The Lies That Bind (7 page)

Unlike 99 percent of kids my age, I didn’t have to be dragged out of bed that Sunday morning. I’d spent what was left of the night watching the numbers on my clock dissolve into each other, waiting for a new day that I hoped would bring me answers. After packing my bag, I fabricated a class project and managed to score a ride to the library with my dad. There was only one person who would know how to handle a text with a picture of a missing girl and a ransom demand of ending a secret society, and that was Ms. D. (Officer D. if you pissed her off.)

Station 9, the PB library, was my favorite building on campus and like the clock tower was featured as one of Pemberly Brown’s most notable landmarks. The gigantic, repurposed Tudor mansion had been built for Pemberly’s original headmistress and featured all sorts of hidden passageways and secret nooks. Ivy blanketed the surface, even in the winter months, and the building stood proud at the highest point on campus. Since it was the only building open twenty-four hours a day, a constant stream of kids trickled through the front doors at any given hour. Most were armed with heavy bags stuffed with actual work and what I considered the luxury of being able to tell their parents the truth.

Two years ago, I might have walked in their shoes, but as I waved good-bye to my dad, I realized I’d never again be one of those kids. The kind who could look their parents in the eye and tell them exactly what they were doing, where they were going. Well, at least not until I dealt with the warring societies that seemed determined to destroy my life.

Ms. D. was not at her normal post reading the morning paper, and the quiet was unsettling as I breezed through the door. Normally she’d make a joke without looking up, welcoming me as if she’d been waiting all morning for the moment I’d arrive. Today, the silence just added to the already cavernous pit in the bottom of my stomach. I craned my neck to peer through the hallway back to her personal office and saw Ms. D. rubbing at her eyes, her glasses resting on the desk in front of her. It looked like she’d had just as long a night as me.

A former PB history teacher, Ms. D. was now in charge of campus security. She was what my mom referred to as “big boned,” and although she was in her late sixties, she still beat most of the boys on campus in the annual arm-wrestling matches at the end of every school year. She also happened to be an alumna of the Sisterhood. Unfortunately now that Headmaster Sinclair, one of the Brotherhood’s more dickish alumni, was running the show at Pemberly Brown, she was demoted to night watchwoman. It was bullshit, obviously. But Ms. D. stuck around to keep an eye on the girls.

In the past, things had been pretty even, with the Sisterhood controlling the tunnels and all of the priceless information in the headquarters while the Brotherhood controlled the school administration via Headmaster Sinclair. But now that the Brotherhood had taken over everything, the balance of power was heavily weighted in the Brotherhood’s favor, and if their most recent exploits were any indication, they were getting reckless.

I pushed around the front desk and spilled into her office. “Ms. D., I’ve got to talk to you. It’s happening aga…” The words died on my lips the second I realized we weren’t alone.

Ms. D. raked a hand through her closely cropped gray hair and shook her head briskly. “Kate, you know Taylor Wright.” The girl standing in front of the huge desk whirled around. The first thing I noticed was that she wasn’t perfect. I realize that doesn’t sound like groundbreaking information, but it kind of was for Taylor Wright. Taylor was queen bitch of Pemberly Brown, the reigning princess of perfection. Her nails were always manicured in an understated ballet-slipper pink, her lips always glossed, her clothing pristine.

But today Taylor’s shirt was rumpled as though it’d been pulled from the bottom of the laundry bin or even slept in. Her white-blond hair appeared tangled, and tiny crescents of purple ringed her bloodshot eyes.

“What the hell…” I said, my brows pulled together, eyes narrowed.

“Before you begin streaming vulgarities, you need to understand that something awful has happened.” Taylor cut me off, her soft voice enunciating every syllable like a stage actor. I think that was the most consecutive words she’d ever said to me. The princess of perfection preferred to maintain an icy indifference to her subjects, and that didn’t involve a whole lot of small talk.

