Chapter 18

Back in the hotel lobby, it was mayhem. People were crawling around scrutinizing floor tiles, slithering under benches, shoving their hands into the fountain, moving potted plants, and generally getting in each other’s ways. I went out onto the dark terrace, which had been cleared off in readiness for the next portion of the Gala—they were moving us out of the Red Barn Event Hall for the “Dance Beneath the Stars.” The rustic metal lanterns on poles along the sides had not yet been illuminated, so I switched on my cell phone flashlight and swept the ground from side to side, looking for the ring. When I’d almost covered the whole area, my beam landed on a pair of white lace-up boots.

“Hello, Lila.”

I raised the light to see Simone’s face with parallel trails of smeared mascara on her cheeks. She put one hand up to block the brightness and sniffled into a tissue with the other. Her eyes were unfocused.

I turned off my phone. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not. I don’t know what to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

She downed the last bit of champagne from a slim flute and rested it on the iron railing. “I’m talking about Selene.” She was slurring her words. “You heard all that at dinner, so you know what’s going on. And you’re the one who found her stupid empty notebook in the first place.”

“I did, but I don’t know what it means.”

“Of course you don’t. No one does. But I’m going to tell you.” She kicked the ground with her heel. “What it means is this: Selene has a history of troubles. I’ve helped her as much as I can. We’ve always been able to keep it private before. But it’s out in the open this time, and she doesn’t even seem to care!”

“What kind of troubles?”

Simone spun her neck lanyard, causing her badge to flip backwards and forwards. “Concentrating. Behaving. Making choices. Controlling herself. Telling the truth.”

The last thing—at the very least—seemed to run in the family.

“It’s one reason my parents wanted her in Stonedale. I was supposed to keep an eye on her. But you got the job, so instead she ended up far away with none of us there to help her.”

I didn’t say anything. The lanterns along the sides began to glow, emitting a soft white light. Someone inside must have taken pity on us and turned them on.

“In the past, I’ve been able to do the work. Cover for her.”

“In what ways?”

Simone flicked her slim wrist outward. “In all the ways. But this time, she made it impossible. Both the book and the chapter we were co-writing are dead in the water.”

“Did you know Selene hadn’t written anything?” I asked, as gently as I could. No sense in pretending I hadn’t figured out what had happened.

“No!” Simone fiddled with her lanyard again. “She kept saying that it was coming along nicely. Her plan was that we’d slip away on Saturday, she’d give me the manuscript to read, and we’d have a long talk about it in person.”

“But then they scheduled the awards panel on Saturday.”

“Yes. Still, she said we’d go to a little bistro afterwards, where I could read it.”

“But then she fainted instead at the end of our panel.”

Simone laughed bitterly. “So convenient, no?”

Even Simone thought her sister had faked it.

She picked up the glass and peered at the empty bottom, then set it gently back down. “You know, Lila, during this time, I could have been finishing my own book. I wrote the proposal. I wrote the sample chapters. We were accepted based on the strength of my writing on Brontë. Yet I ended up without a contract. All because Selene dragged me down with her. And it’s not the first time. She has been a burden to me her whole life!” She put her hand over her heart and looked down. “I’ve never admitted that aloud before. I can’t believe I said that.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Anything I can do?”

She lifted her head to meet my eyes. “Find me another champagne?”

“How about some coffee instead?”

Simone shook her head. “No. I need to forget all of this. And I need to speak to Beckett.”

“Why?”

She drew herself up and spoke deliberately. “He was my fiancé first. Mine. I never would have treated him this way. She’s gone too far.”

I flashed back to our first year at Stonedale, the way I’d noticed a diamond on Simone’s hand catch the light at a mentoring meeting, and gasped. No wonder Selene’s ring seemed familiar. “It’s the same ring?”

“Yes, and I loved that ring, Lila. Cherished it. She treats it like it’s a costume piece. So careless.” Her eyes narrowed. “Selene tricked him, you know. She pretended to be me and slept with him one winter break. Then she told him she was pregnant. He broke up with me and proposed to her out of a sense of duty. He’s an honorable man. Then she told him she lost the baby, but...”

“There was no baby,” I guessed.

“Correct.”

“He stayed with her?”

“He feels protective of her.” She swiped at her eyes again. “I literally threw myself at him during the square dance—right into his arms—to remind him of what we had. But there’s no chance for us. He loves her now.”

I thought back to seeing Selene embrace Beckett while we were busy promenading. Only it hadn’t been Selene. It had been Simone.

Now the argument that had immediately followed made sense.

And I was surprised about Simone’s behavior. I hadn’t figured her for the kind of woman who would try and steal her sister’s fiancé.

