The Liar Society (15 page)

Back home, I stood under a scalding hot shower, letting the water run over me as the rain had just hours before. No matter how much I complained about Seth, I knew I never could have accomplished anything that night without him.

After I dressed, I sat down at my desk and pulled up my email to thank him. But before I could even begin to type, I noticed the bold words.

I had one new message.

To: [email protected]

Sent: Tues 11:21 PM

From: [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

You are close.

Please don’t stop.

Liam knows, be careful.

I read the words on the screen over and over again. What does Liam know? I hadn’t told him anything.

And yet she said I was close. And Grace was right—I couldn’t stop now. If I was being honest with myself, I knew deep down that something wasn’t right with Liam. Seth would never make anything up just to hurt me. Liam was definitely hiding something, and I was willing to bet it went deeper than his dysfunctional relationship with Beefany.

Did he know about the Sisterhood? Or did he know what had really happened to Grace? Did he really have a history with fires? But why would he have wanted Grace dead? Why would the Sisterhood have wanted her dead? My mind spun with questions.

I felt like my head was going to explode, so I tried to pull the emergency brake on my overactive brain. First things first: the email said Liam knew something, so I needed to focus on that. The mysterious Brown pin, the missing invitation from that night, and the Sisterhood would all have to wait. For now.

As for Liam, it was time to go all
Law & Order
on his ass and find out the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And as much as I wanted to be surprised, I wasn’t. I liked Liam. A lot. And yet I’d always known deep down that he was hiding something.

I wish I could say I’d never seen it coming. But all the signs were there. My heart just chose to ignore them.

I cradled my head in my palm and pretended to listen to Beefany drone on about Homecoming weekend. But my thoughts alternated between a mental list of who might be a member of the Sisterhood and just how much Liam knew.

Clearly, the Sisterhood was meeting for some reason at the chapel the night of the Spiritus bonfire, but I still believed Naomi when she said that she and her “friends” had nothing to do with Grace’s death. I was missing something, something big. And I couldn’t ignore the feeling that I was running out of time.

“This dance is the single most important night this fall, and it’s our job to make it more than perfect.” Beefany had something red stuck between her front teeth, and I absentmindedly wondered if it was a piece of human flesh. “But before we can start making decorations, I’m going to reveal the theme of this year’s Homecoming dance.”

The room full of wannabes buzzed with excitement and looked expectantly at Queen Taylor, who sat behind Beefany, as usual.

“Okay, people, quiet down.” Beefany rapped her gavel a few times. I noticed that it sort of sparkled. Unbelievable. The gavel was now bedazzled. I wondered if that was Beefany’s or Taylor’s handiwork. Maybe Beefany had applied the crystals when she had weekend custody. Taylor didn’t seem like the bedazzling type.

“The theme is…” She raised her strong arms in the air like a preacher and paused as though waiting for a drum roll. “Mardi Gras!”

The room erupted in squeals. I looked around and watched as girls jumped up and gave each other hugs, the jocks shoved each other, wide-eyed at the possibility of such a scandalous theme, and one random chick in the corner power-punched into the air.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of the girls had pulled up her shirt in hopes of getting assigned to work on centerpieces with Taylor. Who needed beads when you could vie for the queen’s approval?

The loyal subjects began shouting out ideas associated with the theme, and Beefany wrote each on the board in her careful print. Taylor nodded her approval as the brainstorming continued. But then she motioned Beefany over and whispered in her ear.

Contrasting eyes settled on me—Beefany’s dark brown and Taylor’s bright blue. Finally Beefany straightened. “Kathy?” Her eyes narrowed in my direction. “Kathy, how about you? What’s your contribution to our little think tank?”

“Well, it’s Kate, and I think you have a pretty good list there,” I said, annoyed.

“Cape?” she asked, feigning confusion.

“No, K-A-T-E,” I practically shouted.

“Okay, Cape, do you have anything to add?”

