Chapter 19

Erin listened to the message from Mackenzie Laughlin with growing dismay. She'd talked to Leigh about what Mia had said? About the pills ?

Erin stood at the hub inside Pickwick Lighting, barely noticing the overhead displays of light fixtures that winked and sparkled across the broad showroom, the bulbs like a thousand tiny suns trapped inside astral cages. She loved it here. Still so grateful for Leigh's help in getting her the job.

But she was currently blind to everything around her. And Mac's call wasn't the only surprise today! Mia herself had texted Erin, saying she was coming back to River Glen, that she was leaving Ben. That message had thrown Erin back to that time before Mia disappeared completely from their lives, back when she was still making trips to River Glen, back before she'd gone so completely weird.

Back when she told them about seeing the pills.

Erin could still remember what she was wearing that day that she and Leigh had met Mia for lunch. She'd worn that new sky blue blouse she'd paid a fortune for, a fortune she didn't have, but she'd charged it and figured somehow she would pay for it later. Her mind had been on her appearance and it wasn't until Leigh had gasped, " What? " that she'd really picked up that Mia was hinting that Ethan and Ingrid had died because of those pills . . .

Erin had gone immediately cold inside, like her insides were hit with a freeze ray. She'd looked at Leigh, whose face seemed to reflect exactly what Erin was feeling.

"Are you sure?" Erin had managed to choke out.

Mia had closed her eyes and swayed a bit. Leigh, seated beside her in the booth, had put out a hand to steady her. It was . . . weird and scary. Mia had always been so focused and driven and full of plans. She'd made it into Stanford—no easy feat!—and she'd gone through rush and maybe joined a sorority, like she'd planned; Erin wasn't sure about that. But then she started unraveling under the stress and the Mia from high school was gone. At least that's what Erin had thought, although Leigh, as Mia's best friend, had seemed to want to ignore the changes and pretend everything was still okay. She had kept in contact with Mia long after that meeting, though that was the last time Erin saw her.

Now Erin swallowed and tried to bring herself back to the moment. Seth Halliday, one of the Pickwick salespeople, was listening politely to a woman in a red coat explain what she wanted for an entryway light. "Nothing with glass that I have to dust. Just a cage. Wrought iron. You know what I mean?" Seth nodded his understanding. "Good choice," he said, making her smile with pride as he added that he would be right back with a book to show her what was available.

Seth was a master. He was also Erin's immediate boss at Pickwick Lighting and he was good-looking and nice. Really nice. It was a downright shame he was married, but all the good ones were. It was a sad fact of life.

The front door opened and a woman walked up to the hub. "Do you sell light bulbs here? Specialty ones?"

"We sure do," Erin told her.

The customer pulled out a used bulb from her purse and handed it to her. Erin looked up the number and ordered a half dozen at the woman's request, taking her credit card. Once she was gone, Erin looked back at Seth, who was still smiling at the woman in the red coat. She was thanking him profusely and jutted out her hand, which Seth warmly clasped. Erin knew he treated every woman the same, including herself. Makes us all feel special , she thought.

Erin sighed as Seth showed the customer out. It was close to six o'clock and Erin went to the door, waiting for the last few minutes before she locked up. She left Pickwick ten minutes later and drove back to her apartment and Chili, sweeping the cat into her arms, burying her face in its fur. She was never going to get a Seth Halliday.

Her mind moved on to the topic she never wanted to think about: Pills . . . a smattering of them . . . on a counter in the pool house . . .

Mia wasn't the only one who knew about them.

Chili meowed in protest and scrambled wildly from Erin's tight grasp. Her back claws scraped deep into Erin's arm.

"Ouch!" Blood filled the scratches in the flayed skin on the back of her wrist as Chili ran off and hid under the couch.

Erin went to the bathroom, found some antibiotic cream and Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet, and doctored the scratch. "I'm sorry, Chili," she said, following the cat into her bedroom.

