The Tell-Tale Con

by Aimee Gilchrist

  “No problem. Man, though, I gotta tell you. You two kick off some major negative vibes. You gotta chill. Go home. Toke up. Worry about your book tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rules of the Scam #23

  Never steal from your friends. It’s way too easy for them to identify you to the police…

  We thanked Greg for his sage advice and headed back to the car that was parked up the street and around the corner. I waited until we were safely inside and on our way to the airport before I said, “Well, aside from getting schooled by a pot-head Zen Elvis, I don’t think that was much of a success.”

  Harrison pushed some of his dark hair out of his eyes. “It was a success. We know we can take Greg off the list.”

  “I got that impression too. He definitely doesn’t strike me as a person on the war path. Or, like, pretty much any path, except that to enlightenment.”

  “Yeah. I’m not feeling Naomi either. I don’t think we should bother forcing our way in to her place. Anyway, I know Naomi a little. She wouldn’t hurt a kid. Even Van Poe’s kid.”

  “Did you know about Mark?” I asked, quietly, like somehow that would lessen the sting.

  He shrugged, the darkness back. “I knew he was hurt doing a stunt for Dad. I didn’t know about the whole do it or lose your job part. But the thing about the industry is that talk can’t always be trusted. We’ll have to find out if it’s true if we’re going to clear him off the list.”

  “So how do you recommend we find out if it’s true?”

  I was curious what he’d say. “We’ll just have to ask him. It’s the only fair way.”

  “You believe he’ll tell you the truth?” This seemed to be an interesting study in the way that Harrison’s brain worked. If Mark was the one trying to kill Harrison, he was unlikely to tell him the truth about his motivations. But Harrison appeared inclined to believe him, either way. Which meant that if the evidence pointed at Mark, Harrison was unlikely to be swayed.

  “You’re very close to the people on your dad’s staff, huh?”

  He nodded. “I’ve known a lot of them my entire life. Including Ana and Mark. Ana lived with us for awhile. I guess she was my nanny, in a way. I kind of think she was hoping that Dad would marry her, but he would never go for a normal girl from Arkansas. Not exotic enough.”

  Hmm. That gave her a good reason for hating Van, because nothing pissed a girl off more than being dumped in favor of Yoko Ono. Especially after he’d let her move in and play mother to Harrison. He’d no doubt given her the boot without the slightest hint of sensitivity when Kanako had come along.

  “Wow, that must have been hard when she left.” I said gently, fishing, but he didn’t seem to notice. Which was the whole point of fishing well.

  “Yeah, but I still see her. I mean, she helps me find info all the time, from third grade papers on Iceland to the totally obscure. She’s the one who found the demon for me when I told her the name Nate used.”

  The hair on my arms raised, and I restrained the urge to rub my skin. This was too much. I knew better than to assume the obvious, but Ana was looking more and more suspect with every second that passed. “That’s…nice of her.”

  “Yeah, well, anyway, Mark was on my list. But it doesn’t make me happy.”

  I wanted to find some way to apologize for what he was going through and the ugly truths he had to face. But, I was no good at that crap, so I didn’t say anything at all.

  We unloaded at the airport, thanked the driver, and went looking for Harrison’s plane and jockey. We were loading up when his phone rang. Not the one he used to talk to me, but his real phone. He glanced at it for a moment and then answered. “Hey Dad. No, I took the plane out to Vegas. I’m on my way home now.”

  I was somewhat stunned that anyone would tell their parents what Harrison had. He’d skipped school, taken a plane, flown to another state without first contacting an adult. But I couldn’t hear any yelling. He looked like he was listening to information. He nodded a couple of times, as though it was instinctive and not a real part of the conversation.

  “Okay, thanks for letting me know. Yeah, I’m on my way back now. Okay, see ya.” Once the phone was off he slid it back into his pocket. “The police finally released Nate’s body. I guess the funeral will be on Friday afternoon.”

  “That’ll be hard,” I said, as though pointing out the obvious would somehow comfort him.