Only that a Mardi Gras Homecoming theme might be the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, I thought, but I shook my head instead. Although I had to admit I wouldn’t miss Homecoming night for the world. This was one train wreck I’d have to witness in person. Only one issue: I needed a date.

I mentally crossed Liam off the list of potential date candidates. Call me crazy, but it seemed in poor taste to go to Homecoming with a guy who was probably involved in your best friend’s death.

When he poked his head into the classroom a moment later, I gasped. It was like he could read my mind or something. He signaled for me to join him in the hall, and for the first time since I’d started hanging out with him, a wave of nervousness washed over me. And not nervous in that butterflies-in-the-stomach-I’m-about-to-kiss-my-crush kind of way; I was veering more into heart-starts-racing-when-you’re-alone-in-a-dark-parking-garage-at-night territory.

Although I had spent the bulk of the previous night developing my plan of attack, seeing Liam’s face squelched my courage. I wasn’t ready. But he didn’t look like he was going to leave until he talked to me, so I snapped my fingers. Beefany insisted we snap our fingers to get her attention—something she and Taylor had learned at a Young Leaders of America conference.

“Cape? Do you need something?”

“Just the bathroom.”

“Well, don’t be long. We have lots to do, and we haven’t even started designing the centerpieces.”

She glanced at the door, but Liam had already ducked out.

“What’s going on?” I asked Liam as soon as I’d shut the door behind me.

“I just thought maybe you’d want an excuse to get out of there.”

“That’s okay,” I said, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s getting kind of…interesting.” The lies were second nature now.

“All right.” He looked kind of embarrassed that I’d turned him down. “Did you get my texts?” He lightly grazed my arm as he asked, and I flinched.

“I’ve just been super-busy,” I said. “I should get back in there.”

I grasped the door handle, but Liam continued talking.

“They’re liars. You know that, right?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Don’t get sucked in. You’re too good for that.”

I spun back around automatically. “It’s funny that you’re calling them liars. Are you ready to tell me exactly what happened between you and Bethany?”

Liam’s entire face fell. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m not an idiot, Liam. You can’t keep pretending that there’s not something going on between you guys.”

“It’s not what you think.” His eyes darted toward the door as though he was afraid she’d hear or something.

“Well, then, tell me, Liam. What happened?”

When it was obvious he wasn’t going to answer me, I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me further into the hall. He wasn’t holding me that hard, but when I wasn’t able to free myself, I began to panic.

“What are you doing? Let me go!” I didn’t realize I had shouted the words until the door to the classroom swung open and Alistair Reynolds came barreling out.

“Dude, lay off!” He pried Liam’s hand off my arm and threw it down. “What’s your problem?”

“Kate, I didn’t mean…” Liam began, but Alistair’s arm was already thrown around my shoulder, my head pulled close to his chest.

“Just leave me alone.” Even as I said the words, I wanted to take them back.

Before Alistair guided me back into the safety of the classroom, I couldn’t resist one last long, hard look at Liam. He was still gorgeous. No denying that. His longish hair was messy in a way that somehow ended up looking stylish. His khaki pants fit low on his hips, and he’d layered another one of his vintage tees beneath the required white-collared shirt. The thin material of the button-down gave way to words underneath. This one looked like it might be an old-school-band T-shirt.

And then it hit me.

Naomi had seen someone running from the chapel with longish hair and a Rolling Stones T-shirt.

“Come on, Kate. Let’s get back inside,” Alistair said.

“You go first,” I said, distracted, waiting for the door to close behind him. I pointed at Liam’s chest. “Is that…a Rolling Stones T-shirt?”

Liam looked at me like I was a little crazy. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Turn around,” I practically shouted.

Sure enough, when he spun around, a faint pair of lips with a tongue hanging out could be seen through the white.

Without another word, I lunged for the door of the classroom and yanked it open, leaving Liam in the hallway staring after me. Liam was the missing piece of the puzzle. He was the one Naomi had seen running through the woods that night.

