Authors: Kate White
“Well, wait,” Phoebe said, almost without thinking. “Why don’t
I
babysit Ginger until you find a home for her. I can even ask around campus.”
The last thing she needed was a dog, but she wanted to do it for Hutch.
“Gosh, that would be a lifesaver,” Dan said. “I’m going into Lyle to sign some paperwork tomorrow. I could even drop her off for you.”
They agreed on noon, and she gave him her address.
It was after two when she let herself into the house, and just like yesterday, she felt a mid-afternoon fatigue beginning to ambush her. But she couldn’t take a nap, she told herself, she had too much to do. She made a double espresso and carried it with her into the study.
She opened her laptop and checked a few Web sites to see if any break in the case was being reported. She found nothing. Then she made notes about where she should take her class next. She had plenty of time before next Monday, but she’d loved the way things had gone today, and she wanted to be sure to build on that. Maybe she’d keep up the newsroom approach.
Finally she turned her attention to the files she had dumped on her desk after returning from Duncan’s. As she sorted out several folders, her eyes drifted toward the back of the table. They found the piece of cardboard, the one that had been around the six spoons, and she realized that in her muddled state the other day, she’d neglected to mention it to the police. She’d have to give Michelson a call.
Grimacing, she picked up the cardboard, smoothed it out, and stared at it. When she’d studied it previously, she’d assumed it had come from some type of packaging, probably from the spoons themselves. But now she wasn’t so sure. She peered more closely at it. At each of the upper corners there was a bit of faded yellow with short strokes of black over it. From the size and the thickness, she realized that it might be an oversize playing card. And then suddenly she knew. It was a tarot card. She took a deep breath. So maybe there had been a message intended for her after all.
There was probably enough color left, she decided, to figure out which tarot card it was. She opened her laptop again and Googled “tarot cards,” then began running her eyes over the images.
It didn’t take long to find the correct card. There was a man with yellow wings on the upper left-hand side and a giant bird on the right—the black strokes were the ridges of the feathers—and between and just below them was a sphinx. Her eyes dropped to the words at the bottom of the card on the screen: “Wheel of Fortune.”
She lurched back in the chair, making it scrape along the floor. No, no, no, she thought. It’s not possible. It was the same as the tiny silver wheel on the bracelets years ago.
She looked down and stared at the card again on the table. At the very bottom of the card, she now saw the faded lower edge of the
W
.
Blood had surged to her head, and she could hardly think straight. It must be a coincidence, she thought, trying to fight off panic, just the Sixes sending a message of some kind. She searched quickly for the meaning of the card: “A turning point, a change in fortune and destiny. Sometimes good, but also sometimes bad, a prophesy of luck deserting you.”
But what if it
wasn’t
a coincidence? What if the Sixes
knew
about her past? But how could they have? It had all been kept under wraps. She remembered the reference in the fake blog site to the poetry journal. It seemed that someone was funneling secrets about her past to them. Would they use the information against her somehow—even with Blair and Gwen under arrest?
She grabbed her phone and called Glenda’s cell. When Glenda didn’t answer, Phoebe tried her office line and barely gave the receptionist a chance to speak before she asked for Glenda. The woman reported that Dr. Johns was off campus at the moment.
Next, Phoebe tried Duncan. Maybe she would stay there tonight after all. She had to stay calm, she realized, or this could push her to some edge she couldn’t see.
“Hey, it’s me,” she said into Duncan’s voice mail. “I’ve got a problem. Can you call me as soon as you can?”
A buzzer rang, making her jump. It was the doorbell, she realized. She rose from the chair and hurried to the living room. Peering out the window, she spotted a child standing on the porch, dressed in a yellow rain slicker with the hood up. Why would a kid be coming to her house? she wondered as she opened the door.
“May I help you?” she asked.
The child reached up and tugged off the water-streaked hood of the slicker. To her shock, Phoebe saw that it was actually Jen Imbibio. She felt an alarm go off inside her head. Was this some kind of setup? But the girl appeared genuinely distressed.
“I have to talk to you,” Jen said.
Phoebe ushered her inside and locked the door behind her.
“Okay, shoot,” Phoebe said quickly. She was still reeling from the tarot card, and she had to force herself to focus.