“Now, now, Taylor. Slow down. There’s no reason to drag Kate into this. She’s not in the Sisterhood and we can’t risk—”

“What risk exactly? The risk of expulsion to save my best friend’s life? She was there too that night, Dorothy. She heard Alistair’s threat. He said he was going to kill her.” Taylor’s voice was hysterical, and all at once I realized that I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten that picture last night.

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and pulled up the picture. I held the phone out so Taylor and Ms. D. could see it.

“Bethany,” I whispered.

Ms. D. sighed and the chair squeaked beneath her as she sank deeper in. Taylor’s face lit up. “They sent it to you too. You are already involved. If we confront them together, they will have to listen. They will have to—”

Apparently it was Ms. D.’s turn to interrupt. She lifted her hand to silence Taylor. Remarkably, it worked. In that moment, I had a whole new respect for Ms. D. I mean, I always knew she was a badass, but I had no idea she was capable of controlling
the
Taylor Wright. To be perfectly honest, up until that moment, I never realized Taylor could be controlled.

“Now, if I’m understanding this properly, you two were both on campus after hours participating in the very secret ceremonies that the school board president discussed at Grace’s memorial.”

Taylor and I nodded mutely.

“And it appears that Bethany was abducted by the Brotherhood at one of these events.”

We nodded again.

“As I’m sure you can both imagine, nothing would make the administration of this school happier than making an example out of students who disobey their new rule. And no one would make a better example than the two of you. Kate, you practically have a target tattooed on your forehead.” I considered my pink hair and bumpy history, especially with Headmaster Sinclair, and knew she was right.

“And Taylor…” Ms. D. put her glasses back on and turned in her seat. “You are a leader in this school, so in their mind, publicly disciplining you for participating in unsanctioned after-hours activities would pretty much guarantee no student would disobey their rules again.” Ms. D. shook her head and turned back to her computer. “The alternative is giving the Brotherhood what they want and dismantling the Sisterhood for good.” Ms. D. looked at Taylor and shook her head. “I think we can all agree that this isn’t an option.”

“But why not? What do you really have to lose?” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. The only thing Ms. D. and I ever disagreed on was the Sisterhood. She wanted me to join. To become one of the girls who protected the legacy of Sisterhood that the founders of Pemberly had established all those years ago.

After everything with Grace, Taylor had issued a standing invitation for me to join. And most girls would have jumped at the chance. On top of being the most popular girls in school, the Sisterhood had access to information and a powerful alumnae network that could pull unimaginable strings. They never failed a test because they always had the answers beforehand, and none of them ever got rejected from colleges or clubs because there was always someone to make sure they got in.

Being a Sister gave you complete access to pretty much anything you could ever want.

But none of that mattered. Not when I remembered the role they had played in Grace’s death.

“That is never going to happen, Kate. Never.” Taylor’s voice was barely above a whisper, but somehow her words still managed to scare me a little. When it came to the Sisterhood, Taylor was like a terrorist—willing to die for the cause.

Ms. D. nodded briskly. “You’re going to have to let me handle this, girls.” She said the words as she typed into the system. “Hmm,” she said, “I see they’re already one step ahead of us. Bethany has an excused absence all week, supposedly called in by her parents.”

“Impossible! Her parents are in Europe. It was forged by the Brotherhood. Obviously.” Taylor’s voice was steeped in frustration as she rose out of her seat, both hands on the desk for leverage.

“No, no, it’s actually better this way. The less the school administration knows about this, the better. I’ll have to go directly to the headmaster and tell him what his boys have been up to. Hopefully the security footage from that night will convince him it’s in his best interest to force them to cooperate. We’ll get her home.”

I sagged with relief. Ms. D. had everything under control. I knew she’d know exactly what to do. Unfortunately, Taylor hadn’t taken the news quite as well. She looked positively manic.

“Are you crazy? They have stolen my best friend. She has been tied up in a chair or locked in one of their disgusting closets, and you expect me to just sit tight while you negotiate with Sinclair? We have to find her before they make good on their threat.” It was the first time I ever remembered not having to strain to hear exactly what she was saying, Taylor’s stilted words dominating the small room.

