No Accident (10 page)

Leading Chad through the halls of Stafford, Alison felt like she was having déjà vu. Being close to her ex felt so familiar. Except for the fact that he had blood gushing out of his nose, it was like old times.

Alison suddenly felt a little self-conscious—and bitter. “Where's Kelly when you need her? California?” she said lightly. Bringing up Kelly caused a sour taste in her mouth, but Alison didn't want Chad to think she'd forgotten he was taken. Just because she was helping him didn't mean she was hoping they'd get back together.

“Didn't you hear? She's not going.” Chad's voice was muffled in a wad of tissue.

Alison stopped in front of the nurse's door and let that sink in. Kelly was not moving. Her best-friend-turned-worst-enemy was staying in Silver Spring, where she could continue destroying Alison's life, just for the fun of it. As a sense of unease spread from Alison's gut, she felt something else—a little glimmer of hope.

Ugh.
Alison shook off the news, pulled open the door to the nurse's office, and practically shoved Chad inside. “Here you go,” she said lightly. Then, before Chad could even say thank you, Alison took off. She raced down the hall and into the girls' room. It was empty. Leaning over the sink, Alison splashed cold water on her cheeks, trying to wash away her lame hopes of reviving the past. That life she had—the one she used to share with Kelly and Chad and even her mother—was over. And after what they had done to her—all of them—she should have been glad.

It was pathetic to wish she had them all back again. And pathetic was the last thing Alison
wanted to be. “Get over it,” she told her reflection in the mirror.

Pushing Chad and Kelly and her mother out of her mind, Alison shoved open the bathroom's swinging door and stepped into the hall. She was startled to see X standing there, and blushed. Had X heard anything? It was hard not to feel pathetic when people caught you talking to yourself in bathrooms.

“Hey.” Alison tried to pretend she wasn't dying of embarrassment.

X looked at her like she had just noticed her—even though Alison had almost clocked her with the door a second earlier.

“Oh, hey. Alison, right?”

“Yeah.” Alison was surprised that X knew who she was. Most of the nasty rumors Kelly had started about Alison right after ditching her had died down by now. X, on the other hand, was the name on the tip of everybody's tongue—and after only being at school a couple of weeks.

She probably saw me in the tabloids,
Alison thought wryly. Her mother's rep was enough for both of them right now.

As X walked past her into the bathroom, Alison caught herself grinning stupidly. She was flattered X knew her, regardless of why. The new girl was undeniably cool. She was like a cat, the way she silently slipped in unannounced—and was always so aloof. She didn't seem to care who liked her and who didn't. Which just made everybody interested.

Alison felt a shiver of envy. It would be such a relief if she just didn't care what people thought.

Tom opened the front door to his house and made a beeline to his room. He had no idea if Deirdre was even home, but he wasn't taking any chances. If he had to listen to one more nauseating wedding detail he would seriously lose it.

Besides, he needed some time to think. Ever since he'd discovered the online photo of his mother's death scene he'd been a little freaked. Because there was really only one way his dad's car could have been there: if his dad was there. And if his dad was there…

Tom threw himself onto his bed and stared out the window at the red and gold leaves on
the trees outside. Fall was his mother's favorite time of year, and his, too—at least until she died in it.

Tom closed his eyes and tried to remember what he could about the night his mother died. Zoey had been with Alison at a slumber party at Kelly's house, their dad had been working late as usual, and he and his mom were having dinner alone. He remembered her being on the phone with his dad, arguing. She had asked him to come home so they could talk, and he'd refused.

Tom remembered thinking that he was going to make her laugh during dinner, make her happy. She'd seemed so sad lately.

But that night was worse, if anything. She broke down right at the table, sobbing.

“Mom, what's wrong?” Tom had asked, cuddling up to her. He had desperately wanted to make his mom feel better but had no idea how —he was only a fifth grader, and his mom was clinically depressed.

His mother wiped her face on her napkin. “Nothing, sweetie,” she'd replied, smiling
weakly through her tears. But a few minutes later she pushed her chair back and kissed him on the head. “I'm not feeling very well,” she'd said. “I'm going to bed.”

Tom felt his chest ache at the memory of watching his mother leave the dining room, her shoulders slumped with sadness.

He'd stayed up past his bedtime watching TV, waiting for his dad to come home, but he fell asleep on the couch before that happened. When he woke up, he discovered that he was alone in the house.

