The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (172 page)

“Et voila!”
she said happily, lifting a hand.

I looked over her shoulder. One of the files near the top was titled “Current Billings Residents.”

“No way,” I said, leaning over her to click it open. Sure enough, all the files were there, from Noelle on down to me.

“Computers hold whatever files you open for, like, ever as long as you don’t delete them,” Ivy said, getting up again and pulling the chair out for me. “I’m constantly amazed by how many people don’t know that.”

I ignored her dig at my lack of computer savvy. My heart was pounding too hard. All this time, all the info I was wishing I still
had had been right on my computer. I should have teamed up with Pemberly’s resident computer genius sooner.

Not that it ever would have crossed my mind.

“So, where should we start?” Ivy asked, practically salivating to uncover all the sordid details of the Billings Girls’ lives. So predictable.

“Let’s start with Cheyenne,” I suggested, clicking open her file. I had never had the guts to look at it before, feeling as if it was somehow wrong to look into the secrets of the dead. But now I had to believe she would have wanted us to check it out—that she would have wanted us to discover who had murdered her and to make sure that person was punished. “Makes sense, right? Maybe there’s something in her file that neither of us knows about.”

“Right,” Ivy said. But I could tell she was disappointed. Noelle’s file was probably calling out to her like the Holy Grail.

Cheyenne’s file was longer than any of the others I had looked at. I quickly scrolled through the basic details of her life—her parents’ current spouses and former lovers. Their jobs and incomes. Their real estate holdings. Cheyenne’s vitals like birth date, hobbies, awards won. The lists were huge. Cheyenne was every bit the overachiever she had always presented herself to be. And then came the list of significant relationships.

“Holy crap,” I said as Ivy whistled.

“I knew she was active, but not that active,” Ivy said.

The list went on for days. Names and dates. Some of the names had several dates next to them, indicating that Cheyenne had broken up and gotten back together with a guy several times. Many
of the dates overlapped. Some of the names were familiar, like Trey Prescott, Ennis Thatcher from Barton, and Daniel Ryan, who’d graduated from Eason a couple years ago. Dominic was on there, as was Gage. There were names of a few other guys from school, and then a ton I didn’t recognize. I scrolled through quickly, not knowing what to think. How could a girl my age possibly have gone through so many—

“Stop!” Ivy shouted suddenly.

I jumped out of my skin. “What?”

“Go back,” she said.

“God, give me a heart attack.”

“Whatever, drama queen,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes. “Scroll back up.”

Fingers shaking, I did as I was told.

“There.” Ivy pointed and squinted as she leaned so close to my shoulder that her long hair brushed my cheek. “Does that say Dustin Carmichael?”

My eyes fell on the name, but it took a second for my brain to catch up. When it did, my breath caught in my throat.

“Dustin Carmichael? As in . . .”

“Amberly’s dad,” we said in unison.

“Ew!” Ivy proclaimed, stepping back. Her face scrunched up with disgust. “The guy’s, like,
forty
!”

I felt bile rise up in my throat and swallowed it back, trying to focus. I stared at the dates next to his name. They covered the two weeks right before school had started. For two weeks, apparently, Cheyenne had somehow conducted a fling with Amberly’s father.

“I mean, I know he’s like one of the top five wealthiest men in the world, but still,” Ivy was saying. “Do you think the two of them—”

“Ivy, shut up a second,” I said, my mind racing as I turned sideways in my seat.

“Pardon me?” she replied, annoyed.

“Forget about how gross it is and focus,” I said, staring up at her. “Cheyenne had an affair with Amberly’s dad. Right before school started. Like, three or four weeks before Cheyenne was killed.”

Realization lit Ivy’s face. “You don’t think that little tartlet could have—”

“Why not? It’s a motive,” I said, standing up. “Maybe she found out about it and went into a rage. Plus, as we all know, Cheyenne’s death left an opening for Noelle to come back, which Amberly definitely wanted. She always made a point of telling everyone that she and Noelle were old friends. Maybe she figured that if Noelle came back and took over Billings, she had a shot at getting in.”

“Which is exactly what’s happened,” Ivy said, her eyes wide.

