Privilege 1 - Privilege (8 page)

"Ariana Osgood."

Ariana stopped in her tracks. Her heart fluttered so rapidly it made her cough. Who the hell did she know in Dallas? How had they recognized her? What was she going to do? Her fingers curled into fists as her vision prickled over. She was not going back. Never going back. Instantly, her mind started to concoct scenarios. There was an exit to her left--a small one, kind of dark and unused. A maintenance cart was parked off to the side. If she could lure whoever it was down

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there, she might have a shot at getting rid of them. There had to be something on that cart she could use. A plastic bag for suffocation, a stepladder as a club.... There were always ways. Ever so slowly, Ariana turned around, ready to do whatever it took to maintain her freedom.

But there was no one there. The voice was not coming from a person. It was coming from the TV behind the bar.

Her own smiling face stared back at her from the screen, a photo taken back at Easton during a schoolwide charity event. Ariana started to tremble as her empty stomach clenched. She hadn't eaten anything other than pretzels and water for the past two days--all she could afford on her meager stash--and suddenly she felt weak. Stepping forward, she leaned her hand on the back of one of the tall bar stools for support.

"... body of Atlanta socialite Ariana Osgood has yet to be found, but we have now learned that the convicted murderer attempted suicide just days before her disappearance. When a new suicide note was found by her cellmate on the night of July fourth, a full-scale search of the facility was conducted. That was when prison officials found a hole beneath the fence surrounding the facility, which seems to have been dug out by a dog owned by one of the employees."

The camera focused in on the ditch. It looked so small in the light of day. Ariana's heart constricted as the memories of that night assaulted her, and she started to sweat.

I'm okay.... I'm okay.... It's over. I'm not going back. Never going back...

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Her grip on the bar stool tightened and she forced herself to breathe.

In... one... two... three...

Out... one... two... three... She glanced around, expecting to see a crowd forming around the television. Dozens of people rapt with interest. But the shoppers in the mall just kept right on about their business, window shopping, chatting on their cells, maneuvering their strollers onto the escalator. No one here cared. No one had noticed her.

"That same employee is now under investigation for his role in Miss Osgood's apparent suicide," the reporter continued.

The news feed flipped to footage of Dr. Meloni with his head bowed, ducking away from reporters as he headed for his Jag in the Brenda T.'s parking lot.

Never going back... Never going back...

"According to sources within the facility, Dr. Meloni was Miss Osgood's assigned psychiatrist, but after her last suicide attempt, he allegedly urged her to 'try harder next time.'"

Ariana's mouth twitched into a strained smile, despite the unflattering mug shot from nearly two years ago that now filled the screen. Even in her state of high alert she was able to appreciate this bit of news. Kaitlynn had done well. And Dr. Meloni was clearly being hounded by the press--a satisfying little development.

Suddenly Ariana felt a nudge at her shoulder. The lump of fear in her throat hardened, choking off her air supply. Someone had recognized her. Of course they had. She was standing right there, not ten feet

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from the television, staring at her own face. Her fight-or-flight reflex told her to drop everything and run. But then a little voice in her mind told her not to overreact. She had come too far to just run now. Controlling her rapid heartbeat, she turned around. A very cute, very scruffy twentysomething guy sat on the stool next to hers, nursing a beer.

"Crazy story, huh?" he asked, looking right into her eyes.

Her eyes. Her eyes. Ariana had to get her hands on some colored contacts. What if this guy recognized that the light blue eyes staring at him now were the same ones staring out from the TV screen?

"It really makes you think," he added.

Ariana took a breath. He didn't recognize her. Her mug shot was right in front of him, and yet this guy had no clue.

This was going to work. It was already working.

Suddenly Ariana realized how close she had come to the edge. When she had first heard her name, she had been ready to do anything to silence the person who had recognized her. Ready to kill. And the thought scared her. She had to squelch that side of herself. Had to make a new start now that she had a second chance. Taking lives was not an option. She knew that it was wrong.

Plus, where there was a dead body, there was usually a murder investigation. And she couldn't have that.

I will not lose control, Ariana promised herself right then and there. I will not hurt anyone.