She walked straight to her nightstand and opened the drawer. She'd kept a Hello Kitty diary in grade school and had long ago listed a time line for the important future events in her life: when she would be married, when she would have her first child and her second and maybe a third, how she and her husband would go on a round-the-world trip for their tenth anniversary, how years later, as empty nesters, they would move to a small cottage overlooking the sea, or maybe a mountain retreat . . . And they would have cats, maybe a litter of kittens or two, and he would tell her how much he loved her every day, and how beautiful she was, and how his life wouldn't have been the same without her.

Now her eye traveled over that rounded cursive with its pink hearts dotting the I s. Once again she felt the melancholy that had been her companion for so long. Her thoughts turned to Leigh and Parker and she felt a tightness in her chest. She certainly didn't want that kind of a marriage. Then she thought about Natalie, who'd said she'd basically split from her husband when she'd called and told Erin about tonight's meeting. Erin hadn't asked, but Natalie had told her that her husband, Phillip, had left for Arizona to "find his fucking self," which apparently was a joke because "he can't even find his own asshole." Erin had winced a little at Natalie's crudeness. You just didn't need to be that way, in her opinion. But then Nat had gone on about Phillip's "beige soul" and Erin hadn't known what that meant, but she didn't really want to ask because it was just hard to talk to Natalie.

Still, she was going to Kristl's to meet her and her other "sisters" tonight. Apparently Natalie was thinking of buying a condo in the Pearl District, and she wanted it to be the first project that she was independently videotaping for a new show she wanted to launch on HGTV. Well, good for her.

Leigh had called to make sure Erin would be there, too. She'd asked her if she'd heard from Mia, which of course she had, but she just pretended she hadn't because she didn't want to really talk about it, to Leigh or anyone else. Leigh had said that she had talked to Mia, that Mackenzie had gotten her number, and that she hoped Mia would show up tonight, which had increased Erin's unease. Leigh had sounded pretty uptight herself and when Erin said as much, Leigh had tersely admitted that she and Parker had had another fight.

Parker Sommers . . . Erin wanted to like him better than she did.

Was it wrong to think he'd only married Leigh for her money? Was that being a complete bitch? Well, she wasn't going to tell Leigh what she really thought, so it probably didn't matter. Parker kind of reminded her of Gavin Knowles; they shared the same sort of egotistical nastiness. She'd dated Gavin briefly in high school, but neither of them had been into it. Gavin wanted Mia or Roxie or whoever Ethan wanted and Erin had wanted . . . well . . . Ethan.

She briefly closed her eyes, hating herself a little, shivering at the memory. She'd had that one night with Ethan before dating Gavin when she'd simply grabbed him and pulled him atop her after everyone had gone home at one of Gavin's parties. It was the only time Erin had smoked dope and she'd been reckless and wanton and glad she had an excuse to explain away her behavior later . . . if anyone had known.

Gavin had given Ethan the joint, and it was late in the evening and Ethan was sitting on a hilly slope of grass, away from the pool area, twiddling the rolled joint between his fingers. At that point Erin had been sober and had purposely stayed behind after her friends left by telling them her mom was picking her up. But really she'd seen Ethan wander off and wanted to be with him. Just as a friend , she told herself though she knew deep down that was a lie.

She followed after him and sat down on the lawn beside him, ignoring the dampness of the grass, ready to be that all-important sympathetic ear to listen to his woes over his relationship with Mia. And that's what she got, pretty much, as Ethan did talk a lot about Mia and how things had grown difficult between them because Mia was a perfectionist and he could never live up to her exacting standards, or maybe her parents were forcing her to be a perfectionist, which was the same thing, really, and it didn't matter anyway because she'd accused him of being unfocused, which apparently was a mortal sin in Mia's world. Erin had nodded and said she loved Mia, but she knew how hard it was to live up to her standards. She let her soulful eyes—her best feature—stare at him understandingly.

And when Ethan sighed and said, "Fuck it," and lit the joint, Erin imbibed with him, though she damn near coughed up a lung at the harsh burn down her throat. Woowee . . . it was awful.... but she wasn't going to back down. Her senses swam and she had to lie on the moist ground and let the dark sky fly overhead, distorted in a kind of wonderful way. She felt a little sick, not bad, just weird, but she didn't let that stop her. She wanted to kiss Ethan so she simply pulled him over on top of her. He was slow to react at first—the weed, she realized later—but then he'd done more than kiss her. Pretty soon they were naked and then he was pushing into her and it was kind of hurting and she was half laughing and thinking, Wow. I'm having sex with Ethan Stanhope , and then he groaned and it was over and he rolled away and started pulling on his clothes, muttering, "God. Oh, my God . . . oh, shit... ," which had penetrated her blissful consciousness, and she'd recognized she should feel the same but didn't.