“I’m one of the Sixes,” Jen said.
“I see,” Phoebe said, not knowing what else to say. It was just as she’d suspected.
“I need your help. Blair and Gwen—they didn’t kill that old man. I know that for sure.”
“A
RE YOU ALONE?”
Phoebe asked.
The girl’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Of course,” she said. “Who would be with me?”
Phoebe motioned her into the living room and gestured toward an armchair. Jen took the seat, perching on the edge of the cushion. She looked vulnerable, but also a tiny bit impudent, like someone called into the principal’s office who didn’t feel deserving of punishment.
“So why do you think that—that they’re innocent?” Phoebe said.
“First of all, I just know that they would never do anything like
that
,” Jen said. “They’re just not the type. I saw Gwen in the café on Monday, and she seemed perfectly normal.”
“People who brutally kill people are often sociopaths,” Phoebe said bluntly. “They can look and sound like the rest of us, but they do awful things without feeling a trace of remorse.”
“Sociopaths?” Jen exclaimed. “Is that what you think they are?”
“You seem surprised I’d assume that, Jen. But aren’t the Sixes by their very nature about hurting other people? You pull pranks, you steal, you humiliate vulnerable boys, you come after the people who want out—like Alexis Grey.”
“No, we’re
not
about hurting people. We’re about female strength and helping each other gain every advantage we can. Sometimes we put certain people in their place, but only because they’re trying to
block
us—you know, hogging all the professor’s time, stuff like that. And besides, you can’t totally trust Alexis Grey. Blair said Alexis blamed us for posting that sex tape when a boy had actually done it.”
“How long have you been a member?”
“I was just tapped at the beginning of the term. I’m only a junior member.”
“And Blair was definitely in charge before she was arrested?”
“Yes, I guess.” Jen gnawed on her bottom lip.
“What do you mean you guess?”
“There’s this sort of council of seniors who run things, and Blair was the leader of that. But sometimes it seemed she consulted with other people. I don’t know who.”
Phoebe recalled that Alexis had also sensed that there was someone in the wings.
“You said first of all. What’s the other reason you think they didn’t murder Hutch?” Phoebe asked.
“The police found Blair’s scarf at the murder scene, but I know for a fact it had been stolen,” Jen said. “Someone is setting her up. People are jealous of Blair, and they want to bring her down.”
So the cops
had
discovered clothing at the scene.
“Wait, start from the beginning,” Phoebe said. “How do you know they found something?”
“I heard from this other girl who talked to Blair’s mother that the cops showed Blair this pink scarf and asked if it was hers, and told her they found it at the scene. I’m sure Blair tried to tell them that the scarf had been stolen, and they probably thought she was just making that up to protect herself. But I know it’s the truth. Because I was walking with her the other day, and she told me someone had taken it.”
“But don’t you see that she realized she’d dropped the scarf when she was at Hutch’s house, and tried to cover her ass by telling you that she’d lost it.”
Jen shook her head. “But she told me Sunday at
lunch
. That was way before the old guy was murdered. She’d just come from her house. I know she leaves some stuff downstairs in the entranceway, which isn’t locked. Some girls had been hanging out at the apartment downstairs, visiting the guys who live there, and Blair thought one of them had stolen it just to be mean.”
Now
that’s
the pot calling the kettle black, Phoebe thought snidely, but she knew that the scenario was possible. In her mind she saw the coats drooping from the row of pegs in the dingy entranceway of the Ash Street house. Was Blair really being framed? she wondered. But how would the killer know that she would be a viable suspect?
“By the way, does either Blair or Gwen own a car?” Phoebe asked.
“No—why?”
“Would they have had access to a car?”
Jen bit her lip again and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess they could have borrowed one.”
“You need to tell the police about your conversation with Blair,” Phoebe said. “I can give you the name of the detective you should talk to.”
“I can’t,” Jen nearly wailed. “Don’t you
see
? They’ll know that I’m part of the Sixes then. And they’ll suspect me, too.”
So
that
was the real point of the visit, Phoebe realized. It wasn’t at all about protecting Blair and Gwen—it was about protecting Jen’s own hide.
“But the road may eventually lead to you anyway—everyone in the Sixes could come under suspicion. You should call your parents immediately and get legal advice about how to handle this.”