"I know," Ariana said smoothly, making sure to keep her Southern accent buried. She glanced up at the picture of herself just before it was pulled from the screen. "Totally, totally insane."

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A moment later he got up to go to the bathroom, leaving his credit card on the bar to pay for his drink. Southern men. So trusting. With the bartender's back turned, Ariana slipped the card into her pocket and casually strolled away. There had to be a quickie eyeglass place in this mall somewhere. Hearing her name and seeing her own face broadcast on national television had been enough to put a bit of a scare in Ariana. It was time for another change. She was not going to risk someone looking into her distinctive blue eyes and seeing Ariana Osgood.

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NEW FRIENDS

Wearing her new skirt and a crisp white T-shirt, her auburn hair pinned back from her face to highlight her new green eyes, Ariana walked up to the gates of the Walker Country Club and sat down on the clipped grass next to the drive. Seeing a golf cart zooming toward the gates from the direction of one of the surrounding PGA-level courses, she cupped her ankle with both hands. Furrowed brow, concerned frown, shoe tossed carelessly on the grass: Clearly she was a girl in need of assistance.

The golf cart slid to a stop right in front of her, making the zipping noise Ariana recognized so well, and two older, distinguished-looking gentlemen in khaki pants and tasteful pastel shirts stepped out.

"Are you all right, miss?" the taller one asked. His lined face was red from the sun, save where his sunglasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He wore a white mesh golf hat, but it clearly had done nothing to shield him from the elements.

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"I think I may have sprained it," Ariana replied, grimacing through her Southern drawl.

The second man, whose skin was smooth and had just a touch of a healthy tan, glanced up at the gates, still locked. "Were you coming or going?"

A warm breeze rustled the trees around the gates and Ariana's heart skipped an excited beat. She was going to get inside. This was going to work. Amazing how one day all she could think about was breaking out of a place, and a few days later all she could think about was breaking into another.

"Coming," Ariana said. "I was supposed to meet my friend by the pool half an hour ago." She gave them an endearing, embarrassed smile. "I'm afraid I'm a notorious latecomer."

The two men laughed and each offered her a hand. Ariana couldn't help but notice their exclusive Tag Heuer watches. Very nice. "Well, don't worry. We'll get you to her."

"Really? Oh, thank you ever so much," Ariana said, laying it on thick.

She let the taller man pull her to her feet and leaned into him as he helped her over to their cart. He grabbed her overstuffed backpack and placed it next to their golf bags on the rear rack. Ariana had come straight from the mall.

"All settled?" the tall man asked as Ariana carefully slipped her foot into the cart.

"Yes. Thank you. Really. Y'all are such gentlemen."

The two men glanced at one another, all puffed up and pleased

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with themselves. Ariana smirked as they took their seats and the cart jolted to life. Two minutes later they had entered their pass code into the keypad by the gate, and Ariana was in. She leaned back and enjoyed the view as they wound their way toward the main clubhouse. The grounds inside the exclusive club were impeccably kept, with beds of blooming flowers, towering pecan trees, and cacti dotting the cart path. Ariana thought of Kaitlynn and how much she appreciated good landscaping. She sighed, missing her friend. If Kaitlynn had known where she was headed right then, she would have been shocked off her prison bed.

A pair of security guards in white uniforms glanced at the cart as it drove by. Ariana's heart skipped a nervous beat, but she kept her expression placid, bored. One of the two young men nodded at her in acknowledgment--and appreciation--as she was whisked on by, and Ariana smiled the moment her back was to him.

She belonged. It was obvious to him that she belonged.

The cart pulled to a stop near the edge of an outdoor patio that overlooked one of the club's resort-style pools. Indigenous stones surrounded a huge, burbling waterfall and an in-pool bar. Ladies in wide-brim straw hats and designer loungewear sat around glass-topped tables, sipping ice water and picking at crisp salads. Ariana noted the large handbags, some carelessly yawning open at their owners' sides as they gossiped obliviously. These women were, of course, safe in their country club environment, surrounded by their own ilk. Ariana tucked a loose strand of auburn hair back into her bobby pin. That blind trust could be a girl's best friend. Ariana's white knights helped

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her to a thickly padded lounge chair under a wide umbrella near the edge of the water and ordered her an iced tea from the hovering waitress.