She tried to talk to him the next Monday at school after a long weekend of thinking about him and having sex and wanting to try again when she was completely sober and generally thinking about him—Him!— and not wanting to remember that he was her friend's boyfriend. But Ethan wouldn't even look her in the eye. He practically threw her at Gavin, or Gavin toward her, or both, and Erin finally realized he wanted to wash his hands of her. Though she and Gavin were both reluctant, it was almost like they started seeing each other by order of the king. Of course it didn't work. They tried kissing but it just wasn't there. All Erin could think about was Ethan, and Gavin seemed to know it, and he was really mean about it afterward.

She'd wondered if she could pregnant. Lived in a kind of contained excitement at the thought, but then she got her period, so that was over. After she and Gavin gave up trying to like each other, she started seeing Ethan a little more clearly. He didn't want her. He'd never wanted her. And though she should have felt badly for what she did to Mia, it was just so . . . nothing . . . that it didn't even feel like it counted.

And then Ethan went into the pool house with Roxie and Erin's dreams—the ones she'd tried to pretend didn't exist—just crashed. She was almost glad when Natalie had called for them to kill him.

Now she glanced at the clock. Closing in on seven. Erin sighed. She loved her friends, loved to be with them, but it sure took a lot of energy and she wasn't certain she was up to it tonight. The last time she'd been with them, she'd come away with armpit sweat ruining her clothing.

But . . . they were all she really had. Without them, what was she? She didn't have boyfriends like Kristl, or a husband like Natalie and Leigh, though those relationships sounded toxic, and she certainly wasn't Mia, who was living with a guy who was smothering her, according to Leigh, and maybe hadn't ever really gotten over Ethan, no matter what she said . . .

And she sure as hell wasn't Roxie, who treated men like toys. Erin thought about the sick yearning she'd seen on Ethan's face as he'd trailed after the blond bitch. She could just imagine what had gone on in that pool house.

The pool house.

She shook her head and walked into the bathroom, giving herself a good, hard look.

Her cell phone rang as she was changing out of her work clothes into jeans that were a little too tight for her these days. She gazed at it with trepidation, checking the screen, not recognizing the number. "Hello?" she answered.

She thought she could hear someone breathing on the other end and she listened for a moment, the hair rising on her arms. A wrong number? "Hello," she said again and when there was no answer she hung up.

Chili had jumped up on the bed and was walking around, purring, having forgiven her. It took all her willpower not to snatch the cat close again because she couldn't shake the feeling that whoever was on the other end of the line was sending her a force field of evil intent.

* * *

Mac stared at Taft in disbelief while the pugs snuffled around her feet, uncertain about the tension emanating from her. "She told you she broke into your place and just acted like it was nothing, and you just . . . what? Laughed it off?"

"I told her she was playing a dangerous game."

They were standing in the middle of his living room. Mac had gotten her tangled emotions under control and still had been so relieved to see that he was all right, she'd felt tears prick the back of her eyes.

And then she'd wanted to throttle him. "That was it? That's all you did?"

"Should I have called the police?"

He was regarding her soberly, but she heard her own voice warning him not to tell Haynes about being run off the road. Neither of them wanted the authorities involved.

"She broke in," Mac said again.

"And left me a message. Do you have that?"

"It's on your bed."

He lifted his brows at her and she stepped out of the way so he could go into his bedroom. He returned a few moments later with the white card in hand. She could see Anna's distinctive printing. "It might be hard to get her arrested for this."

He was right. Of course he was right. Anna told him what she'd done. Whatever her intention, it would look to the police like a prank by a woman who wanted to be with him. Stalking . . . maybe . . . but . . .

"She's doing it on purpose. Making it hard for you to strike back," said Mac.

"Yep."

"What did Prudence say? Was she in on this?"

