Dead Girls Don't Keep Secrets
Page 10
“Why not?”
“She’ll never believe we’re dating.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I tell her a lot about my life, and forgetting to tell her I have a crush on a guy and I’m dating him is something big.”
“What if you say I asked you out and, realizing you’ve been wrong about me all your life, you decided to give me a chance.”
“Not happening.”
He frowns. “Lake, it’s the best option we have.”
I guess he’s right about that. Otherwise, we have no options.
“Fine,” I say, and then sigh. “I’ll go through her office and stuff. And then what? What am I looking for?”
“Contacts, information, anything that would lead to Felicia’s client list.”
“What if she has a long list?”
“Then we’ll vet all of them out. We’ll do what we have to.”
“And once we get the list? How do we vet them out?”
“We’ll pass you off as a new worker and set up a session. I’ll follow you and we’ll get the bastards to answer some questions.”
“Sessions? Don’t you think Aunt Dorothy will find out?”
He frowns. “You have a point there. But what else do we have going for us? We have to at least try. This is our only option.”
“This seems like it will take a while.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll have this set up by the end of the day.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, right.”
“Now, prepare yourself.”
“Why?” I ask.
Ryder grabs my hand and pulls me into the lobby. “Laugh,” he whispers. “Pretend like we’re flirting and I said something funny.”
I roll my eyes, but do it anyway.
He laughs, too, and it’s a joyous boisterous sound. He gives me this sassy grin that I can’t help but think girls go crazy for. His freaking dimples flash at me and they’re absolutely breathtaking—though, I’ll never admit that.
He pulls me toward the front desk and we see Marcy Parker, a prior senior at our school, who’s now a townie.
“Can I help you?” she asks, looking between us. She instantly recognizes me. “Oh, hi, Lake.” Marcy was always nice to me. Well, as nice as you can be to someone no one likes. She never had any animosity toward me, and was friendly enough.
“Hey, Marcy.” I give her a small smile.
“Who’s your friend—Ryder?” Oh no. She recognizes him, too.
“Hey, Marce.” Marce? The pit of my stomach doesn’t like the sound of that. “How’s it going?”
“Good. I didn’t know you two were friends,” she says, her smile now tight. Great, she’s a Ryder groupie.
“We’re actually dating. Came here to get a room.” Ryder winks at her.
“Over my dead body, Ryder Frost,” Aunt Dorothy’s voice snaps.
“Hi, Aunt Dorothy,” I say.
My aunt comes into view, and I can’t help but acknowledge like always just how much she looks like Mom. They have the same eyes, hair, and even facial expression, though Aunt Dorothy is pudgier than Mom was.
“What’s this about you going out with this brat, Lake?”
“Uh, well. I’m … we’re dating,” I say.
“Mmhmm.” She purses her lips. “Sure.”
“Actually, we’re not here to get a room, exactly,” Ryder says.
“We’re here to get your approval of our relationship,” I say, trying not to gag.
“You want my approval? Don’t you think it’s the twenty-first century? You can decide who you want to date on your own. But I wouldn’t mind questioning him. Why don’t we go have some lunch?”
“Sounds good,” I say.
Aunt Dorothy leads us to the dining room, where a few patrons are packing their plates at the buffet. Ryder and I grab plates, and so does Aunt Dorothy, and we start serving ourselves. Oh, snap. She has biscuits and gravy out today. I don’t want to gorge myself in front of Ryder, so I skip over them and go toward the salad, starting to serve myself the soggy lettuce when Ryder places a biscuit on my plate. “Eat this,” he says. “And …” He spoons gravy onto it. “You were practically salivating. No need to starve yourself in front of me. I like your body.”
“You like all bodies,” I say.
“No, I don’t. Just yours.”
“And yet your list of hookups is long and their bodies are not wide.”
“Yeah, so?”
“You have a type.”
“I have a type? I thought you thought I didn’t have any type.”
“You have a type. It’s thin girls with big boobs, or sometimes it’s small boobs and big butts. Or fake boobs, if we’re including Jessica.”
“I’m a teenage boy. I have a big libido, but none of them actually matter.”
“Asshole.” I back away from the buffet and make my way over to where Aunt Dorothy has taken up residence at a table in the back. Her hands are folded in front of her on the table. Aunt Dorothy’s bed and breakfast has a communal table and a few extra tables surrounding it. Most people sit around the communal table, always nervous to be thought of as that weird antisocial person who prefers to be alone. Thankfully, she’s sitting at one of those tables. She probably doesn’t want anyone to notice she’s associating with the sheriff’s son. I wonder if that’s because she hates Sheriff Frost, or if it’s because she’s nervous, being a madam of sorts.
I place my plate on the table in front of her and take a seat. She graces me with a tight smile, which doesn’t make me feel relieved in the slightest. Ryder takes the seat next to me. My plate is packed with salad and two biscuits and gravy. Meanwhile, Ryder has biscuits, gravy, a slice of ham, and some fruit. Damn, the boy can eat, even though his body doesn’t show it at all.
“You know you’ll have to pay for that,” she says.
