Page 20 of Tell Me Your Lies

I notice Mia isn’t saying anything. I’ve enlisted her as my spy. “Tell them what you discovered.”

“I know why she went home and it wasn’t because you made demands on her outside of her contract. It was personal.” Mia yawns. “I’m tired, Mom, do we need to discuss this now?”

They believe I don’t watch out for them but I still stay awake waiting for them to come home, late into the night. Mia slept through breakfast and looks like something the cat dragged in. Her hair is limp from sleeping with it wet all night. I’d heard the shower going, the pipes clank, and at night it seems louder. I guess she wasn’t too drunk to take a shower at least. I meet her gaze and nod. “We all need to know her secrets as she wants to know ours. Tell us what you know.”

“Not much, only what Dad told you. She’s adopted and I get the impression she hates her parents. Who never returns home during college and then moves to New York? Something big happened there and I’ll find out.” Mia dips her finger into the ketchup on her plate and licks it. “What else do you know about her, Dad?”

“Her parents didn’t tell her about the adoption until the night before she left for college, and she hated them for lying to her. Recently she hunted down her birth parents. Strange as it may seem, she’s a close relative of Rachel Stackhouse—the ‘Black Valentine’ victim. Alani found Rachel’s sister, Susan Bright, and she’s made plans to see her about some family secret.”

My heart is pounding. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? Did you know Rachel?”

“No, I’ve never met the woman but you’ve met her, haven’t you?” Linc’s expression hardens as he stares at me over the rim of his coffee cup. “This is all a suspicious long stream of coincidences. I just discovered you knew her. In fact, you were in the same ward when Rachel gave birth to the result of the rape.” He turns to Mia. “Your mom had you during a hurricane and it was the closest place the driver could find.” He sighs. “Before you ask, I was away on tour and you came early.”

“I know about the hurricane.” Mia waves a hand dismissively and rolls her eyes. “Who cares?”

“This is nuts.” Lucas sniggers. “Are you telling me the woman who gave birth beside you in a hurricane is Alani’s relative? Wow, she must come from some twisted family if she was adopted too. Then we discover Alani ends up being adopted by Sam and Willow?” He raises both eyebrows. “That’s crazy cool.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not cool. Her relative is also the woman who died in the ‘Black Valentine’ murder.” I look from one to the other. “All this just came to light. I’m starting to believe Sam knows everything and suggested Alani as my ghostwriter so she could implicate your father in her murder.” I stare at Linc. “It’s some type of scam to get money from us—or ruin us. I’m sure of it.”

“We need to find out.” Lucas leans forward, his eyes dancing with excitement. “We could write a song about this—it’s gold.”

The world shifts and I stare at the grape stuck to the end of a fork. It’s plump and juice is dripping from it, a perfect specimen but I have no appetite now. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I believe she’s a threat too but don’t fire her.” Mia leans forward, her eyes intent. “You know what they say about keeping your enemies close? Now we’re all aware, we’ll need to be careful what we say around her.” Her mouth curls up at the edges. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch her.”

I hear a shuffle of feet and turn to see Allison standing transfixed in the doorway. She’s heard everything. Mia looks at me and raises one eyebrow. I turn my attention back to Allison. “Yes, what is it?”

“I wondered if you’d like to make a plan of the times you want to speak to Alani?” Heat flushes Allison’s cheeks. “I’m sure she needs to organize her writing time.”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll speak with her myself. It’s your day off, why aren’t you out enjoying yourself?”

“I had a few things to do.” Allison backs away. “We’ll talk later.”

As her footsteps disappear along the hallway, I turn to Linc. “She overheard everything. She’s always snooping.”

“She’s your assistant, she knows everything about you already.” Linc chuckles. “You’re getting paranoid.”

“Allison didn’t know the latest developments—but she does now.” Mia selects two joined cherries from a bowl and hangs them over one ear like earrings and admires her reflection in the back of a spoon. “Alani and her could easily make trouble.”

I nod and pluck the cherries from her hair and toss them onto the table. “Stop acting the fool, Mia. This is serious.” I look around the table. “All of us need to watch them now.”

TWENTY-SIX

Alani

Terrified after speaking to Damon, I’d sat for an hour in the mall before heading home. What is happening? Suddenly my entire world has been sent off kilter. I don’t know who to believe and my concern into my own mental health is increasing. Some of the things Damon mentioned have happened to me. At college a few times I wished people were dead but actually murdering them never entered my mind. Maybe the trigger that makes psychopaths murder hasn’t happened to me yet? Yesterday, I needed an excuse to come home and when I arrived, I explained I’d had a disagreement with Isabelle over the truthfulness of the book. My parents were ecstatic to see me and I admit it felt nice being welcomed. I’m not sure how I feel about the Boswells. I didn’t call them to say I’d be away for the night and no one has called me. Although I do feel like I have a friendship with Linc and Lucas, I’m suspicious of Oliver, and Mia is so far out there, she is halfway back. I can’t read her. It’s as if she’s wrapped in a cloak that prevents anyone discovering her truth. I’m coming to believe that Isabelle has surrounded her entire life with lies and can’t distinguish the truth any longer. Does she even remember encouraging Rachel to go to the cops to tell them everything she remembered? If Isabelle decides to bring it up again and wants it in the book, how am I going to quash it? Another thought enters my mind. If Damon is watching us and he is a psychopathic killer, perhaps the entire Boswell family are in danger? Isabelle won’t be able to tell me anything if she’s dead, will she?

“You’re quiet.” Willow peers at me over the rim of her cup at breakfast on Sunday morning. “Is something wrong? Didn’t you sleep well?”

I move my attention to buttering a slice of toast and adding a good helping of strawberry preserve. “I’m fine. This jam is incredible.”

“I made it.” Willow smiles at me. “I buy strawberries from the local roadside stand each year and put up a ton of preserves. There’s nothing more satisfying.” She clears her throat. “Do you have plans for today? You’re not working, are you? We thought we’d have lunch at the club. Would you like to come?”

I smile and shake my head. “I’d love to but I have an appointment.”

“You never mentioned it before.” Willow frowns.

I don’t want to discuss it and shrug. “It’s not something you need to be involved in. Really it isn’t.”