

I wanted out of this conversation. Especially in the next moment, when Noelle’s eyes narrowed and took on that wicked sheen.

“Or maybe you just want to stay home so you can sneak out in the middle of the night again,” she said.

Of course. Of course she knew I’d left the dorm the other night. Why did I ever think I could get away with it? Ariana and Kiran both looked surprised, however, so Noelle hadn’t shared this information with them.

“When are you going to get it into your head, Reed?” Noelle said. “I—”

“Know everything. I know,” I said tersely. “It’s in my head already, believe me.” I stood up, ignoring the ire on her face at being interrupted, and quickly gathered my things. “Let me ask you this. Do you know
where
I went?”

I didn’t even know I was going to ask her that until the words were out of my mouth. But then I realized I had to know. Was she aware that Dash and I were sneaking around together in the middle of the night? Did she know why? Were we both in for some kind of retribution?

But as I watched, her defiant expression faltered slightly and I knew. She had no clue what I’d been doing. She was hoping I’d panic and tell her. So that she would be fully in the know, as she so loved to be.

“Guess not,” I said, savoring that moment. That one moment
when I actually knew for sure that I knew more than Noelle. “In case you haven’t heard, I haven’t really been sleeping lately. Running calms me. So there you go. Now you’ve got all the facts. Enjoy.”

I was already halfway across the room when she spoke again.

“You’ve been acting like a serious bitch lately,” she said.

I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “What are you gonna do, Noelle? Kidnap me again? Force me to do some stupid errand? Kick me out of Billings?” I looked her dead in the eye and, even though I didn’t fully believe it myself, part of me very much wanted to say it. So I did. “Do whatever you want. I really don’t care anymore.”

For once all three of them were stunned into silence.

Dash had never been to the art cemetery before. As I sat on the one divan, fiddling nervously with the key he’d lifted from Josh’s room to get us in here, he strolled along the walls, admiring the rows and rows of artwork by the dim light of the one lamp we had dared to turn on. He’d risked everything sneaking into Josh’s police-taped dorm to get this thing, and later he’d have to risk it again to sneak it back in so that the cops wouldn’t notice it was missing. Yet there he was, his hands clasped behind his back as he strolled, like he was checking out a new SoHo gallery, instead of waiting for his dead best friend’s brother to show up under false pretenses he’d concocted, after which he’d have to go back to his dorm and break the law. Again.

“What if he doesn’t come?” I asked. My heart was pounding in my bones. My skull throbbed. My fingers were moist. I was a Ping-Pong ball of nerves.

He leaned in closer to an abstract painting, inspecting the signature. Infuriatingly composed. “He’ll come.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” I clutched the key. Let it cut into my palm. “What do we do next?”

“Trust me. I know Blake Pearson.” There was a slight laugh in his voice. “He’ll come.”

“How can you be so calm?” I asked finally.

“Meditative focus,” he answered. “My older sister’s kind of a New Age guru. Some of the stuff is actually useful.”

“Your sister. A New Age guru,” I said.

He turned to me and smiled. “Kind of the black sheep of the McCafferty clan.”

“I can only imagine.”

A door clicked out in the hallway. We both heard it. I got to my feet, my heart slamming against my rib cage. As the footsteps approached, I shoved my sweaty hands into the back pockets of my jeans and stood next to Dash. His size was comforting.

The door across the room opened. Blake Pearson stepped inside. He was different than I remembered him from Thomas’s wake. He wore a casual sweater and coat and distressed jeans over hiking boots. His black hair was mussed and curled at the ends, which made his face look less thin. There was more color in his skin as well, but that could have been due to the extreme cold. He froze the moment he saw us, his blue eyes like ice picks. I looked up at Dash. Dash opened his mouth, and Blake turned to go.

Just like that. Without a word.

“Wait!” Dash shouted.

It was so loud I was sure the Easton security force was about to
descend. But it had its desired effect. Blake stopped. Dash took the opportunity to cross the room and get between Blake and the door.

“We just want to talk to you, man,” Dash said, raising his hands.

“Oh really?” Blake said. “About what?”

My heart shriveled and I had to gasp for air. His voice was exactly like Thomas’s. I hadn’t heard it in so many weeks, but I recognized it instantly. I backed up against the wall and blinked back the tears of shock. Pain.

“What’s wrong with her?” Blake asked, with a dismissive glance.

“You all right?” Dash asked me.

I managed to nod. “I’m fine. Go . . . go ahead.”

“You’re sure.” Dash was always the gentleman.

“I’m fine,” I repeated firmly.

“All right. We know you were here that night, Blake,” Dash said. “Why haven’t you gone to the police and told them what you know?”

Blake crossed his arms over his chest. “All right, McCafferty, I’ll bite,” he said. “What do I know?”