  He made a grunting noise that was neither a confirmation nor a denial. I was such a loser at being a friend. “You’re going with me aren’t you?”

  “What?” That was the last question I’d expected.

  “I mean, you’re going to go, right?”

  “I…I don’t know. Don’t you think that would be kind of…weird? I didn’t know Nate.” The only occasion I’d ever seen him he’d been pretty dead at the time.

  “I doubt anyone will notice you’re there. And if you don’t go how will you see who’s there and how they’re acting?”

  Oh. Hmmm. How would I know? “Valid point.”

  “Just go with me.”

  It wasn’t part of my job description. If he was being bossy, I would have immediately bristled and said no. But there was an element of pleading about the statement. He didn’t want to go alone, and, in this instance, I was fairly certain going with his family would be the same as going alone in his mind.

  I would have said no.

  To anyone else.

  “Okay.”

  He smiled slightly, a lopsided, heart-tuggingly sad little lift of the right side of his mouth. We needed to solve this mess and quit hanging out.

  The flight home was considerably less eventful in my mind, now that I knew Harrison wasn’t some crazy arrogant hot-head who thought he could fly a plane and was going to crash us into the side of a Bob’s Big Boy. In fact, I slept a little bit.

  It was afternoon when we got back, and Harrison was right, we’d missed so much school that there was no point in trying. So we stopped and had something to eat before going home. Which was good for me, since I was starving. We got home approximately the same time we would have from school.

  We said goodbye on the corner, and I left his car on the curb. He couldn’t drive it, but it was always there in the morning anyway, so I supposed that’s where he left it all night. At least at the moment, anyway, so I could hop in the driver’s seat without going into the subterranean basement where the richies parked.

  When I got inside I threw my backpack on the couch and headed straight for the kitchen to grab a drink. Unfortunately, Mom was in there. Not because I hated seeing her, but because I was exhausted and not in the mood for socializing. But she was feeling inexplicably chatty. “I got a phone call, a recording, from your school today saying that you were absent.”

  “Huh.” Go figure. I never missed school, so I’d simply had no idea that such a service existed. To notify the parents in case I was, say, flying in a private plane to Vegas with no warning. For a moment I considered telling my mother where I’d been as off hand as Harrison had told his father. But she wouldn’t believe me, wouldn’t care, or would want to know exactly how much that kind of plane was worth on the open market.

  She didn’t actually care whether or not I was at school. In fact, my relentless pursuit of an education was annoying to her and my father both. They thought an education was for people who hadn't been blessed with a natural talent for bilking. Or laundry, if you asked Mr. Wong.

  “You also got another phone call.”

  It was the way she said it, the sly inflection, which told me this was not a message I wanted to be hearing. I refused to play her game. She wanted to bait me, and it always drove her crazy that I was indifferent to mind games.

  I shrugged.

  “Don’t you want to know who called?”

  “If you want to tell me.”

  She scowled, creating lines that made her look older than she was. “You take the fun out of everything, Tallulah.”

  �
��Yeah, that’s me. Fun sucker.”

  “Well, it was Gray. Gray called you.”

  The words were exactly the punch in the gut that Mom hoped they would be. But I was done letting Peter Gray ruin my life. I gave her the barest hint of a shrug, one shoulder lifted slightly higher.

  My lack of visible reaction was clearing bugging Mom.

  “Don’t you want to know what he wanted?”

  “No.”

  “He wants to talk to you,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to him.” Was that ever an understatement. I’d personally like to pretend I’d never met him at all.

  “I don’t know what your problem is. Gray is a good guy.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s a liar, and a cheater, and a con man.” And he’d broken my heart. Back when I believed that I had one.

  Mom shrugged philosophically. “Well, fine. He’s a good con man. That’s just as good.”

  To her it was. She was incensed that I’d been born with innate conning ability that I refused to use. As if she could read my mind she started again on her favorite rant. “He was good enough for you before you decided to grow a conscience, Tallulah.”

  “Most people are born with one,” I pointed out blandly.