Ms. D. appeared unfazed by Taylor’s diatribe. “These are teenage boys we’re dealing with here, Taylor. Not serial killers. Certainly accidents have happened in the past.” Ms. D. shot me an uneasy look. “But I’m confident they mean Bethany no harm. This is just more of their antics and games. I will figure out a way to get Bethany home safely without you two getting expelled.”

An ironic “Amen, sister” was on the tip of my tongue, but I snapped my mouth shut when I saw the look on Taylor’s face. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. Her hands shook and her lower lip quivered. But it was the tremor in her voice that got me. “I have to save her. You do not understand. This is my fault, and I need to save her.”

Oh God, I knew that tremor. I’d heard it in my own voice the night I lost Grace. And then I thought of the look on Grace’s parents’ faces at the memorial. I thought about the way her handwriting had looked in her favorite book, begging to be remembered. I thought about how much she’d loved this stupid jacket I was wearing.

And in that moment, as much as I hated to admit it, I realized that Taylor was right. The Brotherhood had taken another victim, and we had to at least try to find her. This was my first chance to finish what the Brotherhood had started a year and a half ago. My first chance to put things right.

“Thanks for taking care of this, Ms. D. Keep me posted.” I kept my tone light and did my best to ignore the shock and grief on Taylor’s face as I walked back toward the library.

“Kate, wait,” Taylor said, rushing out of Ms. D.’s office after me. I could barely turn around. It’s not that we were on bad terms. I had to admit, after everything that had happened with Taylor in the fall, I didn’t really hate her anymore. But we lived in two different worlds, and it was easier when we kept our distance.

“You heard Ms. D. She’s got it under control.” I said the words but didn’t believe them for one second.

“It is just that if anyone would understand, it is you.”

You don’t say.

“Look, Taylor, I’ll let you know if I get any more messages. I have to go.”

I left her standing outside the library, tears streaming down her cheeks, and felt a quick stab of remorse, but I was already planning my next move. Bethany’s house. Stat. Taylor would only slow me down, and something told me time was of the essence.

As I pulled up Bethany’s contact information on Amicus and plugged her address into my phone, a call came in from Liam. The second I saw his name, my stomach dropped. I was supposed to meet him at Jack’s Deli for breakfast. Crap. Crap. Crap.

“I’m so sorry,” I said without even saying hello. “I have this project and I forgot to call and, oh, Liam, I’m sorry.” Liam and I had an unofficial breakfast date every Sunday morning—the kind you know will happen without even having to ask, because he always pulls up in his Jeep at the same time, with the same smile, headed in the same direction. To make matters five million times worse, he had even unofficially reminded me last night. I was the worst.

“I get it. You forgot. It’s not a big deal. The streak was bound to be broken.”

Burned.

“I officially suck.” I pulled the phone away from my ear to catch a quick glimpse of the map and continued down Marchmont. If only Liam knew exactly how much I sucked.

“You’re not all bad,” Liam said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

Forgiven.

“Plus, there’s always lunch. Are you still on campus? I’ll pick you up.”

My first reaction was to duck, crouch behind the closest bush, fall to the ground on my belly, and army crawl to cover. I looked around frantically, as if thinking Liam might catch me in my lie and dump me immediately. “Um, I’m actually nowhere near being finished.” I scoured my brain for an excuse to end the phone call as soon as humanly possible. “But I’ll call you when I’m done, okay?”

Please
say
okay, please say okay, please say okay
.

“Um…okay,” Liam agreed in a halting voice, but I knew him well enough to know he didn’t really agree at all.

We hung up just as I approached Beef…er, Bethany’s front door. It didn’t quite feel right referring to her by her nickname when she was actively missing. Once she was safe, maybe. I rang the doorbell even though I felt pretty sure no one would answer. Taylor had said Bethany’s parents were out of town, and if Bethany really was missing, I assumed she wouldn’t be darting to open the door anytime soon. But still I waited, because I hadn’t really planned past ringing the doorbell.

