No Accident (8 page)

Kelly twirled a lock of hair around her index finger and smiled sweetly across the booth at Chad and his weird little brother. Kelly didn't have to ask why Chad had never mentioned Will's existence—the kid was totally gross and totally embarrassing. He never stopped talking to himself and he had arranged a napkin under his ice-cream bowl like a picnic blanket or something. Well, what could you expect from someone who rode the bus? Kelly shuddered, remembering the filthy-looking public seat she'd sat in next to Chad's surprise brother.
Gross.
But as long as nobody besides Chad and Kelly knew about Will…well, it didn't
make Chad look any less good on Kelly's arm. And being nice to Will was clearly making Kelly look amazing.

Chad looked up from the banana split he'd ordered. “I was kind of freaked when you pulled up,” he admitted. “I've never told anyone besides Tom about Will. I wasn't really sure how you'd take it.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I should have realized I could trust you with anything.”

Kelly felt a thrill shoot through her as she smiled back at Chad. Alison hadn't known about Will? This was just too good. Little Miss Perfect would be crushed when she found out that Chad had told Kelly secrets he'd never dreamed of sharing with her. She would have to save that revelation for just the right moment.

Suddenly Kelly's mood was soaring. Playing the perfect girlfriend was turning out to be even more successful than she'd planned—and it gave her the perfect out for her other little problem. Gazing into Chad's eyes just so, Kelly leaned toward Chad with the big news.

“Chad, I've decided not to move to California. I would miss you too much. And now that I
see how much you really need me, I just can't leave.” She rested her hand on his arm and gazed into his eyes. The sucker fell for it hook, line, and sinker. His eyes actually welled up with tears! Man, she was good.

Kelly's phone beeped, and she pulled it out of her bag. Flipping it open, she saw a message from truthteller. It was short and sour.
THANKS
…
FOR NOW
, was all it said.

Kelly pressed end and slapped the phone shut. It annoyed her that her perfect moment was interrupted. It was doubly annoying that she couldn't figure out who it really was. But she would. There was no doubt in her mind.
There is a way to squash this worm
, she thought,
and I will find it.

Zoey tossed her history book into her bag and closed her locker with a satisfying slam. The wedding train was chugging ahead full steam, no chance of derailment—and Zoey felt like she was tied to the tracks. The latest mini-drama was about the cake. Debbie #5 had summoned Zoey to the parlor the night before, sounding totally desperate.

“Zoey! I'm about to kill myself over the cake. There are so many choices I just can't decide. You have to come to the tasting tomorrow. Please, please, please, please, please?”

If I say no, is it even remotely possible that
she really
will
kill herself?
Zoey mused. Because that was, hands down, the most appealing idea she'd heard in weeks. Well, besides the idea of evil incarnate—Kelly Reeves—moving to the opposite coast. “Gee, that sounds terrific,” she lied. “But I have to go to tutoring tomorrow.”

And isn't the wedding planner supposed to help with all that?
Zoey thought.
Dad's certainly paying enough
…Zoey knew her future stepmonster was just trying to bond with her over all the girly-girly stuff, ruffles and frosting and blech! Poor Deirdre was so stupid she didn't see that she was driving a huge froufrou wedge between them.

“Wish I could make it,” Zoey had said, backing away from the scene. Unable to resist a little sabotage she'd added, “I hear zucchini cake is the new chocolate.”

Zoey'd hoped that would be the end of it. But when the cake came up again at dinner, her dad had impatiently decreed that Jeremy would come to the house for her tutoring session—that way they could study
and
eat
cake. Joy. And that way the very important DA didn't have to hear any more about it.

At least Jeremy will be there, too,
Zoey thought as she turned away from her locker. If he wasn't coming over she wasn't sure she would even
go
home.

“Ooof!” Somebody plowed into Zoey from the side, knocking her bag to the floor and spilling the books onto the polished tile.

“Ooops,” Audra Wilson sneered as Zoey kneeled down to pick up her stuff. “Better be more careful.” Zoey glared at her through her long streaked bangs. What was her problem?

Ignoring Audra and gathering her things, Zoey got to her feet. She had no interest in tangling with the school brain. It just seemed so…stupid. But Audra planted herself right in front of Zoey, her gray-green eyes narrowed and her breathing a little scattered.

“I hope you don't think you can be number one in our class,” she hissed. “Because the position is already filled.”

Zoey stared at Audra for several seconds, saying nothing. Afterward she wished she had laughed in her face. The truth was, she could not
have cared less about class rank…until that minute. But one little shove was all she needed. The ante had been upped. Academic war had been declared. And Zoey had every intention of winning.

When Zoey opened the door to her house a few minutes later, Deirdre was waiting for her with a forkful of cake. Before Zoey could object, Deirdre shoved it into her mouth. “Isn't this delicious!” she shrieked. “It's called Lady Baltimore. It's a wedding classic!”

