Good Girls Lie(86)

“Now what?”

She grins. “Now we talk to the dean. She’s the one who interviewed Ash originally, correct? Let’s see if she noticed any differences between the girl she talked to and the one in this photo. I’ll have my guy in Scotland Yard start looking at passports and identification, plane tickets, credit cards, any activity we can find there. I’ve asked for the full files on the parents’ deaths. Not sure if they’ll let me see them, the coroner’s inquest ruled them ‘misadventure,’ which essentially means they agree that the father died from an overdose and the mother shot herself in her grief. The case is closed.”

“Convenient.”

“Now you see where my head’s at.”

“Kate, I gotta ask...is Scotland Yard all good with you looking over their shoulder on this? The family is well-known, and from what you’re telling me, private. The estate might not think kindly of you poking the bear.”

“Oliver is totally on board with me doing some extraneous digging. I’m not concerned with the estate. There’s no family left to piss off. The son and titular heir died young. The parents are dead. Ashlyn is the only one left.”

“So, you think this girl we talked to is not only an impostor, she murdered this very respectable family to take the place of their daughter?”

“When you say it aloud... I know it sounds far-fetched, but I can’t shake the feeling, Uncle Tony. Something is rotten in Marchburg. If it’s not the same girl, someone in England will surely be able to confirm that for us.”

He takes a long swig, a few bites of his pizza. “First, let’s drop in on Ford, have a chat with her. She’s the one who interviewed Ashlyn, she knows the girl’s background. There will be official paperwork. We can figure this out pretty quick.”

“Thank you for listening, for believing me.”

He finishes the beer in one last huge gulp. “Oh, I believe you, Kate. I’m just preparing myself for the shit storm that’s going to be unleashed if you’re right.”



65

THE DUPLICITY

The drive to campus is only ten minutes. Tony says nothing on the way, which is fine with Kate. She’s lost in her own thoughts, too. But when they enter Marchburg’s heart, he points to a well-kept Victorian house done up in grays and whites with a matching side garage.

“That’s the old Westhaven place. You should see it inside. Chock-full of antiques, decorated to the hilt. There’s a Bentley in the garage, too, a perfectly preserved 1934. Belonged to one of the earlier headmistresses. Ford doesn’t live there, she stays on campus, but her mother stays when she comes to town. It’s a shame, big gorgeous old house like that standing empty most of the time. Makes me sad. But that’s what this town’s like. It’s all about the students. Most of the folks who grew up here have moved off to bigger towns and better lives.”

“Yeah, they’ve crowded into Charlottesville and are busy wreaking havoc for me instead of you. Uncle Tony, this is none of my business, but is there something up with you and the dean?”

He glances over, though his eyes are obscured by sunglasses. “If you’re asking if I’m compromised here, no. Ford and I saw each other for a while, off and on. Broke it off for good this summer.”

“May I ask why?”

He is silent for a few moments, then sighs. “She’s ambitious. Wants to get out of Marchburg, go to New York, be a big shot author. I’m almost twenty years her senior and not about to uproot my life. Timing’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Wasn’t in the cards.”

The school looms on the horizon. Kate knows it’s beautiful, but there is something about it that unnerves her. All those windows, perfectly in line, the dormers watching the quad, jealously guarding the girls inside. The expansive grounds, the cottages, the arboretum. The rumors of tunnels, the very real specter of murder. She wouldn’t have enjoyed going here. The very air feels wrong, like a veil drifts between the school and the street, unseen and menacing.

They stop at the gates, which open inward with a deep, metallic shriek after Tony presses the intercom button and announces them. It’s a bit like entering a prison, only here, the inmates are upstanding teens with daddy issues. She’s shocked there aren’t cameras on every corner. Is that to protect the privacy of the daughters of the rich and famous? You’d think someplace like Goode would be running the most expensive, elaborate security money can buy. But they don’t. They use the gates, the redbrick wall, and a few security guards in golf carts to keep outsiders from ravaging their world.

What if they’ve let in someone who will ravage them from the inside?

Main Hall looks much like she’s seen it before: multicolor banners declare Odds and Evens weekend is coming, students scurry about without a care outside of getting to their next class on time. That’s another thing Kate would have hated, the uniforms, the robes. It’s all so formal, so fussy. So entirely unnecessary.

She follows Tony to the dean’s office. After a few small flirty greetings with the assistant stationed outside, he asks for her boss.

“She just finished up with a meeting. Hold on and I’ll let her know you’re here.”

It takes five, but Ford finally comes to the door, color high, a little breathless. “Tony? Anything new on Camille?”