No footsteps. No sounds.

I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through the glass panes situated at the side of the door. Looked like a normal house. Huge foyer. Stairs to the right. Dining room. Kitchen toward the back. And that’s when I noticed the flowers. On the table, a vase was tipped over, the flowers splayed across the wood, a few on the floor within a puddle of water. That was weird. Who left for out of town without picking up a knocked-over vase? Or how would a vase get knocked over in an empty house?

I tensed, the muscles in my arms stiffening. I knocked automatically on the window but got the same response.

Nothing.

I tried the door, which was locked, of course, so I went around to the back of the house, my senses heightened. It occurred to me that I probably shouldn’t be there alone, but I reminded myself that I’d only seen a tipped-over vase. It wasn’t like I’d seen a puddle of blood. And then one of the back doors came into view. Instead of being locked tight like the others, this one was slightly ajar.

My heart pumped furiously. Fight or flight? I stepped forward. Apparently I was fighting. I pushed the door open wider with my foot. If I kept one foot firmly planted on the back patio, I could escape if I needed to. At least that’s what I told myself.

“Hello?” After I said it, I realized maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. By calling out, I’d just announced my presence to whoever had left that door open, if they were still there.

Nothing.

I poked my head in, and Bethany’s kitchen and family room came into full view. I didn’t know how the Giordanos kept their house, but I was pretty sure it didn’t normally look like this. Just about every drawer was pulled open, and the contents spilled across granite counters and hardwood floors. Stools along the breakfast bar were overturned, and a few kitchen chairs lay on their side. My hands shook as I pulled the phone from my pocket and called the police. This was not right.

“Nine-one-one, what is the location of your emergency?”

“Um…I’m at 6711 Marchmont in Shaker Heights. I need to report a break-in.” My voice shook and I had to crouch to keep from feeling like I was going to pass out. “And a missing person.” And God only knew what else. Ms. D. was not going to be happy, but this had gone far enough. I mean, did we really know for sure that the Brotherhood had taken Bethany? Sure, they had a motive to abduct her, but I couldn’t imagine why they’d want to trash her house. I was scared.

I heard typing as the dispatcher tracked my location and began a case file. “Do you know if anyone is still in the house?”

“No, I don’t think so. But I don’t know. I’m kind of freaking out,” I whispered. I moved farther away from the door at the thought of someone still being inside.

“Okay, I’m dispatching officers to the house right now. Don’t hang up. I need you to keep talking to me until they arrive.”

Within minutes I heard sirens, and a wave of relief crashed over me. And then dread because I knew how much explaining I would have to do. Not only to the police, but to my parents and Liam and everyone else. I rushed back around to the front of the house and met my dispatched officer. And I should have known right when I dialed a nine and then a one and then a one exactly who would be sent—because that’s just how it works out if you’re Kate Lowry. It was Detective Livingston.

The relief I’d felt just seconds before was replaced with frustration. I found myself thinking back to being in Detective Livingston’s office after I’d discovered exactly how Grace had died, after I’d handed him all of the proof about the societies and what they’d done to my friend, after he’d threatened to charge me with assault if I didn’t leave the Brotherhood alone.

But this was different. It had to be. He and his partner rushed past me and secured the area. They spent about ten minutes in the house before they came back outside.

“Sit tight,” Detective Livingston said, his smile pulled in all the wrong ways. “I just have to call this in and I’ll be right with you.”

There was absolutely nothing that man could have said that would make me trust him. Or sit tight. I waited a beat and then followed him toward the side of the house, where he whispered into his phone.

“Yeah, looks like someone tore the place up.” I edged closer to him, determined to hear every word. “Looks like someone was looking for something…Yeah, uh-huh…It’s definitely the same girl. Yup, we’ve got the other one with us.” Wait, the other one? What was he talking about?

He turned back toward the chair where they’d left me sitting in the front yard when they went in the house, clearly looking for me. I prayed he wouldn’t turn toward the bushes I was crouching behind. My prayers were answered when he started walking again. “Okay, if you’re sure. Thanks, Captain.” He ended the call and I scrambled back to the front yard before he caught me eavesdropping.