“That Josh is innocent,” Dash said, frustrated. “You and Hot Secretary are his alibi.”

“Her name is Cara,” Blake said, his eyes flashing with fury.

“Right. Sorry. Well, maybe you and Cara can do the right thing here,” Dash said.

“The right thing? What are you, still living in black and white?” Blake said, pacing away. “If I go to the police, then everyone’s gonna find out about me and Cara. She’ll be fired, her husband will divorce her, and it’ll be yet another scandal for Easton. As far as I’m
concerned those are three very good reasons to keep my mouth firmly shut.”

“No,” I heard myself say.

“What?”

Blake truly looked at me for the first time. My knees felt like they weren’t even there anymore, but somehow I pushed myself away from the wall.

“You have to tell,” I said. “You have to. Josh’s
life
is on the line here. I think that trumps your need to protect your mistress.”

“Reed,” Dash said.

“No. I’m right, aren’t I? I mean, Josh could go to jail for the rest of his life and you’re worried about your precious Cara’s husband finding out that she’s cheating? Well, news flash! She
is
cheating! Maybe she deserves to get a divorce!”

“That’s it. I’m outta here,” Blake said, gunning for the door.

“Don’t you even want to know who really killed your own brother?” I blurted. My fingers curled into fists. Blake paused. For a moment I thought I’d actually gotten through to him.

Then he laughed. He tipped his head back and laughed. Loudly. Openly. Evilly.

“This is unbelievable!” he said. “Thomas is dead and he’s
still
fucking up my life!”

Cannonball, this is my gut. Gut, meet the cannonball.

“What?” Dash blurted, his face contorted with disgust.

“Oh, come on, Dash, don’t be so naïve! You know what life was like with Thomas around,” Blake ranted, spittle appearing at the corners of
his lips. “Him disappearing for days at a time. My parents getting woken up in the middle of the night by phone calls from some random police station in Miami or Vegas or freakin’ Columbus, Ohio? Him showing up for events late, trashed out of his mind, making scenes, embarrassing my parents, embarrassing me!” He pounded his chest with both hands. I could feel the pain coming off of him in waves, the pent-up rage just bursting to come out. I knew what it felt like. Thomas had known what it felt like. Damn if the Pearsons didn’t raise two very angry kids. “Thomas was a pointless waste of existence, and all he did was screw up the lives of everyone around him.”

Blake paced around the small couch and sat down on the edge of it. Dash didn’t move, but I could see his chest rising and falling, like he was trying to contain something huge. I hoped that meditation thing was as good as he believed it to be.

“Take this situation, for example,” Blake continued, once he’d caught his breath. “Cara has refused to speak to me ever since the night of Josh’s arrest. She’s the love of my life and she won’t even take a call from me. When I got that e-mail I thought . . .”

He trailed off and my heart broke for him. Just a touch. He clearly loved Ms. Lewis-Hanneman, as strange as that seemed to me. It was obvious by the torment in his eyes. And all we’d done here was give him false hope.

“Thomas is dead, and still he managed to fuck up the one good thing in my life,” Blake said stoically. He stood up and turned to face me. “So to answer your question, no. I don’t really care who killed him.”

My stomach heaved. I had to swallow a dozen times to keep down whatever was trying to come up. There was pity on Blake’s face before he turned to Dash again.

“Are we done here?” he said.

Dash said nothing. He’d gone catatonic. I knew the feeling. He didn’t make any move to stop Blake as he slipped by him out the door. It wasn’t until the outer door of Mitchell Hall slammed again that either one of us moved. I leaned back and slid down the wall until my butt hit the floor.

“What just happened?” I croaked, unable to blink or turn or do anything but stare straight ahead. Straight at the spot where Blake had stood just moments ago.

“I had no idea,” Dash replied. “I always knew those two hated each other, but I thought it was just sibling-rivalry hate. Not real I-want-you-dead hate.”

Dash sat down on the couch and hung his head in his hands. Our best hope to help Josh had just walked out the door and was probably already speeding south on Interstate 684.

“What do we do now?” I said.

Dash took a deep breath. “I have no idea.”

I hadn’t spoken to Josh in nine days, and that was including him shouting to me across a crowded police station. Was he okay? Was he scared? Were they allowing his parents and his brothers and sisters to see him?

Was he thinking about me?

These questions occupied most of my brain space that Saturday night while I sat in front of the television in the parlor. Around me other Billings Girls studied, chatted, and laughed. Only a few, since most were upstairs getting ready for Noelle’s off-campus romp. At least I had put to bed the question of whether or not I was going. The dirty-hair ponytail, ripped plaid pajama pants, and a Penn State sweatshirt had to be dead giveaways of my mood.