"She tried to deny it, but they're in on it together. Whatever they hope to accomplish isn't going to work."

Mac realized that Anna's ploy had backfired. Taft was becoming more and more set in his decision to give Mangella's money away. Even though she'd told him to spend some of it, Mac had changed her mind and now agreed with him. Get rid of the blood money, because that's what it felt like it was.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Mac admitted.

He shot her a smile and then got a pensive look on his face.

"What?" she asked, leaning down to pet the dogs and make sure they understood that all was well.

"I didn't tell you about my meeting with Veronica Quick at the law firm."

"This doesn't sound good."

"It's not about the inheritance," he assured her. "Not directly, at least. You know how I told you Helene is a symbol of my subconscious."

Mackenzie nodded. "You see her sometimes."

"In my mind," he reminded firmly.

"Well . . . yeah . . ." Where was this going?

"I was with Veronica and she warned me about Prudence, twice. And then I saw Helene outside the window, and she told me to be careful, too, which is normal. The way I remind myself to pay attention because whatever is going on is important." He drew a breath. "And then, I swear . . . Veronica looked out the window and saw my sister, too. I know what that sounds like, believe me. But her face went white . . . I called her on it, but she wouldn't answer me."

Mac stared at him. The Jesse James Taft she knew was totally grounded in reality. Yes, he saw Helene's "ghost" from time to time, but he was the first to admit it was a trick of his own subconscious, that he used his sister's image and guidance as internal checks and balances. She, too, drew a breath and asked, "So, what are you saying?"

"I don't know," he freely admitted. "This ‘seeing' quirk of Veronica's is known within business circles. She's good at her job, maybe excellent, but her father's a partner in the law firm. Without him, I don't think she'd be there. They downplay that she's . . ."

"A psychic?"

He half laughed and shook his head. "Forget it. She spooked me. It was a strange moment. Nevertheless, I've taken her advice to be careful around Prudence Mangella to heart . . . and Anna DeMarcos."

Blackie stood on his hind legs and scratched at Taft's. Taft leaned down. "So, how did you do with these guys?"

"Fine." She looked around. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty? No seven."

"I gotta go." She quickly tried to brush the dog hair off her jeans. "Tommy's keys are on the counter. I didn't feed them."

"I'll give 'em something." She slipped her arms through her black jacket and as she drew the strap of her crossbody purse over her shoulder, he suddenly grabbed her elbow, startling her. "Be careful," he said firmly.

She nodded and stepped out into the cool, cloudy November night. This time she couldn't help looking around his parking lot for Helene even though she'd personally never seen her and knew, as well as Taft, that she didn't really exist.

* * *

Kristl opened the door to Natalie, who blew in with a glance over her shoulder, as if expecting someone behind her. Kristl looked, but there was no one there. Natalie was the first one to arrive, so it appeared that everyone, Natalie included, was going to be late.

She carried in a large grocery bag and dropped it on the counter, pulling out two bottles of red and two bottles of white wine. "Here," she said, pushing the white wine toward Kristl. "Put it in the refrigerator."

Kristl should have felt annoyance at the high-handed way Nat was taking over again, but she was emotionally drained over the night before's antics at Lacey's. Her stomach was tight as she wondered whether Mackenzie was going to make it tonight, or if she'd just given her lip service. She didn't know what she wanted from Mackenzie. Support that she was unlikely to get.

She's an investigator. You shouldn't have invited her.

But she still wanted her to come.

"I thought I'd be the last one," Nat complained. "What the hell's going on? Gavin's dead, killed in a car accident . What's happening?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I want to get to the bottom of it, so I've made some . . . I've set some things in motion."

"What?" Kristl asked, surfacing a bit to regard her with trepidation.

"You'll see. Where the hell is Leigh, and Erin, and Mia? I told her to come. She said she'd talked to you, too. She should be in River Glen by now."

"How do you know?"

"She was flying. She had to get away from that Ben guy, so she flew out. That's what she said she was doing."

"She didn't say that much to me."

"Maybe you didn't ask her the right questions." Natalie briskly opened a bottle of Merlot. "I brought some crackers and Brie. Give me one of your cheese spreaders."

