The Liar Society (16 page)

Google is a beautiful thing. When I plugged in the address, “2547 Longview Drive, New Albany, OH,” all sorts of things popped up. First off, I could actually see the property, a gorgeous home set on a stately lawn (thank you, Google Earth), and one hit was a helpful news article—a blurb from the local newspaper’s police blotter.

This particular blurb referenced the address in Liam’s file. Apparently a minor had been charged with arson. A shed had burned down and a neighboring house damaged.

Liam.

It had to have been him, and I had to find out exactly what had happened that night. I spent the entire night planning my attack. I couldn’t avoid him anymore. I’d have to pretend like everything was fine in order to infiltrate. Yes, I said “infiltrate.” I was taking this investigation to a whole new level.

It also occurred to me that I was starting to sound like a spy from one of Seth’s crazy-ass conspiracy theories. Obviously my new sidekick was wearing off on me.

Mental note: no matter how tempting it may seem, do not start hanging out in tree houses and reading books about how the moon landing took place in some studio on Hollywood Boulevard as opposed to the actual moon. The last thing I needed was more distractions.

• • •

I sat in the office sending as many brain waves as I could muster toward Mrs. Newbury.
Bunco, bunco, bunco.
Seth and I needed her to get the hell out of there so we could effectively launch Investigation Firestarter. Yes, that’s a code name, and no, it definitely wasn’t my idea.

Finally Mrs. Newbury leaned under the desk to grab her purse. “That about does it.” She swung the bag over her shoulder. “I leave the office in good hands.” She ruffled Seth’s red curls, and I felt a little guilty about what we were going to do next.

We gave Mrs. Newbury exactly seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds to leave the building. A habitual woman, she stopped to visit with the same three people: Mrs. Laney in guidance; Mr. Stewart, one of the youngest male faculty members, who we were fairly sure she had a tiny crush on; and Bob, the nicest custodian on staff. If my calculations were correct, Liam would hold the door for Mrs. Newbury after he finished hanging out with his friends in the courtyard on his way in to grab books from his locker.

“Okay,” I said, staring at the clock on my cell phone. “Now!”

Seth picked up the phone receiver and pressed the “All School Page” button. He lowered his voice approximately three octaves and said, “Liam Gilmour to the main office. Liam Gilmour to the main office.” He sounded like a serial killer.

“It’ll be a miracle if Liam or any remaining teachers in the building don’t call the police after that page.” I couldn’t help myself.

“I didn’t want him to recognize my voice,” Seth replied, hurt.

I decided not to mention that Liam wouldn’t have been able to pick his face out of a lineup, let alone his voice. “Okay, so you have your assignment. Hunter-green Jeep, zip windows, lower-left area of parking lot, license plate number EIO315.”

“On it!” Seth scurried out of the office in the direction of the parking lot, and I waited to see whether Liam would actually show up after that bomb threat of a page to the office.

Sure enough, about four minutes after Seth made his exit, Liam casually pulled open the glass doors. When he saw me, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Did you hear someone page me?” He set his book bag down inside the office. “I thought maybe Mrs. Newbury needed help. It sounded like an ax murderer.”

“Oh…um…yeah, it was just a temp that they hired for after school, but…um…he had to step out.” Wow. This was going well.

“So you’ve decided to talk to me again? I’ve tried calling and texting every day and nothing, but now you’re waiting for me in the office?”

Really well.

“I’ve just been…busy, that’s all. And I’m not waiting for you. Like I said, the…um…temp paged you.”

“Well, do you know why the temp called me down here?” He looked amused. Clearly he could smell my bullshit from a mile away.

“Lost and Found,” I said, realizing too late that my lame excuse sounded much better in my head. “I think they found something of yours.”

“Ahh,” he said, approaching the box and peering in. He lifted up a ratty-looking sweatshirt, one dirty sock, and a broken pair of sunglasses. “Wow, thank God they found my sock. I’ve been looking everywhere for it.”

“I think they have the valuable stuff locked up or something,” I finished lamely.

He glanced at the clock and then back at me. “Well, tell the temp I’ll come back tomorrow. I’ve gotta run.”

I thought of Seth probably just having found Liam’s car and only about halfway through unzipping it. I couldn’t let Liam leave. I had to stall him.

“Oh, wait!” I said, getting to my feet. “Did you…um…see the new fish they added to the tank?” I rushed over and patted the glass. “Mrs. Newbury said this big one ate all the smaller ones.” Officially the worst stall attempt in history.