As soon as I was free from the hell that was centerpiece planning, I sprinted through the empty halls to Station 3, marveling at how the station inscriptions shifted based on the kind of day you were having.
Faber est suae quisque fortunae
. “Every man is the artisan of his own fortune.” Last time it had been doughnuts; today it was petty theft. Lucky for me, it was Tuesday, which meant Seth had afternoon duty at the office. My fortunes were looking up.

When I arrived at the office and peered through the glass walls, I found just who I was looking for. His red curls sprung out from behind a filing cabinet.

“Hey, Seth,” I said, poking my head into the office.

He popped up like a little groundhog and smiled. If nothing else, Seth was always happy to see me. With everything that’d been going on in my life, I was grateful for that.

“What’s up?” he asked in a voice that was about ten decibels too loud for my taste. Mrs. Newbury shot us a disapproving look, so I grabbed Seth’s arm and yanked him into the hall. I scanned the hallway to see if any teachers were within earshot. The coast was clear.

“Can you pull a few files for me?” I asked quietly.

“You mean, like, student files?” he said, clearly shocked by the idea.

“Yeah, I need to know the deal with Liam, Bethany, and Taylor. I got another email from Grace, and she mentioned Liam’s name. And something tells me that if there’s a secret society at Pemberly Brown, Bethany and Taylor are in on it.”

“Whoa, wait a second. You’ve had an actual conversation with Taylor Wright?”

I shook my head, annoyed. “Um, not exactly, but I had to join Concilium. It’s a long story. But I need the files. Can you help?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Seth’s eyes darted around skittishly. “I don’t know…if we got caught…” Seth trailed off.

“Look, Seth, you spend all your time reading those crazy books about unsolved mysteries and conspiracies, and you’re finally in a position to help me solve what might be an actual murder. But we can’t do anything unless you’re willing to take some risks.”

I needed to know what had really happened between the two of them, but more than that, I needed to know exactly what Liam was capable of. If he really was some kind of pyro, maybe he had somehow played a role in what happened to Grace.

“Fine. I think I can do it. Mrs. Newbury always leaves early on Tuesdays for her bunco game.”

“Great. I’ll save you a seat on the late bus,” I said, already starting to walk away. I wanted to get out of there before he changed his mind.

“Oh, and Seth.” I turned back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you!”

He turned bright red, and a huge smile practically split his face in half.

• • •

True to my word, I sat on the bus waiting for Seth. I had the entire bus to myself until Bradley and Alistair decided to climb on, draping their arms over the seat in front of me.

“Oh, hey, Kate. I didn’t know you were on this bus.” Alistair smiled lazily.

“Um, yeah. Most days, actually. I didn’t know you guys even knew buses existed,” I shot back. What the hell were they doing here? Seth was supposed to be here with the files any minute, and I didn’t have time to deal with these jackholes.

“Yeah, we’re not exactly bus people, but we were passing by and saw you sitting all by yourself and wanted to say hi.” Bradley’s smile was so bright, I had to look away.

There was a knock on the window next to the boys, and we all looked down to see Porter waiting outside, guitar and all.

“What’re you doing, Al? Mom said you have to take me to guitar practice today. I’m not walking again,” he called through the open window. I wasn’t sure if it was the pathetic note in his voice or the news that Porter actually took lessons and was still
that
abysmal at guitar, but I found myself laughing.

“Well, duty calls.” Alistair shrugged and stood up.

Bradley hung behind for a second, and his almost black eyes pierced mine. “Take care of yourself, Kate.” What the hell was that supposed to mean?

I nodded and watched him jog off the bus and over to Alistair and Porter waiting outside. Alistair and Bradley shoved at Porter as they walked, and I heard Alistair make some snide comment about Seth’s rolling backpack when he crossed their path.

