Two Truths and a Lie

25 SOUND THE ALARM

That night, Emma angled the Volvo into Charlotte’s circular driveway and turned off the ignition. The Chamberlains lived in a six-bedroom stone home with two balconies that protruded from the second floor. Its grandeur still took Emma’s breath away, even though she’d been there several times. She’d never known anyone with this kind of money.

Laurel unlocked her car door and slid out, not bothering to thank Emma for the ride. They’d come together because they didn’t want to bring too many cars to the party and tip off the cops. Emma had considered ditching Laurel at home to pay her back for abandoning her at tennis so many times, but she figured that wouldn’t help to repair their rift.

Before either of them could ring the bell, the door swung open and Madeline smiled back at them, dressed in a bright red ruched dress that stopped at mid-thigh. “Hello, dah-lings!” she cried dramatically. “Welcome to dinner! You both look smashing!”

“Thanks,” Emma said bashfully, looking down at the emerald green one-shouldered number she’d found in Sutton’s closet. She’d agonized over choosing an outfit, trying on at least six dresses before settling on this one. She’d wanted something especially pretty to go with her newly styled hair and carefully applied makeup. This was the first time she and Ethan would be seen together in public, and nosy gossip-hounds would no doubt be taking tons of pictures for Facebook and Twitter. It was ironic: At her old schools, Emma secretly longed to be part of the popular crowds whose personal lives were splashed across the pages of social media sites. But now that she was one of those girls, she just wanted to be left alone.

The grass is always greener, I suppose.

Laurel and Emma followed Madeline down a long hallway that led to the Chamberlains’ massive kitchen. It looked just like the display kitchens in House Beautiful that Glenda, Alex’s mom, was always tearing pages from and stuffing into a folder she marked DREAM HOUSE. The air smelled of pot roast, fresh bread, and—of course—Charlotte’s Chanel Chance perfume. For a moment, Emma’s gaze flickered to the kitchen island where the unknown assailant had come up behind her and held Sutton’s locket to her throat.

Except that the assailant wasn’t unknown anymore. It was Thayer. Emma glanced at Madeline, feeling an awkward twinge. What would Mads do when she found out her beloved brother was a murderer? She’d be doubly shattered: Not only would she discover that her best friend was dead, but she’d lose Thayer, too.

“Sodas, girls?” Charlotte appeared from behind the refrigerator door. She was wearing a tight black dress with leather triangles that crisscrossed her slightly ample midsection. It was a dress Emma wasn’t one hundred percent sure looked good on her, but she didn’t dare say anything.

“Too bad it can’t be champagne!” a voice trilled. Mrs. Chamberlain appeared from the dining room and placed a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “If you girls skipped that party and hung out here for the night, I’d crack open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot for you. But I can’t have you drinking and driving!”

“That’s okay, Mom,” Charlotte said, looking a little embarrassed. If there were a Real Housewives of Tucson, Charlotte’s mom would be a shoo-in for a cast member. She looked ten years younger than her age—which Charlotte claimed was the result of monthly Botox injections and hours spent on the elliptical machine—and she wore outfits far more fashionable than most of the kids at Hollier. She was currently cloaked in a tight black dress that showed off her surgically enhanced cleavage. She also, it seemed to Emma, was dying to be Charlotte’s best friend instead of her mother. It was a far cry from foster mothers who only spoke to their foster kids when they were yelling at them or needed them to lie to the social workers so they’d get their monthly checks.

“Well, I’m thrilled you could make it for dinner,” Mrs. Chamberlain went on, leading the girls into the dining room. There were five seats at the table, and each place had a place card in front of it, as though they were at a wedding. Emma was next to Charlotte and across from Madeline.

When Mrs. Chamberlain ducked into the kitchen to get everyone drinking glasses, Emma leaned forward. “Where are the Twitter Twins?” She’d suddenly noticed a lack of texting taking place at the table.

Laurel glanced briefly at Madeline and Charlotte, then shrugged. “Didn’t you hear? They’re at the hair salon. I swear, getting invited to their first super-secret house party as real Lying Game members is totally going to their heads.”

Charlotte studied the place cards, then looked up at her mother, who’d just returned to the dining room. “Don’t we need another glass for Dad?”

A strained look passed over Mrs. Chamberlain’s face. “He’s not coming,” she said quickly. “He got stuck at work.”

“Again?” An edge sharpened Charlotte’s voice.

“Will you get the bottle of Sancerre for me please, Charlotte?” Mrs. Chamberlain suggested tensely. A long pause ensued. Emma recalled how she’d seen Mr. Chamberlain at Sabino Canyon the day she arrived in Tucson, when he was supposed to be out of town. Perhaps he was hiding something—and perhaps Charlotte and her mother had their suspicions about what it was.

Charlotte yanked a pinkish-colored bottle from a wine fridge that was built into a cabinet next to the sink, clapped a bottle opener over the cork, and poured a glass for her mother. She then lifted her own glass of Perrier by the stem and held it high in the air. Mrs. Chamberlain, Madeline, Emma, and Laurel followed suit.