Jen’s eyes welled with tears. “My parents won’t understand,” she said. There was a trace of petulance in her tone. “Can’t you try to help me first?”
“But help you
how
?” Phoebe didn’t have an ounce of pity for the girl.
“I don’t know. Can’t you figure out who is setting them up?”
“I’m not a detective, Jen. That’s what the police do.”
“But you write those books. You find all sorts of things out.”
Phoebe rose from the armchair and pulled a tissue from her purse for Jen. She needed a second to think. She had to work this situation to her own advantage—try to use Jen’s inside knowledge about the Sixes.
“Okay, Jen, let me see what I can do,” Phoebe said. “But first I’m going to need additional information.”
Jen shifted on the couch, expectant.
“Let’s start with me.” Phoebe said. “You know, of course, that the Sixes have been after me, right?”
Jen looked away, unable to make eye contact. “I know they were upset with you,” she muttered. “Blair said you were trying to expose us—and then ruin us.”
“Were you one of the girls that broke into my house?”
“
What?
” Jen said. “I never heard they did that. Are you sure it was them?”
“Forget that for a minute,” Phoebe said bluntly. “What does the word
Fortuna
mean to you?”
The girl looked genuinely puzzled. “Um, nothing. I’ve never heard of it. Is it a place?”
“I want you to ask the other girls in the Sixes about that name, okay? You won’t want them to catch on that you talked to me, so tell them you overheard me on the phone after class, and that I was talking about the Sixes and Fortuna. See if it means something to any of them.”
“Okay.”
“Now tell me about the circles.”
Jen’s eyes widened in surprise. “But how—why do you need to know about them?”
“Just trust me. If I’m going to help you, you’re going to have to provide me with information. I know about the first four. What are the fifth and sixth circles?”
“I really can’t talk about them. We’re never supposed to reveal anything about the circles.”
“Jen, people are
dead
,” Phoebe said. “It’s time to talk.”
The girl looked away and bit her lip again. At this rate, Phoebe thought, it was going to be a bloody pulp by the end of their conversation. Finally Jen looked back at Phoebe.
“You’re only supposed to know about the circles you’ve done and the one directly above them,” she said. “I’ve only done the first two. But someone told me about the fourth and fifth in secret.”
Phoebe already knew about the fourth. “What’s the fifth one?” she asked.
“‘Seduce and Exploit.’”
“You’re supposed to entice someone to have sex with you?”
“Kind of.”
“
Kind of
?” Phoebe could feel her patience starting to fray.
“Well, yes, sex if you want. But you can find some other way to win their favor.”
“And what’s the exploit part?”
Jen looked away yet again, and this time when she turned her head back, she never looked directly into Phoebe’s eyes.
“You entice them to do something for you or give you something you need.”
“So you have sex with a boy and then have him write a term paper for you—something like that?”
“No, not a boy. You have to seduce someone in power. So what they have to share is really worthwhile.”
Wow, Phoebe thought, it was just as the psychologist had told her—girl power totally run amuck.
“Like a professor, then?” Phoebe asked. “Or someone in the administration?”
“Yes,” Jen said, nearly in a whisper.
“And you don’t know the sixth circle?”
“No—just the name. It’s called ‘Secure.’”
“As in ‘to secure’?”
“Yes. I think it might have something to do with forging your future somehow. That’s all I know.”
Her comment was vaguely similar to what Alexis Grey had said about the Sixes taking care of you after college. Phoebe was baffled. It was hard to imagine such a malicious group of girls morphing into a spunky career-networking operation.
At that Jen let her shoulders sag, like a kid who was growing bored and irritated. “I should probably go now.” She rose from the couch and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her slicker. “They might wonder where I am. So you’re going to help, right?”
“The Sixes are still in operation—even with Blair in jail?”
“It’s sort of a mess, but they’re trying to keep it going,” she said.
“Who’s in charge now? Another senior?”
“Yes, but I can’t tell you who,” Jen said. “She’s a friend of mine. We—”
She broke off, looking like she’d given too much away. Phoebe bet it might be Rachel, the girl she saw Jen yammering to that day after class. Rachel was a senior.
