Chapter
Five
I enter conference room three in the library promptly at three thirty to find eight panicked girls sitting around the table, all of them deathly serious. Deathly pale.
Deathly quiet.
We are normally not a quiet bunch. Not by a long shot. So I know they’re all affected by Gretchen’s death, not that I can blame them. Only a few days ago, she sat at this very table with us, laughing and trying to take command of the entire meeting, as was her usual way. I always found that so irritating.
Now I know I’m going to miss it. Miss her.
“Ladies.” I smile at them and take the seat at the head of the table. Dani sits to my right, Courtney to my left. The rest of the girls watch me, their eyes wide and unblinking, some even shining with unshed tears. I decide a gentle approach is best. I don’t want to make any of them sadder than they already are, so I need to remain strong and hold it together. “I know this is a difficult day, and I appreciate you coming to the meeting.”
“What are we going to do to honor Gretchen?” asks Alyssa. She’s one of the new members of the Larks, and I’ve learned fast she has a soft heart. As in, she’s blatantly crying at this very moment, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“They’re having a candlelight vigil for her tonight at seven,” adds Maggie, another one of our new Larks. “Coach Smith is giving a speech and everything.”
The volleyball coach adored Gretchen. To the point that we all found it sort of weird, how seemingly…obsessed she was with Gretchen.
“We should make a donation in her honor,” Dani suggests. “What was her favorite charity?”
“Good idea. She loved the animal shelter.” Gretchen much preferred animals to people. “Let’s also send flowers to the vigil.” I open my notes section and write myself a reminder. “Is someone providing a photo of her?”
“I don’t know,” Courtney starts, and I turn to look at her.
“Find out,” I say gently, and she immediately starts texting someone. God knows who.
Courtney is well connected. Not only is her family a huge donor to Cape Bonita Prep, but she also assists in the office, she’s in student council, she’s a cheerleader, she’s dated the quarterback of the football team—a few other members of the football team, too, but let’s not talk about that at this time—and she knows freaking everyone.
Everyone.
She’s my source. When I can’t figure something out, Courtney always can.
“Did anyone else talk to the cops?” This comes from Alexis, a fellow senior, a fellow cheerleader, my nemesis. But I heed the words, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” because Alexis Nguyen is my absolute worst enemy.
And she feels the same exact way about me. We’ve been in competition for the same positions since elementary school. Leads in the school plays, positions on teams, a few times that we’ve fought over a boy…she’s always my direct competition.
We get along because we have to. We share the same inner circle. We’re “friends.” Everyone believes it, except for us. We know the truth. We barely tolerate each other most of the time.
“What do you mean, talk to the cops?” Maggie asks. She’s a junior. Very enthusiastic. Almost too enthusiastic, if you know what I mean. She usually steps up and volunteers for everything.
“I was briefly questioned,” I say quietly, wanting them to know I’m just like them. “Were you, Lex?”
Alexis nods, rolls her eyes. “The young one was cute, but rude.”
“I was questioned, too,” Courtney says, sounding bored. “I think it’s standard procedure. Nothing to get our panties in a twist over.”
“They talked to me,” Dani says, her eyes wide. I really hope she doesn’t lose it and start crying again. I don’t mind as much if the juniors do, but they’re young. They haven’t heard the “stay strong, we’re Larks” speech enough times yet.
Because that’s what Larks do. We stay strong. We are the ones others can lean on. We’re leaders who are committed to helping others. We support our school, our community, those who are in need. Those who are troubled and lost.
And now we’ve lost one of our own. This is not the time for us to fall apart.
Even though I’m pretty sure we all want to—at least secretly.
“They questioned us because we were Gretchen’s friends,” I remind Dani, patting her arm. “They’re probably going to question everyone who was close to Gretchen.”
“I hated her.” This comes from Courtney. The juniors gasp, even Dani. Alexis doesn’t look surprised by her statement, and I’m really not, either, but I wouldn’t make that sort of declaration out loud, for the love of God.
The girl’s been gone not even twenty-four hours yet. Show some respect.
“God, why would you say that?” Alyssa asks, sounding horrified. She shakes her head, her long, curly black hair swaying around her shoulders. “You should never speak ill of the dead!”
Courtney shrugs. “We never really got along. She’s a man stealer.”
I raise a brow. “She stole your man?” What boy is Courtney even talking about?
Now Court just looks irritated. “There was someone I was…interested in, and she snatched him up before we were through.”
“Through with what? Hooking up?” Lex smirks.
Courtney glares. “Shut the hell up, whore.”
Lex’s eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t look offended. “Funny, you talk about random hookups and call me a whore, all in one breath.”
“Please, stop arguing. Gretchen’s gone. We shouldn’t talk bad about her,” I say, sounding weary because I so am. I’ve heard this sort of argument between them before. And sometimes Gretchen was involved, too.
Let’s be real—these girls are all the same. As in, they’re all banging the same guy at one point or another. High quality males who are potential boyfriend material at this school and in the nearby vicinity are hard to come by. So they end up…sharing. Not on purpose. Never on purpose, because ew.
So yeah. They steal each other’s “man” all the time. And if one calls the other a whore, then they’re all whores together. You know what I mean?
But I’m not one to slut shame so…
“Coach Smith is already having a poster made out of Gretchen’s senior portrait,” Courtney announces, smoothly changing the subject. “She just texted to let me know.”
“Awesome. Dani, will you order the flowers for tonight?” I ask.
Dani nods and whips out her phone. “No problem. Anything else?”
“I assume Sally is providing the candles and cups for the vigil?” I look at Courtney, who sends off another text to the volleyball coach to ask her. “I think that’s everything we need to talk about today. I hope to see you all there tonight. We should be a solid unit, showing our support and love for Gretchen.”
