Her Sister's Secrets Page 16

  “Well, we don’t know that Molly was raped.”

  “But it’s likely, given everything that we know about the bastard.”

  I selected two different necklaces and held them up, looking in the mirror. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “Okay, so, the Host has some other reason to kill Violet,” said Phin. “And then he thinks he’ll create this crazy wild goose chase for you to find out about Taylor and Molly and the drowning, and then you’ll blame Roman. But what he didn’t count on was Roman dying. So, then, when that happened, he sent you the message about it all being revealed, because it had all gone off script.”

  I chewed on my lip. “I guess it makes sense. He’d want to cover his tracks.”

  “And it means it might even be more dangerous for you to be here.”

  “Well, if he set all this up for me to find out,” I said, “then he doesn’t intend to kill me. He wants me to frame someone else for his crime. As long as he thinks that’s what I’m doing, then I don’t think he’ll hurt me.”

  “But you don’t know,” said Phin.

  “No, but I’ve never known,” I said. “And besides, Oliver said that I probably wasn’t in danger.”

  “Wait, who’s Oliver?”

  I showed the necklaces to Phin. “Which do you think of these?”

  “Who’s Oliver?”

  “Oliver Patterson,” I said. “He’s the police officer who’s looking into Violet’s case.”

  “I thought the police were no help.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And I gave Oliver crap for that, and he felt bad, so he’s been doing some checking for me, not that he’s found anything.”

  “Wait, what?” Phin laughed. “I think this Oliver person might have a thang for you.”

  I guffawed. “No freaking way, Phin. It’s not even like that. He really was a crappy police officer when I came in the first time.”

  Phin shrugged. “I don’t know. I happen to be of the male persuasion, and I can tell you that men come up with all kinds of dumb excuses to call people they’re into. Like pretending to feel bad and pretending to go above and beyond so that you’ll be grateful.”

  “That would be so unprofessional of him,” I said. I considered. He had actually been pretty unprofessional thus far.

  “I doubt he cares about that,” said Phin. He waggled his eyebrows. “So, is Officer Oliver attractive?”

  “I mean, he had that kind of clean-cut, dimpled thing going on for him, but…” I cocked my head to one side, thinking it over. “No way, Phin, you are way off base with this. He doesn’t like me. He’s just trying to make up for what he did the first time I met him. And it’s good, because I think I’m winning him to my side. I think he believes Violet was murdered too.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “He said he was becoming oddly attached to unraveling what happened to her.”

  “Or oddly attached to getting in your pants.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Shut it.”

  Phin tucked his shirt into his pants. “Both of those necklaces are utterly wrong, by the way.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I said. I held up one. “I really like this black one.”

  Phin shook his head. He crossed to the bureau and began sorting through the jewelry. “Look, I guess it’s a good thing you’re talking to this cop, though, because if anything dangerous happens, you can call him, right?”

  “Yeah, he gave me his personal work cell phone,” I said.

  Phin glanced at me over his shoulder. “He’s totally into you.”

  “Stop it, Phin. I’m not…” I squared my shoulders. “Violet was the sister that got all the male attention, you know? I was always the big, clumsy one.”

  He picked up a necklace that was on a long, silver chain. There was an amethyst pendant at the end. “Come on, Mila, stop being so hard on yourself. Ever since Trey, you’ve been all bitter about love.” He draped the necklace over my neck.

  I touched the pendant. “I like this one.”

  “Of course you do.”

  I stepped over to look in the mirror. It matched the outfit well. “It’s not about Trey. He was a jackass.”

  “He was.”

  “But…” I sighed. “It’s just that after a while, when I start examining all my failed relationships, I start thinking that there’s only one thing they all have in common, and that’s me. I’m the problem. Maybe I’m not relationship material.”

  “Bullshit,” he said. “I mean, you could say that about every unattached person, right? Would you say that about me?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Well, all my failed relationships have me in common too.”

  I laughed a little. “Okay, you’re right.”

  He held up some dangling earrings. “Matching earrings? You want them?”

  “Yes.” I reached out my hand.

  “You’re not going to get all depressed at this wedding, are you?”

  I glared at him.

  “Come on, we’re not even thirty. We have tons of time to meet Prince Charming. Tons.”

  “All I’m thinking about right now is Violet, okay?”

  * * *

  And I tried, really hard, to only focus on Violet during the ceremony, but Phin was right. Weddings were disgustingly depressing.

  Maybe it was because I’d watched my mother live without a man her whole life, I don’t know. My own father had disappeared and we’d never even really known him. And then my mother had never even shown interest in men afterward, which I now knew was because of Roman Wainwright, but at the time, I’d just thought maybe men weren’t worth it or something. My mother was happy enough. She had her daughters. She had Fluffy.

  Watching the wedding, all the pomp and circumstance and the vows and the promises of forever, it just made me sad, because it was like this thing that other people got that I didn’t. I was pretty sure that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life, no matter what Phin said about finding Prince Charming. I hoped I was wrong, but it seemed like the world was passing me by.