“Mom?” he'd called, rushing from room to room. There was an empty bottle of prescription pills on the counter by the bathroom sink. A few of the pills had fallen to the floor. But his mother was not there.

Tom sat up in bed a little, his heart pounding as he remembered how scared he'd been when he'd realized his mom wasn't home.

Tom had grabbed the phone and called his dad's office, but nobody picked up. Zoey got the next call, at Kelly's. Tom didn't have to say much, just mention their mom's name. Zoey
was home in half an hour. The two of them huddled on the sofa for what felt like hours, waiting…

Finally, around midnight, their father had come home and told them that there'd been a terrible accident.

A loud sob escaped Tom's throat. He jumped to his feet and tried to shut out the memory of that moment, that second when his entire life changed forever.

“Your mother is dead.”

Tom pulled out the photo he'd printed from his computer and stared at his father's half-submerged car—the car his mother died in.

He remembered the way his father had broken the news, as if he were reporting that they had run out of milk. He was so detached, so distant as he told them that she had driven her car into a lake.

Tom had never questioned that—until he'd seen this photo. Since then, he'd been full of questions.

And deep in his gut, he knew there was only one answer.

No matter how many times she visited, the Silver Spring jail always gave Alison the creeps. It was even scarier when she had to tell her mother something Helen didn't want to hear.

“I looked everywhere,” Alison lied. “I didn't find anything.”

“Everywhere? Even in Mother's bedroom?” Helen Rose stared evenly at her daughter's face. Even through thick glass, her stare was intimidating.

“Everywhere.” Alison tried to hold her mother's gaze but had to look away. She reminded herself that her mother was locked up— there was nothing Helen could do to get back at her.

There was a long moment of silence. And then, “You'll just have to look harder,” Helen said flatly. “I'm counting on you to do this, Alison. It's our only hope of surviving.”

You mean
your
only hope,
Alison said in her head. But she nodded.

“Well,” Helen said sharply, “I guess you must have schoolwork or something.”

“Yeah. I better go.” Alison hung up the phone and ducked out. Her mother's dismissive tone would have irked her if she weren't so relieved to go.

Seated comfortably in the back of a taxi, Alison flipped open her cell. She still hadn't reached her dad, let alone seen him, since he stood her up over a week ago. He had only left one message since then, and he hadn't exactly sounded sober. Alison hit send and held her breath.

After the fourth ring, his voice mail picked up. “You've reached Jack Rose. Leave a message and I'll return your call.”

Yeah, right.
“Hey, Dad. This is Alison. You know, your daughter,” she added wryly. “Maybe you could call me sometime. Let me know if you're still alive.”

As she was hanging up the phone, it rang.

“Sweetheart, it's Dad.”

“Dad?” He sounded out of breath. “Where are you?”

“Sorry I've been hard to reach. You're okay, right?”

“Um, yeah. I guess so.” Why was her dad being so weird?

“Good. Look—I know things are hard right now, but I just need you to be really…careful. Can you promise me that?”

Careful?
“Daddy, what's going on?” Alison was getting annoyed—and worried. Was her dad just drunk, or was he trying to tell her something?

“Sorry, I can't talk right now,” he blurted. “I'll call you soon. Just…take good care of yourself.”

“Dad?”

But her dad didn't answer. He'd already hung up.

The news that Kelly had chosen to stay in Silver Spring spread fast —just like she knew it would. Soon everyone was rejoicing, including her mom. It was like some sort of homecoming—except she never left. For a few days, Kelly sat back and soaked it up.

She strutted the halls of Stafford with her devoted golden boy on her arm. She once again ruled the school. X was all but forgotten.

Capitalizing on her reign, Kelly made sure to walk past Alison several times a day so her cousin could not miss Chad's fresh attentiveness. The boy hardly glanced away from Kelly—like she was a dream he did not want
to wake up from. Given what she'd learned about his family, she could hardly blame him. There was no doubt she was the best thing in his life. Ever.

And Tom had been as happy as Chad to find out she was staying. Maybe even happier.
He's probably in love with me, too,
Kelly thought. She let that thought play in her head a while.
Now that could be interesting.

By midweek Kelly had grown bored with the welcome-back party. All of the celebrating and sweetness was starting to make her sick. And something else was bothering her, too. Her view from the top was only shadowed by one thing—her position at her grandmother's house. Kelly was losing that turf battle with Alison.

