Her Sister's Secrets Read online

  I made a face. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Well,” he said, “it does mean that I won’t be telling you to let us handle it. And seeing as this Host person doesn’t seem to mean you any bodily harm, I don’t know if there’s any reason to be frightened on that front.”

  “You don’t? You don’t think maybe he’s a psychopath who wants to unleash me in the wilderness and hunt me to death?”

  “What?”

  “Um… nothing.”

  “I couldn’t speak to the motivations behind setting you up in that house like that,” he said. “But if he wished you harm, it seems as if he’s had a lot of opportunities thus far, so I think it’s likely you’re not in danger.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, that makes me feel better.”

  “But I could be wrong,” he said. “We simply can’t know. You still have my number, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good,” he said. “Here’s what I think we should do. I get that you’re determined to continue looking into this, and you’re not breaking any laws, so I can’t stop you. All I’d ask is that you keep me in the loop. If you find out anything else, call me, and if it’s something that does mean we can reopen the case, then I can be a liaison for you within the department, grease the wheels, if you will.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I don’t know what it is, Emilia, but I’m becoming oddly attached to unraveling what happened to your sister.”

  “Oh, my God,” I said. “You think she was murdered too.”

  “There’s no evidence—”

  “But you think it,” I said. “You think there’s something there.”

  “Find me some evidence, Emilia. Find me some evidence, and we’ll see.”

  * * *

  “So, what are you wearing to this wedding, anyway?” Phin was rummaging through my closet, pushing aside hangers to look at my wardrobe.

  I was lying on the bed in the bedroom, gazing up at the ceiling. I called into the closet. “I already got it out. It’s hanging on the back of the door.”

  He appeared a moment later, holding the dress that I had picked out. “It’s white.”

  “It’s got a red pattern on it.”

  “You can’t wear white to a wedding,” said Phin. “It’s totally rude to the bride.”

  “It’s not white,” I said.

  “I’m picking you out something else.” He went back into the closet, taking the dress with him.

  “Good,” I said. “You have better taste than me, anyway.”

  He snorted. “So, what’s going on with you lately? Finding out anything about Violet or the Host or anything?”

  “No,” I said. I was resolved not to tell Phin that I had accidentally kissed Jonah Fletcher. It had been an accident. I really hadn’t meant to do it. It was just that he’d been so close, and he had a sexy voice when it got all rumbly like that. It was a temporary lapse of judgment, that was all.

  But I did wonder if he was the Host or not. The way he’d reacted, it hadn’t quite seemed like it made sense. But he could have been pretending to throw me off, I supposed.

  Phin reappeared, this time holding a maroon wraparound dress. It was long and made of a filmy fabric that looked a little sheer.

  I raised my eyebrows. “That looks positively indecent.”

  “You wear this under it,” he said, pulling out another dress, this one a simple sheath dress with spaghetti straps. It was a light shade of blue.

  “I don’t even think those colors go together.”

  “Oh, trust me, it will look really great together.” He showed me, layering the outer dress over the other one.

  He was right. It actually did look great. “Okay, fine,” I said. “I’ll wear that.”

  He beamed at me. “Excellent.” He hung up the dresses on the front of the door of the closet and then came over to flop down next to me on the bed. “So, you’re nowhere, in other words?”

  “I’m not nowhere. I’m just not sure what to do next,” I said. “I need evidence of what happened to Violet, and I’m not even sure what that would be.”

  “Like a video of her murder or something?”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” I said, sighing. “But that’s not going to happen.” I sat up on the bed. “I’m going to figure out something. Maybe we’ll even find something out at the wedding tonight. We can ask around, see if anyone remembers Violet having any conflict with anyone.”

  “You said all these people knew her from work. And you said your sister was a consummate professional. I’m sure it would be a big deal for her to air her conflicts while she was planning their parties.”

  “So, it’s a long shot,” I said. “Doesn’t mean something won’t shake loose.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this DNA test,” said Phin. “You said you tried the website and you couldn’t figure out the password?”

  I nodded. “It was a total dead end.”

  “Well, I know this guy whose good at hacking passwords,” said Phin. “Except he said that the best way to do it is to set up this software that basically gets a tiny piece of the password every time it’s entered, and then over time, it puts it all together.”

  “What?” I was confused.

  “I don’t get it either,” said Phin. “He was using all these weird technical terms and—on top of that—he was really cute, so I kept getting distracted looking at him.”

  “Wait, who is this guy?”

  “He works in the IT department at the hospital,” said Phin.

  “Is he gay?”

  “Of course,” said Phin, giving me a withering look. “Please. Having crushes on straight guys is so me in undergrad. I am way over that.”

  I nodded. “So, are you going to ask him out?”

  “Maybe I already did,” said Phin. “I mean, how else do you think I got him to give me all this information on hacking?”

  “He’s a hacker?”

  “He’s a nerd. He knows about how to do it. I don’t know. He wears honest-to-God glasses. I just want to lick him.”

  I giggled.