  When I was in my early twenties, it was no big deal. I didn’t want to be married too young, after all. I wanted to live, not be settled down.

  But then tragedy began hitting me in the form of my mother’s cancer, and then her death, and my relationships failed me, and I drove off my sister, and… Well, I felt really alone. I had to learn to survive on my own, and maybe I’d walled off that part of me that was even open to having a husband and a family and a future.

  After the ceremony, which had been held outside, looking down over the ocean, we all were herded to the reception, which was being held at Kimber’s father’s house. His house sat high up on a hill, surrounded by a green lawn. Below, there was a rocky beach. The reception was held under a tent strewn with twinkly lights and fronds of flowers. I expected that Phin and I would navigate this together, but I looked up from getting a glass of champagne to see that he was halfway across the tent, talking to someone who I didn’t even know.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. Phin was one of those people who could talk to anyone. If I went out to the bar with Phin, he’d end up friends with perfect strangers in a half hour flat. He had an easy way about him, and he had no fear.

  I knew that if I went over there, Phin would introduce me to his new friends, and I could be part of it, meeting all the people and having fun, but I had wanted to have Phin to myself a bit. Of course, my options were to be all alone or to follow Phin around, so I squared my shoulders and started across the tent.

  Jonah Fletcher stepped into my path. “Emilia. You’re looking lovely, as usual.”

  I hadn’t even seen him earlier. “Oh,” I said, feeling flustered. For some reason, I couldn’t do anything except look at his lips. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

  “Mmm,” he said. “I went to high school with Brett.” That was the groom.

  “You did?” I said. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Oh, yeah. The Lakethorn Priva
te School in Connecticut. Boarding school.”

  “But I thought…” I took a sip of my champagne. “You made an app.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Yes, I did. Does that somehow connect to high school?”

  “Just that I sort of assumed that you had, that you wouldn’t have been, um, affluent enough in high school…” I drank the rest of my glass of champagne. Damn it, I couldn’t even speak in front of this man anymore.

  “Oh,” he said, nodding. “You thought that I was a self-made man. That I hadn’t inherited my wealth.”

  I blushed. “I suppose it’s just very gauche to speak of such things.”

  “Indeed.” He smiled at me. “But I don’t mind your being gauche at all.”

  I glared at him. “You’re always insulting me.”

  “Yes, well, I’m a bit gauche myself. I do apologize.” He smiled. “The truth is that I did make the app on my own, and it was because I flunked out of college and my father cut me off, and so I decided that I would have to show him that I didn’t need him or his money. Which, at the time, I thought of as a grand rebellion, but was really exactly what he was hoping to spur me into doing, so I played right into his hands.”

  “I guess I can see that,” I said.

  He gestured to my drink. “This looks empty. Do you want a refill?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  He took my empty glass. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  I thought about running off. I didn’t know how to be around him, and I wasn’t sure I trusted him. He was sort of charming, and the more that I looked at him, the more attractive I thought he was, and I shouldn’t be thinking that, because it muddled my ability to assess him as a threat.

  But he was back with two glasses of champagne before I could leave. He gave one to me.

  I sipped at it, only because it was pretty full and I didn’t want it to spill. Champagne had a tendency to go right to my head, and I didn’t want to be too affected by the alcohol. I hadn’t forgotten my idea of talking to the guests about Violet and whether she had any enemies.

  “Have you given any more thought to having dinner with me?” he said.

  “Um, well, I’ve been very busy,” I said.

  “Really? Working on your blog?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you haven’t posted to it in quite a long time, not even to answer comments, and usually, you’re very active in the comment section.”

  I fiddled with my drink. “You’ve been paying a lot of attention to my blog.”

  “What can I say? I find that I can’t stop thinking of you lately.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “Sorry, I realize that’s a very cliche thing to say.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said. I was actually flattered.

  “Your recipes are good,” he said. “I haven’t made any myself. I’m hopeless in the kitchen, but I showed your blog to one of my friends who has a bit of a cooking hobby, and she’s been rather obsessed with recreating things.”

  “You did that? Really?”

  He shrugged. “I’m trying to figure you out.”

  “Well, I’m trying to figure you out too.”

  “I’m an open book,” he said. “Ask me anything.”

  “Really?” I took a drink of champagne. “Why do you have a gun?”

  His eyes widened. “How do you—”

  “I was looking around in your kitchen, because I like looking at kitchens, because I’m a kitchen person, and it was just there.”

  “Eavesdropping,” he said. “Going through my house. You really are trying to figure me out.” He sighed. “Listen, the truth is that the gun isn’t really mine. It was my father’s, and he left it to me, but I don’t really much like talking about him.”

  “Because he cut you off?”

  “Because…”

  I flinched, feeling stupid. “No, because you said he left it to you, so that means he’s, um, passed away, and so it must be painful. I’m sorry.”

  He hung his head, his nostrils flaring.

  I put my hand on his upper arm. “It’s all right. I understand. I know what it’s like to lose people.”

  He raised his gaze to mine. “Because of your sister.”

  I nodded.