Zoey chewed and swallowed the tasteless, fluffy bite. “Perfect,” she said. Deirdre beamed and grabbed Zoey's hand to try to drag her into the kitchen, but Zoey shook her off. The dessert fork clattered to the floor.

“Come try the others!” Deirdre begged. “I've been eating cake for three hours and they all
taste the same! If I eat any more I won't be able to fit into my dress.”

“Sorry.” Zoey shrugged. “I told you, I've got to study. My tutor will be here any second.”

Deirdre jutted out her bottom lip. What was she, five? “But I had them deliver all that cake here,” she pouted.

“I'm sure they're all delicious,” Zoey added as she raced up the stairs. “Just pick one and be done with it.”

Zoey was putting on some lip gloss a few minutes later when the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a beat. He was here!

Taking the stairs two at a time, Zoey breathlessly threw open the door. “Hey!” she greeted before she even saw who it was. She blinked in surprise at a pair of smiling blue eyes. “What's up?” she added casually.

“Uh, not much,” Alison replied. “Can I come in?”

Zoey could tell right away that in spite of Alison's answer something was definitely up. Alison was holding a plain manila envelope and kept shifting her weight from one foot to
the other. Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she shoved the envelope toward Zoey.

“I, um, can you hide this for me?” she asked nervously.

“Sure,” Zoey replied with a shrug. “What is it?”

Alison lowered her voice. “It's some stuff I swiped from my grandmother.” She stepped closer to Zoey. “Actually, it's —”

“Afternoon, ladies,” a voice called from behind Alison. Zoey was startled. She hadn't seen Jeremy coming until he was at the porch.

“Hi, Jeremy,” Zoey replied, smiling and feeling her face grow warm. But Jeremy wasn't returning her smile. His gaze was locked on Alison.

“Aren't you going to introduce us, Zoey?” he asked. He was staring at Alison as if she were some kind of supermodel or something.

“Sure,” Zoey replied.
Isn't this a dream come true?
she thought sarcastically. “Jeremy, Alison. Alison, Jeremy.”

Jeremy held out his hand. “I've heard so much about you,” he said, his eyes alight. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning, and
Zoey felt an intense flash of annoyance as the two shook hands. What was so special about Alison Rose?

“Really?” Alison asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “Well, it's nice to meet you.” She followed Zoey into the house ahead of Jeremy. “How come you never told me that your tutor is so nice…or so cute?” she whispered as Zoey led them into the family room.

Zoey shrugged. Did she have to tell Alison every little thing?

“Anyone want anything?” Zoey asked. “There's about twelve different wedding cakes in the kitchen.”

“I'm good,” Jeremy said, sitting down on the couch next to Alison.
He
was
good
, Zoey agreed silently. Better than good. And sitting there next to her best friend, he looked…enraptured. That was not so good. Terrible, actually.

“Are you staying, Alison?” Jeremy suddenly asked. “Zoey and I don't have anything important to go over, right, Zoey?” He looked over, his expression questioning.

No! No! No!
Zoey screamed in her head. “Well, actually, I was—” she started to say.

Just then Alison's phone rang, and Zoey was saved from having to make up something transparent and stupid. Alison glanced at her screen and instantly looked nervous. Getting to her feet, she walked to the window and flipped open the phone.

“Hello?” she said softly. Zoey could hear the harsh buzzing voice of the person on the other end. Tamara Diamond. Alison said nothing, but Zoey could see her face growing pale. By the time she had hung up she looked like a cotton ball.

“I have to head out,” she said, shooting Zoey a look.

Zoey felt relief, despite the panicked expression in her best friend's eyes. She would have Jeremy to herself after all.

Alison's heart had begun jackhammering the moment she picked up the phone at Zoey's. “Alison, come home immediately,” Grandmother Diamond had said. “There is something I need to discuss with you.” Then she had abruptly hung up. Alison had felt her face go hot. Zoey and her tutor must have noticed, but Alison didn't care. She was too worried. She thought for sure her grandmother had discovered the missing documents. Grandmother Diamond was far too meticulous to let something like that go unnoticed. But had she discovered something to connect the missing items to Alison? Or did
she just suspect?
Thank goodness they're safe with Zoey
, she thought.
Just in time.

As the taxi turned into the long drive, Alison willed herself to remain calm. She tried to focus on her heartbeat and breathing, slowing them down. She could not give herself away. She had seen Grandmother Diamond in a fury before, of course. But the fury had never been directed at her.

“She can't prove anything,” Alison whispered to herself as she got out of the car. “Nobody saw me.”
I hope,
she added silently. She replayed the afternoon in her head. Fernando was in the garage. The cook was in the kitchen. The others had the day off. What about the gardeners, or the workers at the pool house? Had someone seen her from a distance?