  “Anyway, maybe if we knew who was using this password all the time—”

  “No one’s using it,” I said. “If it’s Violet’s, it’s defunct.”

  “Well, if the Host got the DNA test, then maybe he’s taken over the account.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t think this hacking idea is going to work.”

  “Where’s your laptop?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “Go get it,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “So that we can try more passwords.”

  “Oh, my God, Phin, that is not going to work.” But I got up anyway, and trooped down the stairs to scoop up my laptop. I went back upstairs and handed it to him. “You realize we could fit four of our apartments into this place?”

  “It’s big,” said Phin, opening my laptop. “What’s the website for the DNA testing company?”

  I flopped back down on the bed. “I’m going to feel so deprived when I have to leave.”

  “That’s how the evil Host is getting inside your head,” said Phin. “Seriously, what’s the website?”

  I told him.

  He typed it in. “Okay, where’s the DNA test?”

  I glared at him. “Are you kidding? You’re making me get up again?”

  “You probably need the exercise,” he said. “I need the ID number.”

  I got up off the bed again, and went downstairs to find the DNA test. When I picked it up, I stared at it again, shaking my head. I couldn’t believe that Violet was only my half sister. I couldn’t believe that my mother had neglected to tell us both this very vital fact before she died. I guessed she never wanted Roman Wainwright to have anything to do with us, and she didn’t want us to know. We certainly never talked about what had happened that night when I’d chased him off. I think she must have known that both Violet and I had blocked it all out.

 
I wondered if she could have blocked it out too.

  I doubted it. That would have been kind, and I didn’t think that the world worked that way.

  I headed back up the steps, more slowly this time. When I got to the top, Phin was sprawled out on his stomach, laptop in front of him. He put his hands on the keyboard. “Read me the ID number.”

  I read it.

  He typed it in. “Hey, there’s a ‘forgot password’ button. I’m going to hit it.”

  “How’s that going to help us?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just something to try.” He glanced up at me. “Hey, what happened to all of Violet’s stuff, like her phone and her computer? Do you have that stuff?”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Her phone was found on the beach with her stuff. It was waterlogged, and it wouldn’t turn on. I bet her laptop’s in her apartment. I haven’t gone in there. I know her rent was paid up through the end of the year, and I haven’t had the presence of mind to go and deal with all of that.”

  “Well, we should go there,” said Phin. “Because if this doesn’t work, then maybe she’s got her passwords saved on her computer, you know? Plus, there could be lots of information about all kinds of things that would help with finding out with what happened to her.”

  He was right. I nodded. “Okay. Will you come with me?”

  “Definitely,” he said. He looked back at the screen and hit the button. A grin spread across his features. “Jackpot!”

  “What?” I sat down next to him so that I could look at the screen too.

  No online account has been set up for this ID number, it read. Set up account now?

  My eyes widened. “No way. We couldn’t be so lucky, could we?”

  “Apparently, we are,” he said, clicking the button to set up an account.

  Please verify your testing lot number and date of test, read the screen.

  Phin held out his hand. “Give me the test.”

  I handed it over.

  He filled in the information it wanted, all of which was easily found on the printout we had. Then he set up a password and an email (mine) for the online account.

  We were in.

  Welcome, Taylor Bolton, said the screen.

  “What?” I said. “Why does it say that name?”

  Phin scrambled into a sitting position and hunched over the laptop. He clicked on a link on the side and a similar report to the printout we had filled the screen.

  No, it wasn’t similar, it was the same report. Exactly the same.

  Except all the places that had Violet’s name? It didn’t say Violet’s name. It said the name of this Taylor Bolton person.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Phin was pacing. “So, this test doesn’t belong to Violet?”

  I was scrutinizing the printout. “I think the font on her name is just a little wrong. Here, look at the ‘e’s.”

  Phin snatched the printout from me. He looked at what I was looking at. “It’s been faked. Someone stuck her name onto this DNA test. This isn’t Violet’s test, it’s this Taylor person’s test. What the hell?”

  “Who would do that?” I said. “Why would they do that?”

  “I don’t know,” said Phin. He started to pace again. “This is incredibly weird.”

  I picked up my laptop and typed Taylor Bolton’s name into a search engine. A second later, results filled the screen. There was a Taylor Bolton in California who owned a cupcake shop. I didn’t know if that was the same Taylor Bolton or not. There was a Taylor Bolton who won a spelling bee last week in Nashville, Tennessee. I didn’t think that was the right person, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “What are you doing?” said Phin.

  “Looking up Taylor Bolton,” I said. “It’s kind of a common name.”

  “Uh… try googling Taylor Bolton and Violet’s name,” said Phin.

  I did.

  “Well?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “It’s coming up with the same results as before, just underneath it has Violet’s name crossed out.”

  “Taylor Bolton and Roman Wainwright,” said Phin.

  I tried that. The results came back. “Oh, whoa,” I said.

  “What?” said Phin, sitting down next to me.

  “It’s a list of people who worked at a big Christmas party at the Wainwright house,” I said. “Taylor Bolton is on it. Not only that, there’s someone called Molly Bolton. They both are listed as full-time staff.”