Seth’s geriatric bag caught along the edges of the seats as he pulled it down the aisle. It made my heart hurt a little that he seemed so unfazed by the bullying outside, but I was soon distracted by the three fat files he delicately lifted from his bag as he sat down.

“I got them,” Seth said, looking around the bus like he was an undercover agent of some sort. “Not sure what you’re looking for, but whatever it is, it’s probably in here.”

We started sifting through the files and found all sorts of interesting information.

Apparently, Taylor’s father had donated a huge chunk of change to the school right before she was accepted. Guess she didn’t have to fill out that tedious application to get into PB like the rest of us.

As interesting as it was to learn about Taylor behind the scenes, the information wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. I thumbed through the pages in search of her guidance records. I knew from experience that the guidance counselors were forced to document every student visit by completing a form.

Taylor had a huge stack of guidance forms. Most of them were boring requests for more honors classes and petty complaints about teachers or students who had dared to defy Pemberly Brown’s reigning queen bee.

But one form had been flagged with a sticky note that read, “Urgent.” The entire page was filled with notes, and the counselor had stamped
confidential
in huge, red block letters at the top of the sheet.

Taylor suffering from severe depression. Doctor has prescribed Zoloft to alleviate symptoms.

Taylor depressed? I felt like this must have gotten stuck in the wrong file. It was dated last November, so apparently she’d spent the last year stuffed with antidepressants too. This shouldn’t have made me happy, but it sort of did. I wondered if she went to Dr. P. I’d love to see the look on her face if I caught her in the waiting room.

Bethany’s file was completely useless. No trips to the guidance counselor, just a bunch of demerits for getting into fights throughout lower school. You’d think someone would have gotten this girl into anger-management counseling at some point.

But Liam’s file was just as fat as Taylor’s, although for a completely different reason. His guidance forms told a stereotypical bad-boy-with-issues story. One session from his middle-school years outlined feelings of loneliness after moving from school to school after his mom died. Detentions, suspensions, and one expulsion riddled the other forms, while another counselor marked notes about Liam’s struggle to transition from public to private school.

I felt a twinge of guilt looking through all of his confidential information, but I reminded myself I was doing this for Grace. I flipped through every form in the file, but there was nothing about a fire. Was it just another rumor?

“I thought you said Liam had some kind of history with fire,” I hissed at Seth.

“He did. The form should be in the back. Here, let me see.”

Seth grabbed the folder from my hands as we rounded a corner.

“All right, it’s got to be in here somewhere,” Seth whispered. “But I don’t see it. I know it was in here at the beginning of last year. I saw it when I was transferring files after the office was remodeled.” He sounded confused.

“Are you sure? Like, really sure? Because if he didn’t really do it…”

“Wait. What’s this one say?” Seth asked and picked up another form flagged with a sticky note. The bus hit a bump, and the file’s contents spread out on his lap. His forehead wrinkled as he read. “Something about community service.”

“That could be for any of these little incidents. What does it say?”

“Replanting trees…picking up garbage…rebuilding a garage…”

I was starting to get bus sick reading over Seth’s shoulder. I looked out the window to see how much longer we had and then glanced back at Seth. He was staring at the file, deep in thought. “They give an address. Maybe if we look it up we’ll be able to find more info.”

“Fine. I’ll check it out tonight and see what else I can find.”

The bus jerked to a stop, and our driver pulled the door open. I shoved the papers back into Liam’s file and, with a heavy heart, stepped down into the fresh air.

The street was blanketed in red, yellow, and orange leaves that crunched beneath my feet as I headed home. Only yesterday, the leaves had been arranged neatly on branches, vibrant against the blue backdrop of the sky. Now they had all come tumbling down, edges curled, color faded, making the world look a whole lot less beautiful.

I regretted ever getting involved with Liam, regretted ever trusting him, letting him in, liking him. I used my finger to catch the tears before they fell, wiping them across my skirt.

Whoever said “The truth hurts” wasn’t kidding.