“It’s Kate Lowry, right?” Detective Livingston said, sugar sweet, tucking his phone back in the pocket of his uniform.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just that, my…um…friend is missing and there’s been all this weird stuff going on, and when I came to look for her, it looked like someone broke in. And I’m scared for her.” Tears welled in my eyes as I spoke, which made me want to scream. I just needed him to believe me. I needed him to
do
something
.

“Well, it looks like unforced entry. Whoever broke in had a key. Just some minor damage. More like some type of prank than anything else.”

Right.

“It’s up to you if you want to come down to the station to make an official statement, but we’d have to call your parents.” He leaned in close to whisper his next words. His breath was hot in my ear and stank of coffee and the cheap peppermints my great-grandmother used to keep in her purse. “But between you and me, I’d probably just head on home. The captain pulled some strings to stop them from pressing charges against you in the fall, but if you piss him off, those strings are real easy to unpull, if you get my drift.”

Yeah, I got the drift all right. Detective Livingston was the Brotherhood’s bitch. I thought about requesting a different officer to handle the case. Maybe a woman would listen to me. I mean, if the Brotherhood had people inside at the station, surely the Sisterhood had an alumna or two who’d be willing to help me.

And then I remembered Ms. D. She had specifically warned us about this. How deep did the corruption run? Pretty damn deep. She was right. We were on our own.

“Come on, you look like you could use a ride home. I’ll drop you off at the corner of your street so your parents don’t see.”

As much as I wanted to tell him exactly where he could put his offer for a ride, it was freezing and I was exhausted. I headed to his car without a word, only to find another passenger waiting in the backseat. Taylor. She was the “other one” the detective was referring to. She looked even worse than before, if that was possible. Her hair was pulled back now, and her eyes were rimmed in red as though she’d just finished crying.

The detective opened the door for me, and as soon as he shut it, Taylor launched into an explanation. “I was already at the station when you called,” she whispered. “I had one officer convinced this was real. That Bethany needed help. And then he came back with Detective Livingston, and I knew it was all over.”

“Don’t you guys have someone in the Sisterhood who can help?” I asked, my eyes narrowed at Detective Livingston, who was outside the car, signaling to his partner.

Taylor shook her head. “We did, but when they found out who she was, they fired her. They haven’t hired a woman since.”

Detective Livingston swung open the front door and gave us a long look in the rearview mirror. “I see you two know each other.”

We nodded.

“And I trust we won’t be hearing from you two again.” He smirked at his partner, who ducked his head as he climbed in the car.

I just looked out the window. They couldn’t arrest me for refusing to agree with their asinine statements. Apparently I was right, because when neither of us responded, the police officer just sighed and pulled his car out of the driveway. As we were turning onto Taylor’s street, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a text from Taylor.

Help me find her. Please.

I looked up and saw her blue eyes burning with the question: will you help? I turned toward the window and focused on the snow-covered trees as we pulled closer to Taylor’s house. Trying to find Bethany on my own was one thing, but teaming up with Taylor was something else entirely. Particularly since she had the power to end this if she really wanted her friend back. All she had to do was dismantle the Sisterhood. The fact that it wasn’t even an option made me hate Taylor. I would have done anything to save Grace. Anything.

The officer, true to his word, stopped a few houses away from hers to let her out. Detective Livingston put the car in park and walked around to Taylor’s door to let her out.

“Remember our deal.”

“I remember.” Taylor’s voice echoed with defeat, and I thought about that picture of Bethany, her trashed kitchen, her scream at Obsideo. I took my phone out of my pocket and tapped in the words as fast as I could so I wouldn’t second-guess myself.

Station 5 2morrow @open. We talk to Alistair.

I thought I would feel the sickness of regret the second I hit Send, but instead I felt something else entirely. I felt strong. I felt powerful. I felt ready to take on the Brotherhood. And for the first time ever, I felt like I might actually win.