I felt a jolt of electricity between us. “I knew it! I knew there was something off about that girl. This is why she wanted the disc so badly! She was worried I might find out about her dad and Cheyenne! She was only trying to protect herself.”

“Wait. What do you mean she wanted the disc?” Ivy asked.

“I told Noelle I had a copy of this, just to scare her,” I said, gesturing at the computer. “Amberly overheard and demanded I give it to her, and when I didn’t, she totally trashed my room looking for it.”

“Oh my God,” Ivy said, paling. “She is a psycho. Although she’s
not the only person I know who’s been breaking into other people’s rooms,” she added with a knowing glance.

“You’re hilarious,” I said sarcastically.

Ivy smirked. “But wait,” she said, snatching my suspect list off my desk. “You had Amberly on here but crossed her out. Why?”

I blinked at the list. Amberly’s name had been hastily added after I noticed her Ariana-esque transformation, then slashed after I had talked to her friends. “Right. Because her roommates gave her an alibi.”

“Was it solid?” Ivy asked, gripping the page in both hands.

I tried to recall every detail of my bathroom tête-à-tête with Lara and Kirsten. How Kirsten had thought Amberly had returned to their room at the “ass crack of dawn,” and how Lara had quickly corrected her, saying it was still dark out.

“No. That girl Lara was definitely covering something up. Dammit!” I said, my foot stomping of its own accord. “I knew it. I knew I should have pressed her.”

I closed my eyes tightly and brought my hand to my head. I had been onto Amberly days ago and I had just let it go based on the crapass story of some conniving frosh. She could have easily been lying about the timing of Amberly’s return to their room that night. And if she was, it all added up. It all made sense.

“Do you think she’s our stalker, too?” Ivy asked.

I had to blink a few times for her to come into focus again. For a moment I had entirely spaced on the stalker aspect of this whole thing. “I don’t know.”

“Think about it. She kills Cheyenne, then tries to drive you crazy over it, blaming it all on you and leaving all those sadistic little gifties.”

I had related all the details of my stalking to Ivy the night before, after we had made our pact. She had been, much to my satisfaction, appropriately appalled by all of it. Apparently the girl had a human side after all.

“Maybe she thought you wouldn’t be able to handle it and would move out of Billings,” Ivy theorized. “Once Noelle was back, she was trying to create a place for herself in the dorm. Which she also succeeded in doing.”

“Plus, by getting rid of me, she could move in as Noelle’s new best friend,” I said slowly. “And I’m sure her new best friend told her what all the Billings Girls made me do for initiation last year. I can’t believe this.”

I felt suddenly faint and had to sit down on the edge of my bed. She was right. That crazy beyotch was living in
my
room, sleeping in
my
bed, using
my
private bathroom.

Oh my God. All this time Sabine had been rooming with a psycho.

“But what about the X’d-out photo in your room?” I asked Ivy.

“Obviously she planted it there, trying to pin the whole thing on me,” Ivy said, lifting a hand as she paced my tiny room. “Which also worked for a few hours. Damn, this girl is good.”

All the pieces of this massively distorted puzzle were finally fitting together.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see this before,” I mused.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is, we see it now,” Ivy said. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“We need proof,” I said firmly. “Something concrete we can take to Hauer. After what happened yesterday he’s never going to believe us on our word alone.”

Ivy smirked. “Well, lucky for us the entire dorm will be deserted tonight.”

I blinked at her, my skin tingling with realization. “Kiran’s pre-party.”

“Exactly,” Ivy said, sitting on my desk chair and slapping her hands down on her legs. “All we have to do is find a way to get in there and we can check out her room. See what we can find.”

“Luckily, I still have some friends on the inside,” I said, my pulse racing. I grabbed my iPhone off my desk and speed-dialed Sabine’s cell. It went right to voice mail. I wasn’t going to get what I wanted from her, but at least I could leave her a message. I waited for the beep and spoke quickly.

“Sabine, it’s Reed. This is going to sound insane, but I just wanted to warn you . . . I think Amberly might have been my stalker all along, so just . . . watch your back,” I said. “Call me when you get this.”

I ended the call and tried Constance next.

“Hey, Reed!” she said brightly, picking up on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“Constance, I need your Billings keycard,” I said.