Liam again flashed me his amused semi-smile. I was failing. Miserably. He reached for the door.
Oh, God. Here goes nothing
.

I rushed to the door and threw my arms around Liam’s middle. He stiffened as I touched him, and I realized all at once that I’d never hugged him before. We’d knocked shoulders or touched arms, but full-body contact with my fingers spread across his stomach? No. I tried not to think about the grooves I felt beneath his uniform shirt or how the back of him grazed the front of me. This was about figuring out how he was connected to Grace’s death. Nothing more.

“I’m sorry. This is so stupid,” I mumbled into his back. “I just…I needed a hug, and…I don’t know, you’re here.” I loosened my grip around him, each second of silence adding to my humiliation. I wondered which was worse, having to pretend to need a hug from the guy I used to like but now suspected was a convicted arsonist—or having Seth get caught breaking and entering.

“I really have to go,” he mumbled, and headed for the exit. I swore under my breath and slipped out the doors behind him.

Lucky for me, Liam stopped to talk to a few kids who were hanging out near the entrance of the school. I sprinted as fast as I could and made a big loop around the parking lot so he wouldn’t see me. When I found Liam’s car, I saw Seth had slung his body over the seat and was digging around in back. Without thinking, I slammed my fist on the side of the car to get his attention, and Seth fell headfirst into the back, grabbing at his heart.

“Geez, Kate, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he yelled.

“Get out of there
now!
” He stared at me blankly, so I tried speaking a language he’d understand. “Code Red! Code Red! Abort! Abort!”

Seth dove up into the backseat, clutching a sheet of paper to his skinny chest, and slid out the unzipped plastic window. He shoved the paper at me, which I pushed down my uniform shirt, and we both scrambled to re-zip the window. We were casually leaning against Liam’s Jeep when he walked to his car looking more confused than ever.

“Um…hi?” He looked from me to Seth and back.

Seth nodded his head, and I said a quick prayer that he’d let me do the talking. No. Such. Luck.

“Oh, hey, there, Liam. Kate was just showing me your sweet set of wheels here.” Seth banged on the side of the car. “What type of gas mileage does this beauty get?”

Oh, my God. He sounded like a geriatric car enthusiast.

Something dark flashed in Liam’s eyes as he looked closely at Seth and me. Was it jealousy or something else? I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

“Actually, Liam, we were just going.” I dragged Seth by the sleeve of his shirt and didn’t look back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow. Bye!”

Once we were settled into our usual seats on the late bus, I reached down into my uniform shirt to retrieve the paper and smoothed it on my thigh.

Audi, Vide, Tace
was sketched across the page. But this had taken time—he had included shadows and shading, a level of detail only a true artist could apply.

“I knew I didn’t trust that guy,” Seth said, staring at the words. “He just had that look about him.”

I wasn’t in the mood for Seth’s I-told-you-so’s.

But as I flipped the sheet over, I noticed another set of words drawn in the same way.
Fortes Et Liber
. “Strong and Free.” For a second I was hopeful.

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” I showed Seth the back of the paper. “This is the motto on Brown’s old crest. Maybe he was using them for a band poster or something.”

Deep down I knew the truth, but I shook my head, not wanting to believe it. Despite the evidence stacked up against him—the conspiring with Beefany, the Rolling Stones T-shirt, the email, and now the Latin words—I wanted a different ending. One that didn’t involve me asking the tough questions.

We had plenty of proof to confront him, but my stomach twisted at the thought. I remembered all too clearly the feeling of Cameron’s fingers gripping my upper arm in his car or the way Liam had grabbed me in the hallway. So it was looking like we were going to have to go black ops for this one.

And, yes, I just made that up. I have no idea what “black ops” means, but I can tell you it most definitely doesn’t involve confronting another suspect in or near a car. Been there, done that.

When Seth and I finally made it home, the sun had just about set. We said a quick good-bye and headed back to our respective worlds. He ran home to have a nice, normal dinner with his family while I walked into a dark, empty house and found twenty dollars on the counter and a note to order takeout.

I called Geraci’s and placed the order for my favorite pizza with pineapple. I briefly debated grabbing a pint of Chubby Hubby from the freezer to take the edge off but settled for catching up on some mindless reality television instead.