"Would you like us to look for your friend?" the doctor asked solicitously. "What's her name?" "Oh, no. You've been kind enough. To be honest, she's probably not here yet," Ariana lied smoothly. "She's usually even later than I am."

The two men chuckled and said their good-byes, warning her to stay off her ankle for the day. Two minutes later Ariana was sipping iced tea and focusing on the task at hand. She hoped she had been deposited at the right pool. According to Kaitlynn's accounts, there were two on the grounds. Feeling a sharp pain in her arm, Ariana realized she was digging her fingers into her flesh, and she told herself not to stress. If it didn't happen today, there was always tomorrow. Tomorrow she could flag down another pair of gullible old men and start all over again.

Settling back into her seat, Ariana tipped her face toward the sun, looking every bit the bored teenage socialite, and tuned in to the group of girls a few chairs away. They were gabbing on about the latest Hollywood hookups and who was taking whom to the next cotillion. Wishing she had thought to swipe a pair of sunglasses at Neiman's, she tried to watch them without being obvious. None of them exactly matched Briana Leigh's description, but then Kaitlynn had been on the inside for more than two years. In that time appearances could change. Drastically.

"Your extra towels, Miss Covington."

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Ariana's heart skipped a beat. She turned to the left to locate the voice and saw a valet handing three thick pool towels to a girl who had just emerged from the water. She was tall and curvy, her breasts barely contained by a sparkling pink string bikini. Her teased auburn hair was up in a high ponytail, and Ariana noted with interest that the color was very similar to the boxed shade she had chosen for herself. Huge Gucci aviators practically covered the girl's face, and as she approached the valet she shoved her too-tan feet into a pair of high-heeled gold lame sandals. Ariana's nose wrinkled in distaste. If her plan was going to work, Ariana was going to need another makeover. A big, gaudy makeover.

The girl snatched the towels from the valet and flicked each of them open in turn, then threw two of them back in his face.

"These are too worn. Get me new ones," she snapped, settling into a chair two seats over from Ariana.

Ariana's eyes narrowed. This was definitely "the bitch." No doubt about it. Ariana had a habit of calling people out on their impoliteness. It was a quirk Noelle had often complained about. With this girl she had a feeling she was going to be biting her tongue. Often.

Still, her heart pounded with excitement. She was here. It was all happening. "Did that guy say, 'Miss Covington'?" Ariana asked as soon as the valet had scurried off. She sat up straight and placed her iced tea down on the table next to her. The girl looked over at Ariana, lifting her sunglasses and squinting. "Not the Briana Leigh Covington?" Ariana said. The Southern accent was gone again.

Briana Leigh's brow knit. "Do I know you?"

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"No!" Ariana forced herself to laugh. "But you did know my friend Dana Dover. From Camp Potowamac?"

Ariana saw the recognition in Briana Leigh's eyes, but her expression was still one of annoyance.

"I'm Emma Walsh," Ariana said, placing her hand on her chest. "Dana and I have been in school together since kindergarten. She must have mentioned me."

Briana Leigh's blue eyes flicked over Ariana. "Sounds vaguely familiar. She may have mentioned you."

She put her sunglasses back on and leaned back in her chair again, clearly dismissing the intruder. Ariana's skin itched with annoyance.

"Well, she talked about you all the time," she gushed. "The fabulous Briana Leigh Covington from Dallas, Texas. I cannot believe I'm finally meeting you. She always said you were the most stylish girl at camp, but she didn't even do you justice!"

Slowly, Briana Leigh turned toward Ariana. She seemed to be mulling something over as she looked at her, then finally gave in.

"Well, Dana was always jealous of me. She probably held back on purpose," she said with a hint of a smile. She lifted her hand and snapped her fingers at a passing waiter. "Come have a drink," she said to Ariana. "You can tell me exactly what Dana said about me."

"Sounds perfect," Ariana said with a smile. She'd known she could crack her. Briana Leigh was just another Noelle--in bad clothing. Ariana stood up and, ankle miraculously recovered, walked over to join her new friend.