“Aunt Dorothy!” I snap. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking to.” I almost sound convincing. She narrows her eyes at me. They’re green, like Mom’s.
“I would like it if you’d explain yourselves to me. Since when are you two dating?”
“Since Lake decided she’d take a chance on me. You know, I’ve had a crush on her since we were kids, but I was too much of a scared little shit to tell her. I didn’t know it would bite me in the ass in the future.”
“Really now?” she says as I blanch at Ryder. No way in hell could that be true. No way. But his earnestness seems sincere.
“So, what made you give him a chance?” my aunt asks, still skeptical.
“I just … well, I’m needing a change. I’m eighteen and I’ve never had a boyfriend before. And Ryder—”
“Is that all?” That makes her believe me a bit. “Seems unfair to a boy who seems to like you to just use him.”
“I’m not.” I try to have conviction in my tone and it’s working. “I actually like Ryder. Sure, it’s mostly in the sexual sense”—a choking sound from beside me nearly makes me burst into laughter—“but that’s how most relationships nowadays start.”
“I don’t know about that. But sexual frustration—”
“Dorothy, can I call you Dorothy?” Ryder says.
“No,” she says.
“Dorothy,” he continues. “I love Lake, and if this is the way to prove my feelings, then I’ll be her sex slave.”
My cheeks heat and I push my chair back, nearly tipping it over as I stand. “I need to go to the bathroom. Will you excuse me.”
I storm away from the table, unable to handle any more of this craziness. But instead of the bathroom, I head toward Aunt Dorothy’s office.
The hallway is empty, and I’m relieved no one is around. I slip inside the room and survey my surroundings. Aunt Dorothy’s office is powder blue with yellow molding. There’s a pale wooden desk in the center of the roo
m, and a breakfront in the back that displays her collection of old Hollywood plates. There’s one of Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and a more recent one of Harry Styles. She loves the Styles, even though she’s over half his age. I head to her desk and skim through her papers. There are bills—overdue bills—in a pile that raise some red flags in my head. I open her top drawer and find an address book. Who keeps an address book anymore? When I open it, I see a bunch of codenames with numbers and addresses, above which are the names of girls I know. Marcie for one, a few girls from school, and of course, Felicia. Below their names are lists. There are two small stars by two names under Felicia’s list. One is for the Naughty Doctor, and the other is for The Ditz. There are other names like the Slutty Businessman and the Baby Lawyer. I can’t help but cringe, thinking these are names of clients. I take my phone out and snap a photos of Felicia’s long list of clients. There are pages of codenames. My stomach roils at the very thought that Felicia had so many clients.
I turn to the next page and freeze. Jessica’s name shows up, too, but there’s only a number under it and no codename attached. Makes me think it’s true she tried this out and nothing happened.
I shove my phone back into my pocket. Just as I’m stuffing the book back into the drawer, I hear voices from outside. It’s Marcie and some other girl.
“Felicia just had to go and die, huh?”
“I know, right? And Dorothy is scrambling to figure out what to do with her clients. I mean, Felicia took on all the jobs that were high paying but no one wanted. I mean, that one lawyer that liked to dress up as a baby while she played the slutty nanny? I mean, gross.”
“But the pay would be good,” Marcie says.
There’s a pause before they both say in unison, “Not worth it.”
They laugh.
“I think Dorothy is gonna lose those customers,” Marcie says.
“I don’t know. She’s persuasive. If she offers the right price, one of us will probably do it.”
“Well, it ain’t gonna be me. Maybe Chloe?”
Their footsteps stop just outside the door. “Huh, the lights on in the boss’s office.”
I stop what I’m doing.
“Shit, do you think she’s in there?”
“Shut up!” Marcie hisses.
Another step heads toward the door and I duck, hiding under Aunt Dorothy’s oak desk.
The door opens and both girls sigh in relief. “Shit, if she heard us we’d both be dead.”
“Dead like Felicia?” the other girl says.
“That’s not cool, Courtney. Felicia killed herself.”
“Yeah, sure,” Courtney says, unconvinced.
“What?”
“Well, there’s a rumor going around that she was murdered, and it was made to look like a suicide. Like Dorothy’s sister.”
“Are you seriously one of those conspiracy theorists?”
“I don’t know, Marcie. I mean, think about it. They both killed themselves, and they’re both connected to Dorothy.”
Marcie is quiet for a second. “Don’t talk like that. It gives me the creeps.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You’re saying Dorothy killed her sister? Why would she?”
“There are rumors about her sister. You’ve heard them.”
“No. Because I don’t listen to crazy people going on about stupid things that didn’t happen.”
“I’m just nervous that one of us might be next. I mean, what if Felicia found out or something and confronted Dorothy, and like, things just got out of hand?”
I don’t like where this is going. Aunt Dorothy killing my mom is out of the question. They were so close, and never fought often. I don’t even remember either of them saying bad things about the other. Why would Aunt Dorothy kill my mom? And why would she kill Felicia if she was making her so much money? Then again … Felicia did say she was going to the press about my mom’s murder. If Dorothy found out—no. That’s just not possible.
“Stop it, Courtney.”
The lights flick off and the door closes. Their footsteps start to fade, and I slowly step out from under the desk, careful not to hit my head on the wood.