The soothing sounds of catfights must have lulled me to sleep, because when I jerked awake, the family room was almost pitch-black. Out of sorts, I glanced at the clock and wondered why the pizza guy hadn’t come yet. The phone showed no missed calls, so I headed into the kitchen to grab a Diet Coke. And that’s when I saw it.

A shadowed figure ran in front of our huge bay window.

I froze. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears. And then I heard something else.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The glare of the TV made it impossible to see anything except the outline of a person.

The tapping turned to knocking, and the figure gestured at the front door. He wanted to be let in.

The TV flashed to a commercial break, and in the brief moment of darkness, I got a look at my visitor’s face.

Liam.

I screamed. I couldn’t help it. I knew he was somehow involved in whatever had happened to Grace, but I’d never expected him to show up at my house. I grabbed the phone to call the police, but when I started to dial he disappeared.

“Oh, thank God,” I said to the empty room as I collapsed back onto the couch.

“Yeah, thank God,” a voice said from behind me. It was Liam.

I jumped up from the couch and held the phone out like a weapon.

“How did you get in here? I’m calling the police!”

“I’ve been calling your cell for the past two hours, but you never picked up. And then I rang the bell a million times and no one answered.” Liam walked toward me and reached out his hand. “When I heard you scream, I tried the door. It was open.”

I jumped back to avoid his touch.

“Kate, what’s going on? One second you’re having coffee with me, and the next you’re digging through my car with some seventh grader and screaming when you see me. Just tell me what’s going on, and I’ll leave you alone. I swear.”

And in that moment he was the old Liam again. The charming guy who’d given me a ride home and blushed when he’d asked me out the first time. The one who’d held my hand and made me laugh. And out of nowhere, I heard myself telling him the truth.

“I know you started that fire. I know you’re somehow connected to the Sisterhood. Seth found the symbol in your car. Just tell me. What really happened that night? I promise I’ll never tell anyone.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. So much for black ops.

Liam stared at me as I held my hand behind my back and crossed my fingers. I wish I could say he looked murderous or even angry. Instead he looked defeated.

The doorbell rang, breaking our spell. I whirled around, standing on my tiptoes and stretching my neck to see who stood behind the door, but by the time I turned back around, Liam was gone.

I ran to the front door and yanked it open, not sure what to expect. Maybe the police had some new technology that could sense when someone was about to call 911? Or maybe Seth had seen Liam’s car.

“Pizza’s here,” said a bored-looking guy. He held up a large pizza box.

I grabbed the twenty dollars off the counter and shoved it into his hand.

“Keep the change.” What can I say? Pizza guys who practically save my life deserve a hefty tip.

I checked the lock on the front door eight times to be sure any additional unwanted guests would remain where they belonged. Over the past few years, I hadn’t spent a lot of time wishing my parents would come home, but standing in our foyer with a huge box of pizza and a pounding head, I’d never been more lonely. Or less hungry.

I shoved the pizza into the fridge and flipped on every light in the house. Once I made it to my bedroom, I flopped onto my bed, hoping to clear the thoughts racing through my mind.

But I couldn’t relax. My head throbbed in time with my heart, and I jumped down from my bed in search of either aspirin or a sleeping pill, whichever I could find first. The medicine cabinet was out of aspirin and didn’t usually carry sleeping pills, so I headed down the stairs for Tylenol PM or even NyQuil.

As the steps creaked beneath my feet, I looked back over my shoulder a few times just to be sure no one was behind me. I could have sworn I heard footsteps following my own. Tree branches scratched across one of the living-room windows, but when I glanced across the street at my neighbor’s trees, they were moving too. Wind.

Rhythmic creaking rang through the living room, forcing my eyes to the window. The porch swing was swaying. More than anything I wanted it to be from the wind, but then I saw her. Her face was tilted up at the dark sky, and she wore her school uniform, just like all the other times. She rocked the swing slowly, strands of her long hair lifted by the wind. I stopped on one of the middle stairs and rubbed my eyes in an effort to erase her image, to make her disappear.

It worked.

When I opened my eyes again, she was gone, and the swing rocked gently in her wake. I shot right back up the stairs and into my room, leaning against the closed door.

“Calm down. You’re seeing things. You need to sleep.” Honestly, I wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that I’d begun talking to myself or the fact that I was seeing ghosts. Neither bode well for my sanity.

As soon as I sat on the edge of my bed, I noticed that my computer screen was no longer black. Instead my inbox filled the screen. One new message had been delivered.

I ran to the desk hoping the message was from Grace. But the email in front of me wasn’t from a ghost.