Well, steal him back.

Did that make it better? It was all very complicated.

“She’s always acted this way,” Simone went on. “My parents explained to me at a young age that I shouldn’t blame her, that she can’t help it. It’s just how she’s made, is how they put it. I had to be the strong one and look out for her, they said.”

Wow. A lifetime of not only having to look the other way but also feeling responsible for your twin’s bad behavior?

“And they made it clear that I’d need to take care of her. No matter what.”

Make that responsible for her, period. That must have been so difficult.

“I am furious with her and...and...my whole family.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Except please keep this between us. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just...I cannot carry this around anymore. Not for one more minute.”

I remembered with a jolt that Selene had made Simone her maid of honor. Talk about cruel. I wondered if Simone still truly loved Beckett.

Or if Selene even loved him at all.

Beckett didn’t think so.

Simone continued. “She told me you saw her sneaking out of Flynn’s room in the morning. Did you tell Becks?”

“No.”

She nodded her approval. “Better that she tells him herself. Or maybe not tell him at all. I don’t think he could handle any sort of infidelity.”

“He already knows about Flynn. Not this weekend, but—”

With a gasp, Simone jumped to her feet. “Oh no. I have to go to him. How does he know?”

“When Selene lost her ring, I showed him a picture from the book, thinking it might be useful to post it online somewhere or at least show it around, so people knew what they were looking for. He took it to mean—”

“Flynn’s desk? Oh Lila, how could you? He’ll be heartbroken. He’s not as strong as you and I are.”

“I didn’t know. I was just trying to help—”

But she was already gone, in a flurry of white silk.

  

On my way back to the barn, I started to get that conflicted feeling I had much of the time Simone spoke to me, which was an authentic desire to believe her competing with hard-won knowledge that most of the things she said were likely to be partially or completely untrue. Sometimes I forgot who she’d shown herself to be and trusted her again. Which usually didn’t turn out very well. She had a tendency to shift behaviors right when I’d let down my guard.

Part of me was surprised that Simone had complained about her sister, to me of all people. The other part of me wondered why. Was it due to the vast quantity of champagne she had apparently imbibed? Or was she desperate to unburden herself by telling someone—anyone—as she’d admitted? Or was she spinning lies for her own mysterious purposes? It was hard to know which side of the truth-o-meter she was on tonight.

But this conversation had felt authentic. I couldn’t explain what was different about it. I believed her, though, I realized with shock.

Wrapped in my musings, I was halfway down the path before Lex darted toward me from the shadows.

I ignored the hand he held out to me and kept going.

Wait. I just hung out on purpose with Simone Freakin’ Raleigh but didn’t want to come within ten feet of my actual boyfriend. Everything was upside down.

“Lila, please.” His voice broke, softening my resolve. I stopped moving while he caught up to me. “It wasn’t what it looked like. Helena just returned from her job in London.”

“That’s her name? Helena?”

“Yes. And it’s true that I hugged her, and she kissed me on the lips—”

“I saw that part,” I said coldly. “Don’t need the recap.”

“—but she just did it out of habit.”

“Out of habit?”

“Some people are kissers.” He threw his hands up, exasperated, which irritated me further. He did not get to be the exasperated one here.

“Wow.”

“Lila, we’re separated. We haven’t gotten divorced, but we aren’t together. I’m with you.”

“You didn’t even mention her. Not once in all that time.”

“Because Helena and I weren’t together when we started seeing each other. And you and I were so off and on again...it never felt like the right time. I may have been afraid of what you’d say. I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. We can sort it out right now.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

I hadn’t told him about the time my first love broke my heart by cheating on me. He’d walked out of a party with someone else in front of me—I still had nightmares about that moment where I couldn’t speak or stop him. Tonight had brought up all of those complex feelings of rage, shame, and grief.

“It was innocent. I swear. I would never do anything to hurt you. Never, Lila. She planted one on me before I knew what was happening and then you bumped into us.” He stared into my eyes, pleading. “We can go talk to her right now. She’s still here.”

“Why is she at the hotel in the first place?”

“She went looking for me at the station—”

“Why?”

“I told you. She just got back to the states and wanted to see me.”

When I didn’t reply, he hurriedly added, “We’re still friends. But as I said, we’re separated.”

“Does she know that you’re separated, Lex? Because it doesn’t sound to me like she does.”

“Come talk to her. She’ll corroborate what I’m saying.”

“Corroborate? This isn’t one of your cases.”

“I know. But Helena felt bad after I told her that you’d seen us and thought we were together.”

“Oh, Helena felt bad. Well, then. By all means, let’s make her feel better.”