A frown marred Kelly's pretty face. She hated to think Alison had anything to lord over her—and Grandmother Diamond was a powerful ace. Suddenly Kelly wanted her grandmother's respect. She wanted Tamara to see that Kelly was strong, and ruthless, and a worthwhile ally. That she, not Alison, had learned Her Highness's lessons well.

Kelly threw back her shoulders as a slow smile appeared on her face. She had work to do, but did not doubt she could make up lost ground and capture more. Two thoughts strengthened her resolve: Kelly deserved to have Grandmother Diamond on
her
side. And when she did, Alison would have no one.

Alison sat next to her grandmother in the second row of the vaulted cathedral. They weren't family of the bride or the groom, but being the richest woman in town had its perks.

As does being her favorite granddaughter
, Alison thought, fingering the diamond pendant she wore around her neck. Tamara had purchased it for her just for the wedding, along with a new dress and peep-toe heels. She looked great.

Alison glanced around the inside of the cathedral. Even though Zoey had warned her what to expect, it was still pretty overwhelming. The entire cathedral was decked out in pale
pink. Pink flowers, pink banners, pink ribbons, pink candles…even a pink carpet up the aisle. The flowers alone—towering bouquets of roses and lilies and freesia and orchids—must have cost a fortune. The whole thing had a nauseating effect and made Alison wish for one more pink thing—a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.

Silver Spring's see-and-be-seen elite were there in force, dressed to the nines and gossiping discreetly while they waited for the ceremony to begin. Alison recognized most of them from her grandmother's soirees, her mother's formal dinner parties, and the stuffy, extravagant charity fund-raisers that had been so much more bearable to attend back when she was friends with Kelly.

Suddenly the doors at the back of the cathedral swung open, and the twelve-piece orchestra in the pink-draped balcony began to play the wedding march. Alison craned her neck for a glimpse of Zoey, but couldn't get a line of sight over the hundreds of heads all turned to look at the wedding party. But the suspense didn't last long. Decked out in black tails with a white silk
tie and large diamond cuff links, DA Ramirez looked smug as he strode up to the altar to stand before the minister. Several groomsmen approached from the side of the cathedral to stand next to the groom. Tom looked ultragrumpy and stiff in his tuxedo, but Alison couldn't help noticing how adorable he looked, too. The pink tie brought out the color in his cheeks and was a nice contrast to his dark eyes.

Turning her attention back to the rear of the cathedral, Alison almost laughed out loud when she saw Zoey in the doorway. The flamingo dress really was as bad as she'd said. Blatantly forcing a smile, Alison's best friend made her way up the aisle in the pinkest, featheriest, poofiest dress Alison had ever seen. At least she looked better in it than Deirdre's other bridesmaids, who followed behind.

Alison tried to smile reassuringly as Zoey passed her row. Zoey mouthed the words “help me,” then quickly checked to make sure her father wasn't looking. He was too busy nodding at the reporters seated in the front row “family” seats and displaying his strong profile
for the photographers. Alison had to admit she was glad it was Zoey and not her taking part in this circus. She'd had enough humiliation lately.

Finally it was Deirdre's turn to walk down the aisle. She waltzed along the pink carpet, giving the audience little waves with her free hand and giggling as she got closer to her groom. She seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she looked more like a Vegas showgirl than a bride.

I can't believe she'll be Zoey's stepmother,
Alison thought as she passed. Two more different females did not exist on the planet.

“Oh, Dante,” Alison heard Grandmother Diamond murmur. “What are you marrying?”

Alison hid a smile, then eyed her grandmother with a bit of suspicion. Why would Tamara Diamond even remotely care who DA Ramirez married?

When the ceremony was finally over, the orchestra played a rousing march and everyone threw pink rose petals on the bride and groom as they walked arm in arm back down the aisle. Deirdre looked like she was about to
burst with excitement. There was no question: As a little girl she'd played “bride” with a vengeance.

“Find me as soon as you can at the reception,” Zoey murmured as she walked by awkwardly. Her heels and the thick pink carpet were obviously a treacherous combination.

“I will,” Alison promised. She took her grandmother by the arm and began to lead her out of the cathedral. But their progress was impeded by a guest hoping to pay homage to Her Royal Highness, Tamara Diamond.

“What a lovely dress, Mrs. Diamond,” the woman cooed, nearly stepping on Alison's toes. “Wherever did you find it?”

Tamara looked at her admirer as if she were a speck of dirt on her favorite Oriental rug. “At a clothing store, of course,” she said.