  “Huh,” said Phin. “When was this party?”

  “Um…” I scrolled up. “About ten years ago, it looks like.”

  “After you left,” said Phin. “So, you don’t remember anyone named Taylor Bolton working at the house?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

  “There’s nothing else?”

  I went back to the search results. I found a couple of other similar lists for earlier Christmas parties, but nothing beyond that. And there was nothing to further identify Taylor Bolton.

  “You know who might know?” I said. “Liza. She’s been at the Wainwright house for all this time. She’d remember this Taylor person.”

  “Who’s Liza?”

  “She’s the cook at the Wainwright house,” I said. “Come on, let’s go see her.”

  * * *

  “I don’t know,” said Phin for probably the tenth time. “You really think it’s cool to just sneak up on the back of this house and go in the back door without announcing ourselves?”

  We were walking up the beach toward the Wainwright house. “Of course it’s cool. Who would mind?”

  “Maybe the people who own the house?”

  “Well, Roman’s dead, and Drew and I are like this.” I showed him two intertwined fingers. I mean, I hadn’t seen Drew since he passed out on my couch, but that was the kind of experience that tended to bond two people.

  “So, fine, let’s go to the front door,” said Phin.

  “No, I’d rather avoid running into Drew if I can help it,” I said.

  “I thought you two were like this.” He intertwined his own fingers.

  I sighed. “Okay, well, yeah, but he’s, like… high maintenance, you know? Every time I see him, it’s this big emotional thing, and I just want to focus on this Taylor Bolton person.”

  “If it’s not Violet’s DNA test, he deserves to know. That would mean that Violet isn’t his sister.”

  “True,” I said. “I think that would make him feel better. But I’ll tell him another time. You know, maybe we’ll run into him later, at the wedding.”

  Phin got out his phone to check the time. “We don’t really have a lot of time before the wedding, you know?”

  “I know,” I said. We approached the door to the kitchen. “We’ll just pop in and talk to Liza real quick, and then we go back and get dressed.”

  Phin made a face.

  I rapped on the kitchen door. When no one answered, I turned the knob, and it opened. I stuck my head inside the kitchen. “Liza?”

  She appeared in the doorway, across the room. “Emilia? What are you doing here?”

  I went inside, dragging Phin after me.

  “You’re lucky I was down here,” said Liza. “We never use this kitchen unless something big is going on. I use the regular kitchen upstairs, and these days, Drew hasn’t been hungry much, so I’ve been giving him leftovers rather than making anything new.” She pointed. “Who’s this?”

  “Oh, this is Phineas,” I said.

  Liza smiled, crossing to shake hands with him. “Well, it’s so nice to meet you, Phineas. I must say, you two make quite a cute couple.”

  “Oh,” I said, shaking my head. “Oh, no, we’re just friends.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” said Liza.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “I just stopped by to ask you a question. It’s about someone who used to work for the Wainwrights. Taylor Bolton.”

  Liza furrowed her brow. “Taylor? Now, I remember Molly, but—oh, I think Taylor was the daughter.”

 
; “What?” I said.

  Liza tapped her chin. “Let’s see, it was probably a few years after your mother left that they both arrived. And Molly was, um, she had history with the family? As I understood it, she was the daughter of a private tutor who had taught Roman when he was young. So, she needed a job and came back, but you know what’s really odd about it?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Just in light of what happened with your sister is all,” said Liza. “Molly drowned to death. It was probably ten years ago.”

  My whole body went cold. “Drowned?”

  Liza nodded. “Yes, it was horrible. By that point in time, her daughter Taylor was working for the family as well, and she was devastated. But she pretty much disappeared after that. I don’t remember exactly how, but she stopped working for the family.”

  Well, this was all very interesting.

  But what did it mean?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Look, it obviously means that whatever happened to Violet, it’s got something to do with the Wainwrights,” I said. We were upstairs in my house, getting ready for the wedding. “She drowned and Molly drowned. It’s connected.”

  “Yeah, seems that way,” said Phin, who was buttoning his dress shirt. “I guess it could be a coincidence. I mean, people do drown in the ocean.”

  I was already wearing my dress. Now, I was sorting through the jewelry in the jewelry box on the bureau. “I guess, but this is suspicious,” I said. “And if Taylor is Roman’s daughter, like the DNA test suggests, then maybe Roman had a reason to drown Molly. I mean, maybe Molly was raped by Roman, and she was threatening to tell, so he killed her. Maybe he’s murdered all kinds of people to keep his filthy secrets.”

  “It just seems like, if he was going to do that,” said Phin, “that he would have come after your mother. Or even you, right? Because you saw. You knew.”

  “That’s true,” I said.

  “Anyway, why would the Host have this Taylor person’s DNA test and try to make it look like Violet’s?” said Phin. “To me, it makes it more likely that the Host actually had something to do with Violet’s death.”

  “What? Why?”

  Phin was wrangling his tie. “Maybe he knew about the similarities between Violet and Taylor, right? Both mothers worked for Roman, both were raped by him—”