“To a fabulous dinner party,” Mrs. Chamberlain said.

The five of them clinked glasses and took sips. Cornelia, the personal chef, who had stiff gray hair and a round, pie-like face, carried in a roast, red potatoes, a big chopped salad, and warm garlic bread.

“So tell me about this party you girls planned,” Mrs. Chamberlain said after taking a delicate bite of meat. “Where is it again?”

“Uh, a country club across town,” Charlotte lied smoothly. It wasn’t as if they were going to tell Mrs. Chamberlain they were going to a foreclosed house.

“It’s going to be sick,” Madeline said. “Everyone from Hollier is going to be there.”

“We invited people from a couple of the prep schools, too,” Charlotte added.

“What she means is, we invited guys from the prep schools.” Laurel adjusted a feather barrette in her hair.

Charlotte gave her a playful punch. “You better be grateful we’re letting you come.”

Emma looked back and forth at them, amazed they were talking about this in front of Mrs. Chamberlain—weren’t parents supposed to frown at the idea of parties? But Charlotte’s mom was smiling and nodding like she thought it was all great.

I remembered being so jealous of Charlotte’s mom, wishing that my mom was more like her. But watching from afar, seeing how sweet my mom was with Emma, I wondered. Did Char’s mom give her advice in the middle of the night, or just beauty tips and pointers on plastic surgery? It made me realize once more how much I’d taken my mom for granted.

Sutton’s iPhone vibrated in Emma’s lap. She pulled it out of her clutch and gazed at the screen under the table. ANY CHANCE YOU CAN PICK ME UP? asked a text from Ethan. MY CAR WON’T START.

Emma’s nerves buzzed. This was really happening. They were really going to a party … together. SURE THING, she wrote back. BE THERE IN AN HOUR. She hit send.

“Who are you writing to, Sutton?” Laurel asked, peering at Emma across the table.

Emma clenched her fists in her lap. “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said breezily. The girls would know soon enough when she and Ethan arrived at the party; she didn’t need it to dominate the dinner discussion now.

As the meal progressed, Mrs. Chamberlain regaled them with some of her favorite high school memories, many of which involved becoming Homecoming Queen two years in a row. After the girls carried their plates to the sink and got dishes out for dessert, Emma excused herself to the powder room in the hall. Just as her hand grazed the doorknob, she noticed a glowing greenish light down the hall, right near the foyer. The Chamberlains’ alarm system.

She looked around. The girls were in the dining room, chattering on about Laurel’s most recent date with Caleb. Mrs. Chamberlain was out on the back porch, smoking a cigarette. No one was watching.

She tiptoed down the hall and peered at the security system. It was a simple setup with an LCD touchscreen, like an iPad, with numbered buttons for entering a code. Whoever had disabled the alarm would have had to use their fingers. If Thayer hadn’t wiped down the screen after letting himself in, maybe his prints were still on it.

“Sutton?” Madeline’s voice called. Emma looked up to see her standing in the hall, peering at her. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking out this photo,” Emma lied, pointing to a framed black-and-white photograph of a young Paul McCartney that hung next to the alarm.

She scuttled back to the dining table just as Mrs. Chamberlain brought out chocolate mousses in individual goblets. “Cornelia’s specialty!” she exclaimed. “It’s going to be soooo good!”

The girls made appreciative coos and dug in. When Mrs. Chamberlain returned to the kitchen, Laurel leaned across the table, a hint of chocolate on her lips. “You know what else is going to be good? Our prank on Ethan Landry.” She glanced at Emma, raising her eyebrows. “I hope you asked him to come help us set up tonight.”

“Seriously.” Charlotte clapped her hands together. “The prank’s going to be amazing!”

Madeline cackled with delight. Only Emma stared at her plate, a queasy feeling trickling through her stomach.

Laurel pouted at her from across the table. “What’s wrong, Sutton? Don’t you think it’s a perfect prank?”

Emma swallowed a sip of Perrier, its bubbling tartness tickling her nose. The way she saw it, she had two options: buckle to Laurel’s whims and go along with this, or stand up for herself and make Old Emma proud. She took a deep breath.

“Actually, I think it’s a horrible idea,” she said. “We already got Ethan once, remember? I’ve decided. I’m not being part of the prank. You girls will have to go it alone.”

Madeline’s face fell. Charlotte wrinkled her nose. Laurel’s cheeks reddened. “You what?” she snapped.

Emma knew she was doing a little bit of damage to Sutton’s reputation, but she didn’t care. She stood, placing her spoon to the side of her untouched mousse. “Charlotte, please tell your mom thanks for the delicious dinner. There’s someplace I need to be right now. I’ll see you ladies at the party.” She glanced at Laurel. “I assume you can get a ride with one of them?”

Laurel stared back at Emma, her mouth hanging open. She didn’t say a word as Emma sailed from the room and out the front door, her head held high. Sutton’s friends watched her the whole way. No one said a word.

And that, I thought, was how you make a dramatic exit.