The Book of Cold Cases(62)

Mariana bought Beth a dress to wear. It was high-necked, sleeveless, dark green, belted at the waist, the hem falling to the floor. When Beth put it on, she looked like what she was: the daughter of Claire Lake’s richest and most prestigious couple, a debutante with all the money in the world. She felt like a fraud, and she snuck a bottle of schnapps from her father’s liquor cabinet and drank as much of it as she could before they left for the party.

She was worried sick about Lily. Lily had turned eighteen—a legal adult who didn’t live with foster parents anymore. Had she moved out already? Where was she living? Beth would sneak Lily money if she knew where she was, how to reach her. But in the periods between Christmases, the girls had never had any contact. Part of this was Julian’s rule, because he hated Lily and didn’t want Beth to talk to her. But part of it was Lily herself. “You don’t want anything to do with those people,” she’d say about whatever foster family she was living with. “I don’t want them talking to you on the phone or reading my letters. It’s better for me that way.”

Beth had respected that, even though she longed to talk to Lily sometimes. But now Lily was gone, and no one knew where. She hadn’t even left a forwarding address. It hurt.

Julian drove to the party. He was wearing a tuxedo, his longish hair neatly combed, his face freshly shaved. Beth’s father was handsome, but the creases around his eyes and the soft sag beginning in his jaw hinted at the truth: Life wasn’t always easy on him. He spent more and more time at work, or golfing in summer, or “meeting with clients.” Beth was old enough to wonder now if he had a girlfriend, or more than one. She was old enough to wonder where he went when he’d “visited friends” every Christmas of her childhood. She was old enough to wonder where her mother went, too, since she had no family to stay with, only “bridge friends,” who didn’t seem very friendly. She was also old enough to know that neither of them would ever tell her. Silence was a great talent of the Greer family.

Mariana had ironed her blond hair smooth and sprayed it into a perfect formation, rising from her hairline and sweeping back and down to her shoulders. Her dress was gold lamé; her coat, mink. Her eyes were made up so heavily she looked like she was in disguise, though the effect was also strangely sexual. Her elegant, narrow hands fidgeted in her lap, grasping for a cigarette as she stared silently out the passenger window.

Beth wished, for the first time, that she had one of Lily’s little white pills. Maybe that would make her forget whatever was about to happen tonight.

“Remember your manners,” Mariana said into the silence of the car, as if a conversation had just been happening. “These are people from your father’s company. You have our reputation to maintain.”

At the wheel, Julian snorted. Beth agreed with him. She couldn’t imagine what kind of reputation Mariana thought they had.

“Just be nice,” Mariana said, her voice thin with exasperation, like she was on the edge of tears. “Be nice. For once. That’s all I ask.”

In the back seat, Beth stared out the window, unable to look at her mother anymore. She’d skipped school for two weeks before the school finally called her mother and reported it. She hadn’t had any reason to do it, except that school was boring and she was curious how long it would take for the school to get up its courage and call home. The result was predictable: Mariana showed up at the school, wearing her mink at eleven o’clock in the morning, demanding answers about where her daughter was. Claire Lake didn’t have any private high schools, so Beth went to the public school, which made the scene even more exciting.

Beth knew that she should probably be embarrassed, but instead she’d felt a detached curiosity, because the whole thing was theater. No one, including Mariana, actually cared where Beth was. The school cared about pleasing the wealthiest family in town, and Mariana cared that Beth wasn’t nice. It was all a drama, like on TV.

Lily was the only one who really cared about Beth, about whether Beth was happy, about whether she would get what she wanted. And now Lily wasn’t coming. Most likely, now that she was an adult and not a helpless little girl, she would never be invited over again.

Beth wondered where Lily was right now.

The party was at another house in Arlen Heights, this one a large old-fashioned mansion with a circular drive. The house was lit from every window, and Beth could hear classical music as they pulled up.

“It’s lovely,” Mariana said as they got out of the car, an automatic compliment.

Julian snorted and said nothing. Beth agreed with her father again.

“Tom Fenegan will be here,” Julian said. “I need to talk to him about a few things. I expect we’ll spend part of the night in the study.”

“Of course,” Mariana said. “I haven’t seen Helen in a long time. We’ll need to catch up.”

This was her parents’ code: I won’t be spending the evening anywhere near you. Fine with me. Beth blinked hard and followed her parents up the drive, trying not to wobble drunkenly on her high heels.

The air inside at the party was stiff, as if everyone had dressed up but no one actually wanted to be there. Beth spent half an hour with a glass of champagne in her hand, painfully drunk, sweating in her green dress, and wondering why she was here before the answer to the puzzle presented itself in front of her. He looked about nineteen, he was handsome, he was wearing a tux, and he was the son of the house. He introduced himself as Gray.