Twisted Circles (Secret Society 2)

“I don’t know anything about her. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“They don’t know much about her either, not really. I’ll give you her clothes, her apartment, her car, and you can go from there.” He paused. “They’re having a party tonight. She would have gone to that.”

“And you want me to go as her.”

“Please. The only way to find out what really happens in these societies is to join one of them. Detective Barry can’t do it. I can’t do it. You’re the only one who can. Stella needs you.”

“Stella,” I repeated.

“Stella Thompson,” he said.

“Stella Thompson.” I tried it on, then again. The third time I repeated it, I tripped over the last name. “Thompson as in the neuroscientist? Aren’t you running for office?”

“You’re up to date with current events.” Detective Barry raised an eyebrow.

“The signs are hard to miss. And he treated my father after he had a stroke,” I said, looking toward the glass. I’d been too young but Karen never let me forget that name. She’d felt indebted to him for working pro bono.

“I hope he’s well,” Dr. Thompson said.

“He’s dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He paused for a beat before asking, “Will you do this? Will you help us find my daughter?”

“I have another question.”

“Ask.”

“If people know she’s missing and the cops alerted the people in The Manor, wouldn’t it be a little strange for me . . . or her . . . to show up?”

“No one else knows she’s missing. The reason I do is because she didn’t show up for breakfast yesterday and we always have breakfast together. And her phone stopped tracking the minute she got near that house.”

“You track her phone?” I balked at the mirror.

“Yes and I’ll track yours if you’re going to do this.”

“Seriously?” I blinked. “Are you going to pay for my phone bill too?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Oh. Okay then. I guess you can track it.”

“You’ll do this?” That was Detective Barry, who almost looked like he wanted me to turn it down, but wasn’t at the liberty to say that.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Stella Thompson was a far cry from Eva Guerra, but then again, so was everything else about her life, it seemed. It didn’t matter though. She was my sister and I’d accept her for whoever she was, as I’m sure she’d do the same for me.

Chapter Two

On our way to The Manor, Dr. Thompson filled me in on a few things—Stella’s major and schedule. He drove his fancy Audi as I stared straight ahead, trying to memorize the roads we were on. I’d placed my backpack by my feet, but Dr. Thompson had reached to the backseat and given me a brown leather MCM backpack that belonged to Stella.

“So everything will be consistent,” he said, eyeing my hair. “Maybe I should take you to the hair salon first.”

And he did. Without even calling ahead, we showed up at Ellis’s most prestigious salon, and were seated and treated within five minutes. I’d never been to a hair salon before. Not like that. They’d given me champagne, and unlike Detective Barry, no one batted an eyelash at whether or not I was of age. A nice man with purple and pink locks, trimmed my ends and conditioned my hair before styling it into pretty loose waves. My hair had been a cross between curly and beach waves from relaxing treatments and a perpetual wash-and-go routine, and this was a far cry from that. A nice girl that couldn’t have been much older than me did light makeup after waxing my eyebrows and then took me into a back room to wax other parts of me. The entire experience was excruciatingly amazing. By the time I stepped out of the salon and back into Dr. Thompson’s car, I felt like a brand-new person. His eyes looked haunted when he saw me, and I was reminded what my purpose here was to begin with.

“I have a suitcase in the trunk with her things in it. You’ll take it with you to The Manor and use it. You’ll also have access to her apartment, but by the time you run out of clothes I fully expect this nightmare to be over,” he said as he drove.

“What is she like?” I looked over in time to catch his slight smile.

“She’s funny, smart, kind. She’s reserved. Extremely devout in her faith.”

“Really?” I looked over at him quickly, feeling myself smile. “I am too, despite the arrest record.”

“She wanted to become a nun.” He met my eyes briefly. “Her brother and I talked her out of it. It would be a waste to have such a brilliant mind and beautiful face in a convent for the rest of her life.”

“She has a brother?”

“Gilbert. He’s seventeen and studying abroad right now. Good kid.”

“Abroad where? Is he also adopted?”