Lies I Told(24)

I turned to find Rachel, standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

“Doing a little exploring?”

“Rachel . . .” I was grateful for the darkness as guilty heat flooded my face. I recovered quickly. “Logan said I could take a look around. It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I looked up, making a show of taking it all in while I filed stuff away for later.

“What are you doing here, Grace?” Rachel’s voice was cold.

“Just . . . you know, looking around.”

“Just looking around, huh?”

I met her eyes, forcing my gaze steady. “That’s what I said.”

Rachel was quiet as she paced the floor of the carriage house, her eyes scanning the walls halfheartedly, like she’d seen it all before and just needed a place to focus her attention.

“It’s weird, that’s all,” she finally said.

“What is?”

“Your family . . . moving to Playa Hermosa right after school started, renting a house on Camino Jardin, where hardly anybody rents, being so . . . interested in Logan. In all of us.”

“How do you know I live on Camino Jardin?”

Rachel stopped walking, her eyes taking on the shrewd, knowing shine that was starting to give me the creeps.

“I know lots of things,” she said. “Lots and lots of things.”

“What are you getting at, Rachel?”

She flashed a small, chilly smile. “Nothing in particular. Just that when I don’t know something, I usually have a way of finding out.”

She held my gaze, silence looming between us, an abyss that seemed more impossible than ever to cross. Then she turned around and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the shadowed carriage house.





Eighteen


As soon as we got home, my dad pointed to the staircase. “Upstairs,” he ordered.

The rest of the barbecue hadn’t been a rousing success. I’d spent my time with Logan, torn between how much I liked being with him and how uncomfortable it was to look over and see Rachel following us with her eyes. Parker hadn’t helped, either. By the end of the afternoon he was so sullen he wasn’t even going through the motions. He’d barely tipped his head in thanks to Warren and Leslie Fairchild when we said good-bye.

Despite my growing attraction to Logan, I’d been glad to leave.

Now, I trudged up the stairs behind Parker, mentally preparing myself for whatever was coming when we got to the War Room.

Closing the door behind me, I sat down at the little table in the center of the room. Parker was already there, leaning back with his legs splayed out, a stubborn light in his eyes.

Our dad glared at him. “Would you care to explain what that was all about?”

His voice was level, but I wasn’t fooled. He was a dynamic, intense person, even when angry. I knew he was really mad when he didn’t speak with emotion. It meant he was making an effort to keep it under wraps.

“Nothing,” Parker answered, his expression defiant.

My dad leaned in until he was close to Parker’s face. “That didn’t look like nothing. You spent the afternoon ignoring Logan and Rachel instead of being friendly to them, which I might remind you, is your job.”

“Maybe I don’t want this job anymore,” Parker said lazily.

“Parker . . . ,” my mother warned.

He glanced over at me, and I remembered his words from the parking lot above the Cove: We could just leave. Start over somewhere.

He took a deep breath and looked away, like he was remembering, too.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “It’s just . . . Grace is my little sister. I know it’s not biological or anything, but I don’t like the idea of her having to come on to some guy for the con.”

“It’s business,” our dad said. “We’re in this together. Grace understands that.”

Parker’s nod was slow, his jaw clenched. “It won’t happen again.”

Our dad nodded. “Good.” He pulled up a chair, turning his eyes on me. “Now, how did it go?”

I jumped in to fill the awkward beat of silence. “Logan and I are getting along well.”

“How about the house and grounds?” He looked from me to Parker. “Notice anything unusual? Anything that might point to the location of the gold?”

“I went inside once,” Parker said, “but Leslie Fairchild was dealing with the desserts and she started making conversation. Then she needed help carrying everything outside and that was the end of that.”

My mom spoke up. “I got a quick look around when you were talking to Leslie and Warren about business.”

I could only assume she was referring to the fake venture capital firm that was our excuse for moving to Playa Hermosa.

“And?” my dad prompted.

“I only got through a couple of the rooms, but I didn’t see anything that would point to a vault or panic room big enough to hold all that gold.”


“Did you look behind the paintings?” my dad asked. “Check the bookcases for false fronts?”

“As well as I could with fifty of the Fairchilds’ closest friends wandering in and out of the house.”

My dad rubbed the five o’clock shadow that had appeared on his jawline. “What about you, Grace?”