The words feel like obvious lies as they fall from my lips. I am just like Courtney. I would never wish anyone dead. Once upon a time, Gretchen and I were friends. But the last couple of years, our bad moments far outnumbered the good. I don’t know where it went wrong, but we weren’t close. Not at all.
Maggie raises her hand, her freckled face wary. She looks downright scared to ask a question, and I do my best to smile pleasantly at her. “You okay, Maggie?”
She nods, dropping her hand to her lap. “Maybe we should make signs? They could say, ‘We love you, Gretchen.’ Or, ‘Heaven gained an angel today.’ Something like that?”
“If you want to head up sign making for Gretchen’s vigil, I say go for it. That’s a great idea,” I tell her, and she looks pleased.
At least I can pass the project on to a bunch of juniors. There are only four of us seniors now, what with Gretchen gone. And the last thing I want to think about is a replacement. Though tradition states we need an equal number of seniors to juniors.
For once, I think we’re going to have to buck tradition. At least temporarily.
Maggie puts together a sign-making group—basically all the juniors. They’ll head to her house as soon as the meeting is finished, and I go ahead and declare it over, because what else can we hash out? It doesn’t feel right to talk about serious Lark business when Gretchen is dead.
I leave the library with Courtney and Dani, all of us walking together to the mostly empty parking lot.
“Court is giving me a ride,” Dani tells me just as we’re about to part. “See you tonight, right?”
“Absolutely,” I say with a nod, hugging Dani close when she embraces me. If Courtney weren’t here, I’d let Dani cry in my arms, but I pull away from her instead, offering a reassuring smile. “You’ll be there early?”
“For sure,” Courtney chimes in, answering for Dani. “Dani and I will come together. Want us to pick you up? I don’t mind.”
“I’m okay with driving.”
“You don’t mind going alone?” Dani asks, concern lacing her voice, filling her eyes.
“I’ll be fine. See ya.” I smile at them and wave before I turn and head toward my car. The sun is shining but I can see the clouds in the near distance, hovering over the ocean. The breeze is crisp and cool, slightly salty. Feels like a storm is coming.
Fitting, what with the somber mood today.
As I approach my car, I see someone standing beside it. Two someones.
The police detectives—Spalding and Hughes.
I stop short, staring at both of them before plastering on a polite smile. Detective Hughes is leaning against my BMW like he freaking owns it, the jerk. But what am I supposed to do, tell him to step away from my car?
He’s a cop. And I’m a…possible suspect?
I do my best to keep my smile pasted on, but it’s shaky at best. “Hello,” I greet them.
“Miss Malone.” Detective Spalding nods and takes a step forward, his smile kind, though his expression is bland. The complete opposite of Hughes right now—he’s glaring at me like he wants to throw me to the ground and cuff me. “Glad we caught you before you left campus.”
“What’s going on?” I stop near the back end of my car, keeping my distance just in case Detective Hughes decides he really does want to cuff me.
I’d give anything to have Mrs. Adney or Mr. Rose here with me. I’m not comfortable talking to the cops alone.
“We were speaking with Barbara Nelson earlier—Gretchen’s mother. She mentioned a tiny detail we found rather interesting, and we were wondering if you knew anything about it.”
“Isn’t this illegal? Your questioning me?” I frown, unease slithering down my spine. Why are they questioning me here in the parking lot? When they both remain quiet, I decide I might as well ask another question. “What did she say?”
“She told us Gretchen texted her while she was at volleyball practice, letting her know she was going to a surprise Larks meeting,” Detective Hughes explains, stepping forward so he’s standing next to Spalding. “Did you call a surprise meeting yesterday afternoon?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Who’s the person who normally organizes Larks meetings?”
“Me,” I admit shakily.
“But you didn’t organize this one?”
“No,” I repeat. “I didn’t. I don’t know who would do that.”
“Neither do we,” Spalding says easily, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his pants.
“Maybe Gretchen was lying to her mother,” I suggest. I wouldn’t put it past her. She’d done it before. So have I. Haven’t we all?
“Did she do that often?”
“I don’t know. Probably?”
“Do you lie to your parents very often, Miss Malone?”
“No.” Funny how one word can sound guilty.
Spalding decides to change tactics. “Did you and Gretchen spend a lot of time together?”
“We weren’t that close.” Not anymore.
Hughes looks surprised. “Really? I thought all the Larks were close.”
“We work together. Some of us are friends. Some of us aren’t.” I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, like he suspects me of…what? Gretchen’s murder?
As if. Maybe they should take a look at that creepy Cass Vincenti. Though really, maybe that’s unfair. What does Cass have to do with this? What do any of us have to do with Gretchen’s murder? Beyond providing information on her whereabouts, no one at school is responsible.
At least, I don’t think anyone at school is responsible.
“We might need to call you down to the station to question you further, Miss Malone. Do you have a problem with that?” Detective Spalding asks, his voice kind yet his expression serious.
“You’ll have to talk to my dad,” I tell them, lifting my chin, hoping I look stronger than I feel. “He’s a lawyer.”
“Ah.” Spalding nods like that explains everything. “Well, we’ll be in contact with him soon, then.”
Dread washes over me, but I pretend I’m fine, hitting the button on my keyless remote so my car doors unlock. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have a candlelight vigil to get ready for.” Oh, I sound megaconfident. Where did that come from?
“Talk to you soon, Penelope,” Hughes says as I climb into the car. I shut the door before he can say anything else.
I wait until they walk away before I reach out to start the car. But it’s hard.
My hands won’t stop shaking.