  His gaze searched mine for several moments. And then he broke away. “You know, this is all probably a really bad idea. I don’t know what is possessing me to keep at this.”

  “What?”

  He smoothed the lapel at his jacket. “You’ve made it clear you’re not interested. And you and I have nothing in common. And clearly, I should just…” He blew out a huff of air. “If you’ll excuse me?”

  “Uh, sure, I guess.”

  He nodded. “Quite nice to see you.” And then he just walked off.

  I stared after him. I did not understand that man.

  * * *

  After Jonah left me alone, I decided I needed to find Phin. I started to wander around, trying to spy Phin amongst the crowd.

  But I couldn’t see him anywhere.

  I made a circuit of the tent, and then the surrounding areas, where there were clusters of people talking.

  Then the band started playing and the dance floor filled up, and I thought for sure that Phin would come out to dance.

  But no Phin.

  Instead, I found Kimber. She was a beautiful bride in a bohemian-looking dress with bell sleeves tipped in lace and a crown of flowers on her head. She looked so excited to see me. “Oh, it’s you, Emilia!” She ran for me and crushed me in a hug.

  I hugged her back.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she said, holding me at arms’ length. “I didn’t know if you would. It means so much to me. And to Brett.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’m happy to come. You look beautiful.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She pulled away and twirled in her dress. “I feel like a princess.”

  I laughed, because I remembered when we were little girls, how we all loved princesses, especially of the Disney variety. “You are a princess,” I said.

  She grabbed me again and kissed my cheek. “You’re so sweet. You were always sweet. You were the nicest of my friends when I was a kid. I was so sad when you guys moved away. I really was.”

  I believed her. “I was sad too.”

  “Well, that’s why it’s even better that we can reconnect now. We have to stay in touch. You have my phone number now, and we have to get together, sometime after the honeymoon. I mean it. I am abundantly serious.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. Although I very much doubted that was really going to happen. We lived such different lives.

  “Oh, you haven’t even met Brett, have you?” She looked around. “Where is Brett? Have you seen him? I haven’t seen him in like an hour.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I was actually looking for my friend Phin. You haven’t met him either.”

  “Am I keeping you? I didn’t realize you were on a mission.”

  “I’m not really,” I said. “I’m just kind of wondering where he is.”

  Someone approached us then, a woman who looked a little younger than us, wearing a flowered dress. “Oh, Kimber, you look gorgeous.” She gave Kimber a hug.

  “Thank you,” said Kimber, hugging back.

  They began to talk, and I edged my way out of the conversation.

  I went out of the tent again, and I started down over the hill toward the ocean. Out here, there were a lot of rocks separating the lawn from the beach. I saw some people down there talking, standing amongst the rocks, and I thought one of them might be Phin. As I got closer, I was sure of it.

  And then I recognized the other person. It was the groom, Brett. Huh. Kimber was looking for him, and here he was off with Phin. What were the odds?

  “…not gay,” Brett was saying as I got closer.

  “Oh, fine,” Phin replied, sounding annoyed. “You just like to go to gay bars and have butt sex with men, then?”

  What? I stopped in my tracks. Neither of them had seen me
yet. I froze, and they continued to speak.

  “No,” said Brett. “I only ever do blow jobs.”

  Phin threw up his hands. “Great, then. So that means you’re positively straight.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

  Okay, so I did remember that during the wedding, when Phin had seen Brett, he’d kind of reacted funny. But I’d asked him about it, and he’d said that he’d thought Brett was somebody else, but that he couldn’t be that person. But maybe, Brett was that person. Maybe Phin already knew him. What was going on?

  “It’s not really about that,” said Brett. “I think this whole idea of being gay or straight is really limiting. There’s no room in that mindset for experimentation.”

  “So, you’re bi?”

  “I’m not anything. I don’t like labels,” said Brett. “Anyway, I needed to get married or else wait until I was thirty-five to get access to my trust fund. And my grandfather made it pretty clear when I was a kid what he thinks of gay people. So, until he kicks the bucket, I’m not rocking that boat.”

  He had married Kimber for money? He was a gay man pretending to be straight for a trust fund? Oh, geez. I looked back over my shoulder at the tent, and I thought of poor Kimber, who seemed so genuinely happy. Should she know this?

  Apparently, my movement tipped them off, because I heard my name. I turned back.

  “Mila, what are you doing here?” said Phin.

  “Looking for you,” I said.

  “Oh, holy fuck, who’s this?” said Brett, looking panicked. “What did you hear?”

  “Hopefully everything,” said Phin. “And she and I are going to march up there and tell your bride all about it, because what you’re doing is appalling.”

  Brett’s eyes widened. “What? You can’t.”

  Phin was stalking across the beach toward me.

  Brett went after him and caught him by the arm. “What is your problem?”

  “I don’t know, maybe that you’re setting back the gay rights movement like twenty years?”

  “Come on, don’t be like that.” Brett shook his head. “I’m not even gay, so that’s crazy.’

  Phin yanked his arm away from Brett. “Don’t touch me.”

  Brett furrowed his brow at me. “I know you, don’t I?”