No way in hell is Courtney right about Aunt Dorothy. There’s no chance in hell. Then again, I now have true confirmation that my aunt is a madam, and she’s using her business to recruit girls. I never thought Marcie would be one of them. She was so smart, even though she didn’t get into college. She even had a long-term boyfriend she was still seeing. Did he know?
A buzzing sound drags me out of my thoughts, and I look around for the source. I open the middle drawer to the desk and find a cellphone. It’s not Aunt Dorothy’s normal smartphone, but one that looks a bit older. I take it out and look at the screen. There’s a text from an unknown number. I try to open it, but it asks for a passcode. I punch in my aunt’s birthday, since it’s her passcode for her other phone, but it doesn’t work. Then I try my mom’s birthday, and still nothing. The phone gives me a warning that I’m running out of tries before it locks me out for good. I try my own birthday, then rack my mind for a date, anything. I finally think of one that will probably lock me out. I use my mom’s death day. I press enter and it works. Holy shit. That’s probably not the best sign in the case of my aunt’s innocence. Maybe it’s one of the worst days of her life, like it is to me. That must be it. But a nagging voice in the back of my head whispers otherwise.
The screen is a picture of Aunt Dorothy and me and I smile, thinking it’s nice she still cares enough about me to put my picture on her secret phone. Then again, she has a secret phone and it’s kind of creepy.
I open her text messages and view the new text from the unknown number, reading through their last conversation from yesterday.
I never thought Aunt Dorothy would use text punctuation like a teenage girl. The next message didn’t come in until moments ago.
I know it’s probably not the best idea, but I text back.
I panic at those three little dots before seeing the next message is his address and phone number. Easy as pie. I take my own phone out and scroll through the pictures, and find it’s the Naughty Doctor.
I quickly delete all the messages that we exchanged over the last few minutes and click the side of her phone, locking it, before placing it back in the desk drawer.
I exit her office, only for someone to say, “What are you doing here?”
I look and find Marcie standing with the girl I assume is Courtney.
“I was looking for something for my aunt. She forgot her phone.”
I have the same phone as Aunt Dorothy, so I pull it out and show them. They look a little stunned and a little unnerved. Maybe they think I heard what they said earlier. I just shrug.
“So,” Marcie says. “You and Ryder Frost?”
“Yep,” I say. “Is that a problem?”
She shrugs. “I mean, not to me. I like you, Lake. You’re a good kid.” It’s funny she calls me a kid when she’s only a year older than me. “But like, you should be careful. He’s a dick. He’s probably using you or something. Just be careful.”
“Do you know from personal experience?”
She laughs. “No. More like I’ve heard from friends’ experiences.”
“Which friends?” I ask. I don’t know why I’m interested in Ryder’s sex life, but I’ve always been curious as to why he’s so adamant to date me.
“He’s just got a reputation. Be careful.”
“I don’t know if that’s totally true,” Courtney says.
“Oh?” Marcie snorts. “Don’t you know him well?”
Courtney shrugs. “We made out a few times, but like, he was a perfect gentleman for the most part. I mean, the guy can kiss and stuff, but he never pushed for anything else.”
“Maybe he’s secretly a virgin,” Marcie muses.
My eyebrows shoot up as I try to process what she just said. Ryder and Felicia? I mean, Ryder said he was helping her, but he also said he never touched her. Could he have lied to me? Is he just using me? Fuck. Am I being played?
“Ryder and Felicia?” I say, hoping she’ll elaborate.
Courtney’s smile vanishes as though she realizes what she just said. “I mean, it’s a rumor.”
“Shit,” Marcie says, looking at her watch. “Break’s over. See you around, Lake.”
Marcie grabs Courtney by the arm and drags her away, leaving me reeling at this new information.
I take a moment to compose myself. I need it, since I have to go back to Aunt Dorothy and Ryder and I can’t slam my fist into his gut in front of her. Though, maybe after we leave, I’ll hurl it into him figuratively.
As I make my way toward the dining room, I ponder exactly how I’m going to make him pay.
I hold my stomach as I approach them. Aunt Dorothy has relaxed a bit and is now laughing at something Ryder said. Of course, he can charm the pants off of anyone. I’d be surprised if he hadn’t.
“I’m so sorry, Aunt Dorothy, but I’m feeling like crap. Possibly breakfast. Dad made it,” I say. Though Dad is good with a slow cooker, he’s not the best cook in any other sense.
“I’ve told your father never to cook. And you not to eat his cooking.” She gives me a scolding look.
I shrug. “I was lazy and hungry, and food was just there.”
She sighs and I grab Ryder’s arm. “Take me home, honey.” I lay it on thick.
He nods. “It was nice speaking to you, Dorothy.”
“Don’t push your luck, kid,” she says. “Just because you’re funny doesn’t mean I approve.”
I want to tell her I don’t give a damn if she approves or not. She’s a damn lying pimp after all. I don’t, though, and instead give her a soft smile. I hate to think what will happen when everything comes out. I love my aunt, but what she’s done is unforgivable and evil. She’s definitely not the person I thought she was.