"Cheese spreaders?"

"The little knives for appetizers?" Natalie peered at her closely. "What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I think you just run over me all the time."

Natalie tucked in her chin and frowned at her. "Are you grieving about Gavin?"

Kristl looked at her as if she'd never seen her before. "Gavin," she repeated disdainfully. "If he hadn't interfered . . ."

"Never mind."

Natalie poured them each of them a glass and slid one in Kristl's direction. "You didn't say anything about you and Tim at the funeral. We all thought you were still involved with those other guys."

Kristl wondered what it would be like to smash the glass on the end of the counter and charge Natalie with the jagged remains. They all thought she couldn't keep a man. They all dismissed her.

"I have a surprise later, if everyone would just fucking get here." Natalie lifted her glass and then glanced pointedly down at the wedge of Brie.

Kristl had wrapped her fingers around the stem of her own glass but she carefully unwound them and went to look for a plate for the Brie and to find her mother's "cheese spreaders." She set the plate down with a sharp clunk, then plucked the knife with its rounded blade from the drawer.

Natalie had problems of her own, so Kristl tried to shake off her mad funk. Nat's husband had left her and though she acted like it was good riddance to bad rubbish, she was hurting. Kristl understood that.

The doorbell rang and Nat swept past her to answer. Kristl was irked anew but then she heard, "Krissy? Krissy . . . ?" and went to find her mom, heaving a sigh.

Natalie opened the front door and looked past Leigh. "Are you the only one?"

"You waiting for someone better?" asked Leigh, piqued.

"Don't get pissy. It's just everybody's late. Me, too," she admitted. "And I want to make sure everything's in place."

"For what?" asked Leigh, shrugging out of her long black coat. She wore a white silk blouse and black slacks beneath it, and Natalie caught the designer initials on her handbag and knew it had cost Leigh over a thousand dollars. She felt a twinge of envy for Leigh's money. It was solid. Nothing she had to work for. Sure, she had that business but it was more entertainment for her husband, whereas Natalie was on her own, no family money to fall back on, and the ground beneath her feet had grown slippery, especially now that Phillip had abandoned her. She needed to keep moving forward.

"For my surprise." Natalie lifted her glass and smiled cheekily.

Leigh didn't respond. Instead, she said, "Well . . . it's almost seven thirty and I haven't gotten a callback yet."

"Oh, yeah? What play?"

" Chicago. "

"I never liked that one that well. You're still doing that acting thing, huh?" Leigh bristled, so Natalie raised her hands. "Sorry, sorry. We've all gotta follow our dreams."

"I know I had a good audition for Roxie."

Natalie choked a little on her wine and spilled some on her black cashmere sweater. "Shit."

"You don't think I can win a major role?"

"I'm sure you can. Jesus, Leigh, don't be so touchy. I just forgot one of the leads is Roxie something."

"Roxie Hart," Leigh clarified.

The doorbell rang and Natalie glanced down the hall to where Kristl was apparently still dealing with her mother. Good. She hustled to answer the door. But it was Erin with those big mouse eyes that just bugged Natalie. And right behind her, just getting out of a Ford compact, was Mackenzie Laughlin. Natalie's pulse jumped. What?

Natalie threw a fulminating look at Leigh. " Mackenzie Laughlin? " she hissed.

"Don't look at me," Leigh hissed back, hooking a thumb in the direction Kristl had taken.

Erin stepped around Natalie and said, "I almost didn't come. I got a call—"

"Goddammit," Natalie whispered, cutting her off, practically pushing her into the room. She then pinned on a smile and turned to face Mackenzie, who was striding toward the bottom concrete step of the porch.

"I didn't know Mac was coming," Erin said behind her, sounding worried.

Natalie held the door open with one hand and greeted Mackenzie, "This is a definite surprise. Kristl didn't tell us you were invited."

"It kind of just happened," said Mac with a cool smile that made Natalie's blood freeze in her veins.

Mac was in jeans and a black turtleneck topped with a black jacket. She wore black Sketchers and looked surprisingly fit in a way that made Natalie a bit envious. There was very little sign of the ankle injury she'd sustained at the funeral, but there were bruises down the side of her face and a knot on her forehead. "What happened to you?" asked Nat.