Alison bit her tongue. Her grandmother could be so rude!

Without another word to anybody, Grandmother Diamond led Alison out of the cathedral and into their waiting car.

“The public! Good grief!” she complained as she closed the door.

“But they adore you. She was just trying to be nice, Grandmother,” Alison said softly.

“Nobody is nice for no reason,” her grandmother replied flatly. “Remember that, Alison.”

Alison said nothing as the car pulled away from the curb and made the short drive to the country club.

“Stay close,” Grandmother Diamond instructed as the car came to a halt. “I don't want to be left alone.”

So much for having a good time,
Alison thought as they made their way into the clubhouse. But as soon as she stepped inside she forgot about her grandmother's mood. If the church was lavishly decorated, the country club was a riot. Pink was everywhere, of course—even in the champagne fountains. The ice sculpture of the bride seemed to have been nixed, but there were flamingoes carved from pink ice standing on pink-draped pedestals.

Servers wound their way through the room offering the guests champagne and hors d'oeuvres from shining silver platters ringed with pink orchids.

Alison followed her grandmother to the front of the long receiving line.

“Oh, Mrs. Diamond!” Deirdre squealed. “We're so happy you've come to celebrate our special day!”

Alison tried not to gag as she looked over at Zoey. What a suck-up! Her grandmother would never tolerate such brownnosing.

“Congratulations, dear. I'm pleased to be here,” Grandmother Diamond said with a small smile, stepping forward to give the district attorney an actual hug.

“Thank you for coming, Tamara,” Zoey's dad said. “You look stunning, as usual.”

“Thank you,” Her Highness said graciously, resting her hand on his arm. “Interesting event, Dante,” she added as she straightened. “But very splendid. I would expect nothing less, of course.”

Alison's ears burned. What was her grandmother up to?
Nobody is nice for no reason.
Tamara had actually been civil to Deirdre. And friendly toward the groom.

He must be more than an acquaintance
,
Alison thought. She hadn't seen the DA's name on any of the papers she stole, but she had a funny feeling as she watched the two of them together.

Alison fingered the beautiful pendant that sparkled on her neck. Her throat constricted. She had been so pleased when her grandmother had bought it for her. And the dress, too. But now she felt like a fool. She'd allowed herself to be bought.

Suddenly Alison felt as though the room were closing in on her. She couldn't breathe.
I've got to get out of here
, she thought.

She felt a tug on her arm and turned to see Zoey right behind her. “You okay?” Zoey said.

“I'm not feeling well,” Alison whispered hoarsely, apologizing with her eyes. “I've gotta take off.”

Zoey started to protest, then stopped when she saw the expression on her friend's face. “Okay. I'll call you later.”

Alison smiled at Zoey, grateful for a real friend. Where would she be without her? Then she turned and saw that her grandmother
was already surrounded by an admiring throng.

“Grandmother, I have a terrible headache,” Alison lied after elbowing her way to her grandmother's side. “Would it be all right if I had Fernando take me home?”

Tamara acted as if she barely heard her. She was in her element now. “Of course, dear,” she said with a wave of her well-jeweled arm. “Just send him back for me.”

Alison nodded. Fifteen minutes later, she was heading up the grand staircase to her room.

Alison pushed the door open and stared, mouth agape. Her room was a mess. Someone had ransacked it. Every drawer had been pulled out and dumped. The contents of her closet were spilled all over the floor. Even her bed had been stripped, the mattress half on and half off the frame.

The bathroom was just as bad. Her makeup and accessories were spilled everywhere, and her favorite perfume bottle lay smashed on the tile floor.

Alison's hands clenched into fists as she
stared at the mess— at the invasion—before her. This was too much. This crossed the line. Her grandmother must have had Alison's room ransacked, to look for the documents…or more likely as a warning. This was Tamara's way of letting Alison know what could happen if she ever decided to do anything with them. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that Grandmother Diamond was in complete control—and that Alison couldn't afford to have her as an enemy.

Her father's warnings echoed in Alison's head. Surely it was Grandmother Diamond he'd been trying to caution her about. She wished she could talk to him now. She needed him more than ever. If she could just track him down…If he would just return her calls…

Alison bit her lip. She wouldn't cry. And she wouldn't be bullied. She would simply get out of there, leaving her grandmother with an empty room. As of right this minute, she no longer lived at the Diamond estate.