“Okay, Jen, I’ll see what I can find out. But you have to do the same for me. About Fortuna. I expect to hear from you.” She paused. “I also need you to find out what the sixth circle entails.”
“But they’ll never tell me that,” Jen said. “Besides, I don’t see how knowing any of that would help.”
“Let me worry about that. Just find it out.”
Jen started to move toward the door
“There’s one more thing I need to know before you go,” Phoebe said. “Was Lily Mack trying to extricate herself from the Sixes?”
Jen sighed, thrusting her hands deeper into her pockets.
“Yes, she wanted out. And I heard Blair was furious about it. She felt really betrayed.”
“How long had Lily been a member?”
“Just since last spring. After her boyfriend left.”
“And why did she want to quit this fall? Because she started to find out what the Sixes were up to?”
Jen finally met Phoebe’s eyes and held them.
“No, it wasn’t really that. She was going through the fifth circle this fall, and the man she was supposed to, you know, seduce . . . she fell in love with him. And she didn’t want to use him in any way. That’s why she wanted out.”
Phoebe found herself swallowing hard. She didn’t like where this was going.
“So who was it?”
“I don’t know. I swear. The only thing I know is that she was on a committee with him. Blair said that was how Lily first got to know him.”
The school, Phoebe knew, seemed to form a committee every time you turned around. That’s how she had met Duncan, after all—on a committee made up just of faculty. There were others for students only, and some that included a combination of faculty, students, and administration. Jen had been on the committee Stockton had organized about student life—that’s where he’d seen her exchange a look with the other girl, Molly Wang, when he raised the topic of sororities. It should be easy enough, for Phoebe, to figure out which one Lily had participated in this fall.
As soon as Jen left, scurrying down the porch steps, Phoebe began to pace. She felt totally wired from the tarot card and now from Jen’s visit. Her gut told her Jen didn’t have a clue about Fortuna. Other members—Blair and the senior council—certainly might. But how could they have ever found out? Glenda was the only one here who knew about Fortuna. Could her friend have told someone?
Phoebe stopped abruptly. She debated whether she should even bother calling Michelson to tell him about the tarot card. Would he even care? The fact that the Sixes might know horrible details from her past and choose to torment her about them would have no relevance to the deaths they were investigating, even if Blair and Gwen
were
guilty.
She thought back on what Jen had shared about the scarf. If the story was true, it meant that someone was trying hard to implicate Blair—and perhaps by association, the other Sixes. That clearly suggested that the killer was someone at Lyle College, someone who knew the Sixes made a perfect target.
And that took her right back to where she’d started on Monday. If the Sixes hadn’t killed Hutch, then the murderer could very well be a psychopath, someone who received his kicks purely from killing. But there was now something new to factor in, something she should have followed up on before: the new man who’d been in Lily’s life this fall. In her mind she heard the line Lily had supposedly said to Amanda:
Wouldn’t I be a fool to date a little boy again?
Phoebe glanced at her watch. It was almost four and she hadn’t heard from Glenda yet. She tried Glenda’s cell again, and when that proved futile, she rang the office number once more.
“I’m sorry, she’s still out, Ms. Hall,” the assistant informed her.
“It’s really urgent I speak to her, and she’s not picking up her cell.” Phoebe realized that she sounded like a child not getting her way.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me telling you,” the assistant said. “She was going to pick up Brandon from school today and help him with his homework. From there she was heading over to a literary magazine fair they’re holding on the quad this afternoon.”
“All right, I’ll try to catch up with her at the fair.” Then Phoebe had an idea. “One more question. Do you know how I could find a list of all the school committees this term, and who’s on them?”
“I’m not sure who would have access to that list. Dr. Johns, of course. And probably Dean Stockton.”
Stockton was the last person in the world Phoebe wanted to ask.
As soon as she hung up, Phoebe realized she couldn’t wait for the fair. She had to talk to Glenda
now
. She draped a coat over her shoulders, grabbed her purse, and headed for her car. Glenda would probably be back from Brandon’s school by now and Phoebe planned to stop by the house. She would be interrupting mommy time, she knew, but she had to learn if Glenda had ever shared information about her past with anyone at Lyle. Phoebe had driven only a block toward Glenda’s house when she was forced to flick on her windshield wipers because the drizzle had morphed into a light rain.