Alison pushed open the door and stepped into the grand foyer. She saw immediately that the door to the library was ajar, and a light was on. Taking a deep breath, Alison walked toward it.

“Alison, darling, I'm so glad you've come,” Grandmother Diamond greeted, as if Alison were a guest at a dinner party. Her voice was
breezy —not the same clipped tone she had used on the phone.

“It sounded urgent, Grandmother,” Alison replied, trying to keep her voice steady. It appeared as though her grandmother would be going with her underused sweetness-and-light approach—lulling her into a false sense of safety. But Alison knew from experience that she could turn at any moment, and seeing her grandmother trying so hard to act friendly was almost more frightening than seeing her go for the jugular.

Tamara patted the spot next to her on the Queen Anne love seat, indicating that Alison should sit down. “It is urgent, my dear. It is,” Tamara repeated with a forlorn sigh.

Alison had to bite her lip as she took a seat next to her grandmother. Tamara was trying to get Alison to trust her and let her guard down. Unfortunately for the family matriarch, it was a little late for that.

“I have reason to believe that one of the servants has been taking things,” Grandmother Diamond said, watching Alison carefully.

Alison blinked. “Really?” she asked, raising
her hand to her chest. If Grandmother Diamond was going to play cat and mouse, Alison was going to do her best to make sure she wasn't the mouse. She waited for a few seconds, and then asked, “What kind of things?”

“Oh, you know…a trinket here, some papers there,” Tamara said vaguely.

Alison leaned in close to her grandmother. “Whom do you suspect?” she asked in a whisper.

Grandmother Diamond looked Alison dead in the face. “I'm not sure whom to suspect,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you have any ideas?”

Alison sat back, as if thinking. “No, I don't,” she said with a small shrug. “Unless…well, Kelly has been here a fair amount lately…”

Grandmother Diamond smirked. Alison knew her grandmother wasn't buying that idea for a second, but that she appreciated a good shot at an enemy—even though Alison's enemy was also Her Highness's granddaughter.

Tamara stared out the window for a few moments, then looked back at Alison, leaving the suggestion of Kelly's guilt hanging in the
air. “Yes, well, thank you for coming home so promptly. I shall see you at dinner.” Her voice was clipped again. Probably choking back anger and frustration at a situation that was out of her control.

Getting to her feet slowly so as not to appear to be in a hurry to leave, Alison smoothed her hands down her pants. “All right, Grandmother,” she replied as she walked to the door.

“Oh, and Alison…”

Alison's heart skipped a beat as she turned back to Tamara. She was not off the hook yet. “Yes?”

“Tell Francesca I would like to eat at six instead of six-thirty.”

Heaving a huge sigh of relief inwardly, Alison turned back toward the door. “I will,” she promised. She hated eating early. She was never hungry at six.

After stopping in the kitchen to pass along the message to the cook, Alison headed up to her room. Closing the door, she flopped onto her bed. Safe—at least for now. She had gotten rid of the evidence just in time. So why was her heart still thudding like a drum?

Because you have no idea what you're doing,
she told herself. It had occurred to her that she should turn the documents in to the police. From what she could gather in the few moments she dared pull them out from under her mattress and glance over them, they were very incriminating.

The file Alison had grabbed contained a slew of top secret letters, bills, and memos. It turned out that Tamara Diamond had her hands deep in her daughter's business. Several of Helen Rose's most essential employees —including her accountant—were on Tamara's payroll as well as Helen's. And Grandmother Diamond probably paid them more. It was possible the documents could help her mother's case. They also might get her grandmother into some serious trouble—if Alison turned them in.

Alison sighed and rolled over on the giant bed. She stared at the beamed ceiling. Was that what she wanted? Did she want her grandmother to go to jail? Did she want her mother to get out?

What she really wanted (or at least thought she did) was the whole story. Nothing in
the papers she'd grabbed mentioned Aunt Christine, or explained why Grandmother Diamond had set the pool house fire for
her
. There were still so many questions unanswered—and no one to ask.

Sitting up, Alison pulled her phone out of her pocket. Maybe if she told her dad what she'd found, he could help her get to the bottom of this, or at least get the papers into the right hands. Maybe if she called her dad, he'd actually bother to answer.

It took a minute for her call to go through to her dad's cell line. The call finally connected and rang once. But before it rang again Alison hung up. Who was she kidding? She still had a Band-Aid on her heel from the last time her father had let her down.

Alison set the phone on the bedside table. No. Her dad couldn't help her with this one. There was nothing Alison could do. If she turned the docs over to the police, it would look like she was on her mother's side. If she slipped them back into the vault, it would appear she was on her grandmother's side. And the truth was, she wasn't on either side.