"Someone tried to run me off the road."

"Shit. Really?" Natalie peered at her. Couldn't tell if she was kidding.

"Really," Mac assured her as Natalie stepped back and allowed her entry into the house.

"Like Gavin? God, it's an epidemic," she murmured.

Leigh and Erin greeted Mackenzie like the long-lost friend she was, but inside Natalie's mind the words PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR seemed to flash over and over again in neon. She took a last glance toward the street before she closed the door.

"Who are you waiting for?" Leigh wanted to know.

"Mia," she said in a tone that suggested, Duh. "You said she might come," she reminded her.

"I said I didn't know if she would make it in time," Leigh snapped.

Natalie held up a hand. "Okay. Whatever. Who wants a glass of wine?" She spread her hands to indicate the stemmed glasses, open bottle of red, and cheese board.

* * *

Mac sipped her wine, her head full of Taft, Anna DeMarcos, and Prudence, and the blue Honda Accord that had run her off the road . . . and now that psychic person, Veronica Quick. She needed her full attention on what was happening in front of her and had to push everything aside. This was an opportunity to learn about all of The Sorority's relationship to Ethan.

Get in the game , she warned herself.

Natalie was pacing back and forth from the door to the kitchen and her tension had infected Leigh and Erin, both of whose eyes kept turning toward the door as well. Mac hoped they were right. She would like to see Mia herself, though she fought an urge to check the time on her phone.

Kristl appeared from down the hallway, looking a little wild-eyed. She said, "Hi," to Mac and seemed to want to come over and talk to her, but then thought better of it, apparently, as she turned away and picked up a glass of wine that she'd had tucked at the back of the kitchen counter. She took a deep swallow, then began searching through one of the cabinets, pulling out a small saucepan and mumbling something about oatmeal for her mother.

Natalie rubbed her hands together as if she were cold. She was in all black, but it wasn't nearly as Goth-like as high school. Tight black jeans and boots and her hair pulled back and tied at her nape.

Erin broke away from talking to Leigh and said to Mac, "You must have really interesting cases."

"Sometimes."

"What are you working on now?"

"Don't ask her that," Natalie cut her off.

"Is it a secret?" asked Erin, quelling a bit in the face of Natalie's brusque order.

"No, it's—" Mac started.

"I told you all I hired her to find Mia," Leigh interrupted. "And she found her. Job well done."

Mac smiled and inclined her head in acknowledgment. She wondered if the others heard how snippy Leigh sounded.

"Let's call Mia," urged Natalie. "Find out where she is. Leigh, you call her."

Leigh gave Natalie a look, but she obediently clicked through to her saved numbers, punched a button, then held the phone to her ear. They all went quiet and after a long moment, Leigh said, "It's going to voice mail. You want to leave a message?"

"No." Natalie was firm.

Leigh clicked off. "She'll call me when she's here," she said with confidence.

"So, what are we doing besides waiting for Mia?" asked Kristl, pouring boiling water over quick-cooking oats in a bowl.

"We're getting together," Natalie said tightly.

Kristl snorted.

"What's that mean?" Natalie demanded.

"Nothing." She slid her gaze over the group and then said, "So . . . Mac's here. Let's tell her about it."

"About what?" Erin asked before Mac could.

"About Ethan. And our pledge to kill him in a car accident." Kristl spread her hands and smiled. "How we all freaked out after that very thing happened."

Natalie, Leigh and Erin froze. Mac looked from one to the other of them. Kristl turned to Mac and added, "A few weeks before graduation we all pledged to kill Ethan because he slept with Roxie in the pool house. Even Roxie pledged."

"It was a FUCKING JOKE!" Natalie screamed. "How many times do I have to say it?" She turned to Mac, too. "We said we were going to kill him. We all . . . hated him. I said we should do it by a car accident and it was . . . I was joking and everyone was joking. We just were mad at him. We didn't plan it. We couldn't. "

"I wasn't really joking," Erin said, as if the words were torn from her throat. Everyone whipped their heads her way. She shrank a bit under that hard appraisal. "Okay, I was sort of joking, but I really wanted him dead. Not Ingrid! " she added immediately. "But Ethan was a prick . I thought he wasn't. I thought he was better." Her eyes filled with sudden tears.