“You know that I feel terrible too.”

“Be that as it may—”

“Lila, I love you. Don’t throw this away.”

“You...wait, did you just say that you love me?” Suddenly I didn’t care so much about Helena.

“I did.”

“You really do?”

He nodded, his blue eyes never moving from mine. “I do.”

I paused and took stock of my feelings. It didn’t take long. For better or for worse, I trusted this man. I believed what he was saying about Helena. And I wasn’t going to let a misunderstanding ruin the first time he told me he loved me.

“That’s good, Lex, because I love you too,” I whispered. “Though this is a heck of a time to have told me. Couldn’t you have waited until we weren’t in the middle of a fight?”

“No. I couldn’t wait any longer. It needed to be said. And we never seem to do anything the normal way, Lila. Haven’t you noticed that yet?” He took my hand.

“I have indeed. No more secrets, though. I mean it.”

“No more secrets. I promise.”

Some kissing followed. It seemed important to commemorate the exchange of such feelings with solid action.

Which was followed by some talking.

And a bit more kissing.

By the time he pulled out a tube of lip balm to replenish moisture balance, we were back on track, relationship-wise.

Or maybe even a little bit ahead. He’d told me all about Helena and their youthful but short-lived marriage. I’d shared a few things too.

As we walked back to the barn, I recounted the conversation with Simone.

He listened carefully.

“Do you think Selene may be dangerous, Lex? Do you think she killed Flynn?”

“She has been doing some strange things. No question about that. But why would she kill him?”

“Maybe she fell in love with him, told him she wanted more from the relationship, and he refused. Judging from dinner tonight—”

“What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in on that later, but the point I’m trying to make is that I don’t think she’s someone who can handle rejection well.”

Lex nodded. “Do we know for sure that it was in fact a relationship between Selene and Flynn, not just a one-night stand?”

“I don’t know, but the picture of the ring on his desk is what set Beckett off. She convinced him they’d had a short fling that had been over for a long time.” I paused. “I didn’t mention the sleepover on Friday night. It doesn’t seem like something I should report to him, you know?”

“Hmmm. I still think he has more motive than anyone else.” Lex pulled out his phone. “I think we need to bring him in. But first...we’re good, right? You and me?”

“Yes, Detective. I’d even say better than good.”

He made arrangements while we continued down the path, and I had an idea. As he continued his conversation, I pointed to the hotel. He nodded to indicate that he understood and I sprinted—well, hobbled since the platform shoes were getting more uncomfortable by the second—to the registration desk.

“Hello! May I help you?” A round-faced man greeted me cheerfully. He had a mop of red curls and was dressed in a bright green tunic and hose instead of the somber hotel attire I’d seen on everyone else at the desk. Didn’t know if he was channeling a character in the spirit of the Gala or if it was how he dressed all the time.

“Hello—”

“Mickey,” he interjected, pointing to his nametag.

“Mickey. Do you have a lost-and-found?”

He reached under the counter and felt around, then pulled out a box triumphantly. “What are you looking for?”

“A ring.” I pulled up the photo on my cell and showed it to him. He gave it a long stare, as if he were memorizing the shape, then set down the phone.

“Let’s see what we have.” As he scrabbled through the box and removed the items, I was somewhat surprised to see what emerged.

A necklace made of plastic teeth.

A threadbare wash cloth.

A canvas sneaker with frayed laces.

A polka-dotted raccoon toy with one eye.

A flashlight that did not turn on when Mickey clicked the button.

A half-roll of breath mints.

A key chain with a unicorn on it, devoid of keys.

And a plastic purple octopus.

“Oh, I know who that one belongs to,” I said, making a grab for the octopus. I’d give it to Nate later.

“Alas, no ring.” Mickey said sadly. “You’re, like, the twentieth person to ask me to look for that tonight.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d already looked?” We could have saved ourselves some time.

“I hoped we would find the ring inside. You see, this box is enchanted. Sometimes you look inside twice and don’t see something, but then the third time—poof!—it’s there.” He eyed the interior, as if trying to discern the mechanism that made that happen.

“Maybe someone turns the found item in before you check. You know, in between your shifts.”

He stared at me. It was obvious that it was first time he’d considered the possibility that something other than enchantment was responsible for the appearance of objects in the box.

Though he didn’t entertain the theory for long.

“Nah. It’s magic.” Mickey snatched the box from me and tucked it carefully back in its spot, giving it a little pat.

“Thank you for your help.”

“Sure thing. Always happy to look inside the enchanted box. I’ve seen a lot of things you wouldn’t believe working at this desk.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Trust me.”

Well, that just got weird.