Sweet Deceit (Privilege 4)

Ariana was too proud of herself for words.

“She was going to kill me, Ana,” Lexa said. “But you . . . you stopped her.”

For a long moment, Lexa and Ariana looked into each other’s eyes, and Ariana knew that Lexa understood. The two of them were bonded for life. And Lexa no longer had the power to hold anything over Ariana’s head ever again.

“The police will understand,” Lexa said, reaching into her bag for their phone. “You were just trying to help me.”

“But what if they don’t?” Ariana said, her bottom lip trembling as she shoved herself up from the couch. Lexa’s brows came together and Ariana looked around the room wildly, as if confused—terrified. “What if they think . . . what if they think we murdered her?”

“What? Why would they think that?” Lexa said, getting up as well. She fiddled with her cell phone with both hands.

“Think about it, Lex,” Ariana said desperately, throwing her hands out. “You were hiring a PI to look into Lillian’s past. It’s going to look like you had something against her.”

Lexa whirled around to face the door, one hand flying to her mouth. “Omigod. Dove! He’s on his way here right now!”

She hit a speed dial button on her cell phone. Ariana knew what Lexa was about to do, and that it was pointless, but she let her do it anyway.

“Hi, Mr. Dove? It’s Lexa Greene. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make our meeting,” Lexa said into the phone.

Then she flinched and hit the off button.

“What’d he say?” Ariana asked.

“He said ‘I know that, schizo,’ and hung up,” Lexa replied, looking baffled but relieved.

Ariana bit her tongue to keep from laughing. It was now time to deal the final blow. To get this thing moving so they could both get on with their lives.

“Wait. What about your parents?” she said, her eyes wide. “They’re not—”

“Omigod. My parents.” Lexa pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “My father . . . this would destroy his career,” she said, dropping her arms again. “An attempt on my life? A murderer in his house? He’s already been dragged through the mud the past few weeks, but this . . . he’d never recover. And he’d kill me.”

Ariana stepped forward and slipped the cell phone from Lexa’s fingers. She turned it off and tossed it on the couch. “Then we definitely cannot call the police,” Ariana told her, squeezing her hand. “You make that call and within ten minutes this place will be crawling with detectives and dogs and CSI guys. Not to mention about a hundred reporters, a news helicopter, and a million papa razzi.”

“You’re right,” Lexa said, nodding. “We have to make this go away.”

Spoken like a good politician’s daughter, Ariana thought wryly.

Lexa stared at the body, the legs dangling against the wall, the head and arms trailing into the backyard.

“What about her family?” Lexa said slowly.

“As far as we know she doesn’t even have any,” Ariana reminded Lexa.

“But what if she does? What if they come looking for her?” Lexa asked tremulously.

“Then we just tell them Lillian up and left one morning. No note, no anything. And we have no idea where she went.”

“Do you think that will work?” Lexa asked, looking into Ariana’s eyes. Looking for assurances. Some way to assuage her fear and guilt. Ariana stared back, trying to be the picture of certainty she knew her friend needed.

“I haven’t seen her call a soul since she’s been here. She never mentioned brothers or sisters or parents,” Ariana said in a firm tone. “Maybe Soomie was right. Maybe she was a poseur. Maybe she stole her identity. But trust me, whatever the case may be, Lillian Oswald does not exist.” She took both Lexa’s hands now, her friend’s fingers cold inside her warm grip. “Don’t let a ghost ruin your life. Not to mention your father’s career.”

Lexa nodded slowly, then sniffled. “You’re right. Okay. What do we do?”

“We need to find somewhere to bury the body.”

Lexa turned and paced away from Ariana, away from the horror of Kaitlynn’s corpse, bringing her fingers to her mouth as she thought.

“The pet cemetery,” she said, whirling around. “It’s in the very back of the yard. My mom never goes back there because it makes her too sad. If we put her under the rosebushes back there, no one will notice.”