“What for?” she asked.

“I have to . . . get back in my old room. I left something in there
that I need,” I improvised, glancing at Ivy. She nodded her approval at my story.

“Oh, well, I can get it for you,” Constance offered.

I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my free hand. Sometimes Constance’s helpful side was really unhelpful. “Actually, it’s kind of hidden and it would be too hard to explain where it is. I was thinking I’d just go in there tonight after Amberly and Sabine go out and get it.”

There was a short pause before Constance said, “Okay. That’s fine.”

I looked at Ivy and flashed a quick thumbs-up. “Oh, and Constance, don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I’m sure they would all freak out if they knew I was getting back in, even for five minutes.”

“I totally understand. My lips are sealed,” Constance said. “I’ll slip you the card at lunch and just get someone to let me in after.”

“Constance, what would I do without you?” I asked.

I could practically feel the heat of her blush through the phone. “Reed! It’s no big deal. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

I signed off the phone and held it in both hands to stop the nervous quaking. With a grim smile I looked up at Ivy.

“We’re in.”

Stepping over the threshold of Billings was like walking into my old middle school after I’d graduated. I should have felt at home there, but the sites felt weirdly unfamiliar. Like the place had moved on. Like the very walls knew I should no longer be there. I felt a skitter of apprehension as Ivy grabbed the banister and mounted the stairs. The first step creaked in the silence.

“Reed!” she hissed. “Let’s go!”

She was dressed in head-to-toe black like a cat burglar from a cartoon. I was wearing my gold minidress and my long wool coat, fully planning on still making the party bus to Kiran’s party when we were done here.

“I’m coming,” I replied through my teeth.

Together we raced up the stairs to the top floor, where my old room was located. I pointed out the door to Ivy. My heart pounded like I’d
just sucked down eight cups of espresso. This was way too weird.
Way
too weird.

But when Ivy opened the door, it just got weirder.

My side of the room had been completely taken over by the Care Bear brigade. Everything was done in pastels. Pink bedspread, fluffy light blue and yellow pillows, an eyelet bed skirt. Amberly had even had a ribbon tent suspended from the ceiling over her bed, draping down over the mattress like she was some kind of Disney princess. On the walls were framed photos of her and a girl who could only be her little sister, grinning in front of various wonders of the world. The Taj Mahal. The Great Wall of China. The Pyramids. I would have been impressed if the photos weren’t so oddly stiff. Like she had Photo-Shopped the two of them into magazine cutouts or something.

“This girl needs professional help,” Ivy said, indicating a collection of porcelain dolls set up along the top shelf above my old desk. Their eyes stared out at us blankly from beneath perfectly placed ringlets.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I said.

“I’m down,” Ivy replied.

She turned on Amberly’s desk lamp so that we could see without the help of the light from the hallway, and I closed the door quietly behind us. I immediately attacked the desk drawers while Ivy dropped to the floor and pulled a few boxes out from under the bed. All I found was a massive collection of Hello Kitty office supplies. Ivy uncovered a box full of crafting materials and a collection of poetry books.

“Anything?” I asked as Ivy flipped through some of the books, hoping something incriminating might fall out.

“Nothing,” she said.

“I got the closet,” I told her.

“I’ll get the dresser,” Ivy offered.

My pulse pounded as I dug through the shoe boxes on the floor and the stacks of books and clothes on the shelves above. Ivy slammed each drawer as she finished with it, and with each slam my heart jumped a bit higher in my throat.

“Would you
stop
doing that?” I whispered.

“There’s nothing here!” Ivy replied without apology. Clearly she was already growing frustrated. “Maybe the bathroom.”

She turned around and slammed right into the end of Sabine’s bed. The mattress lurched and knocked into the bedside table, causing a candle and frame to topple to the floor with the unmistakable sound of cracking glass.

“Shit,” Ivy said under her breath.

“I got it,” I told her, walking over to pick up Sabine’s things.

I placed the candle down and checked the frame over. Sure enough, there was a crack right through the center of the glass. Crap. Looked like I owed Sabine a new frame. I was about to pop it open to remove the shards, when I saw something odd in the photo, right beneath the crack.