Leigh said, "Oh, my God. You wanted to be with him."

Nat chuckled. "Did you get with him? Have sex with him?" she teased.

Erin's mouth opened but no words came out.

"Holy mother of God," Natalie exhaled.

"You did. You did!" Leigh gasped.

Kristl didn't try to hide her surprise. "You had sex with Ethan Stanhope? When? How?"

"It wasn't like that. I didn't mean . . . Oh, please don't tell Mia!"

"At Gavin's," said Natalie, blinking, processing. "The night we left you there. I thought it was weird you were waiting for your mom to pick you up. You stayed behind to be with him. You'd been following him around all night with those big eyes. Oh, my God, I can't believe it."

"It wasn't like that!" Erin fought back tears.

"Yes, it was," Natalie insisted.

"I loved him! I thought I loved him, okay? I made a mistake, but I wasn't the only one. You all were with him, too!" Erin glared at her friends as if they'd all betrayed her.

"Why would you say that?" Natalie demanded.

"But you slept with him," Leigh stressed.

"Oh, Christ. Holy mother . . ." muttered Kristl, looking from one friend to the next.

Mac just stayed silent, watching how the reveal played out.

"Ethan and I did not have sex," Leigh said. "We just . . . fooled around a bit, but it was nothing."

"Seriously?" Natalie started laughing, so hard she bent over. "Oh, my God."

"You were with him, too," accused Erin. "He told me."

"He told you? What? That we kissed in his backyard once?" She glared at her.

"He told Gavin and I overheard."

"Jesus," muttered Kristl.

Natalie immediately switched her ire to her. "Okay, let's hear what you did."

"Me? I didn't do anything."

"You've slept with everybody," Leigh jumped in as if she'd just been waiting for the opportunity.

"I did not sleep with Ethan." Kristl looked thunderous, then retorted, "What does ‘fooled around a bit' mean?"

Leigh just shook her head.

"So, Gavin was right?" Natalie looked faintly horrified. "We all cheated with Ethan and betrayed our friend." She turned to Mac. "What do you think of our dirty little secret?"

"Which one? The one where you all pledged to kill Ethan?"

Natalie's mouth twisted into a sour smile. "Look what you made us confess to. Betcha didn't count on that." She chuckled, but her amusement had a hysterical edge.

"Nice to know I'm not the only one with a sex problem," Kristl muttered as she spooned cinnamon and sugar over the top of the oatmeal, then headed with a tray toward the hallway.

"You have a sex problem?" Erin asked in a small voice. She almost sounded hopeful.

"I have a relationship problem," she shot back as she stalked down the hall.

Another silence fell and then Natalie looked at Erin. "Did you kill him?"

Erin reared back as if she'd been slapped. "He was driving and didn't make the turn. He killed himself." Under Natalie's dark stare, she blurted, "I didn't give him the pills."

"What pills?" Leigh asked on a sharp intake of breath.

"The pills that Mia told us about," Erin reminded her.

"What pills?" Natalie repeated, but something in her eyes told Mac that she knew where this was going already, too.

"The fentanyl," said Mac, as if it were understood by all already. "You saw the pills?" she asked Erin.

Erin's wide eyes grew even wider. "Mia didn't say it was fentanyl!"

"What did Mia say?" Mac asked as Natalie and Leigh looked stunned.

"She said Ethan had pills. That he was a stupid fool. That she was pretty sure he'd taken some before he left Gavin's graduation night, but that can't be true because it took too long to have any effect. The pills were in the pool house, so maybe he just took them with him, but he didn't take them at Gavin's."

"The pills were in the pool house?" asked Mac.

"I saw them there. We all went in and out of the pool house, before and after Roxie got with him there."

"Maybe Roxie gave them to him," suggested Leigh.

"He didn't swallow them there ," Erin repeated.

"He took them home and saved them for graduation," said Natalie.

The doorbell rang and Natalie jumped. Everyone turned and Leigh said, "Mia!"

But it wasn't Mia.

It was Roxie Vernon.