  “Those are the people who are not born with your skills. Do you know how many people I’ve seen work and study for years trying to achieve what comes effortlessly to you?”

  “Mom, conning people is not a life skill, no matter how much you admire it.”

  “It is a life skill. It’s a business.”

  I sighed. We’d been through this before half a million times. “Mowing people’s lawns is a business. Bankers giving loans? That’s a business. Stealing people’s money is not a business.”

  She sighed, too, like she was as bored of this conversation as I was. “Look, Tallulah, the people I take money from are stupid. Really, really stupid. They fall for scams that no one who was intelligent would ever step into. If I didn’t take their money they’d make other unwise choices, like large personal loans for vacation and subprime mortgages that would end up being foreclosed on in five years. I’m doing the rest of the world a favor.”

  “So you’re not robbing people. You’re single-handedly saving the economy.”

  She beamed at me. “Exactly.”

  I nodded. “Wow, that’s the single most amazing justification for robbing people I’ve ever heard in my life. Bravo.”

  She saluted me with her glass. “I live to serve. Anyway, so Gray is a criminal. That doesn’t mean you can’t date him.”

  “Actually,” I replied, “That’s exactly what it means. But in this case I broke up with Gray because, in addition to being a criminal, he’s also an asshat.”

  I’d been willing to put up with his criminal behavior even when I’d declared myself done with the whole deal because I’d always been stupid about Gray. But that was before he’d cheated on me. Four times.

  “You talked to him last time he called. This is because of that kid across the street, isn’t it?”

  It took me a minute to realize she meant Harrison. It bugged me that she knew about Harrison at all. Aside from the whole demon thing, anyway. “I talked to him the last time he called because he caught me off guard. Believe me, I’ll never make that mistake again. It has nothing to do with Harrison.”

  “When I saw how much time you’ve been spending together I checked your friend Harrison online. I have to tell you, Tallulah, he’s a good investment. Lots of money through both him and his parents. You’ve done well this time.”

  For a moment, red clouded the edge of my vision, and I had to talk myself down a little. Calmly, I said, “You stay away from him.” Possibly I wasn’t giving him enough credit, but he seemed so naïve to me. Like he was just waiting to be taken advantage of.

  “Well, of course I will. He’s your mark, Tallulah.”

  My rage grew exponentially in a sudden jab that overwhelmed me. I pulled in a hard breath. “He’s not a mark. He’s a person. You can’t talk about him like that. He deserves better.”

  Mom’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and I flushed hot like she’d caught me doing something terrible. “So that’s how it is, huh?”

  I was not an easy person to embarrass, as I’d been born without shame. But I was definitely embarrassed now. “Harrison is my friend.” Why I had to justify that, I didn’t know, but now that I said it I realized it was true. “You, yourself, taught me that you don’t steal from your friends. It’s rule twenty-three.”

  “Yes, because it’s much too easy for them to identify you to the police.”

  I pointed at her. “You are a morality black hole.”

  She smiled placidly. “Save the compliments for your marks, Tals. I’m confident enough already.”

  I filled a cup with soda and took a long drink because thoughts were moving too fast for me to organize what I wanted to say. “Someday you’re going to have to accept that I’m not into the idea of the family business.”

  “Let a mother have hope.”

  I shrugged and gave up. “I guess if it makes you happy.”

  This was a conversation we’d already had hundreds of times. Maybe thousands. I wasn’t in the mood to have it right now, just one more time. I also wasn’t in the mood to talk about my future plans, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood to talk about Gray.

  I probably never would be.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rules of the Scam #30

  No matter where you are, own it. You always belong…

  Friday afternoon, I met Harrison outside the school so he could drive us to the funeral. That morning when I’d shown up to drive him, Harrison was outside without a crutch or an air cast. Though he still had a noticeable limp, he was pretending to be perfectly fine. It was interesting to see how he responded to having an injury, first with annoyance and then by pretending it didn’t exist. Either way, he said he was well enough to drive, and I became obsolete. I wasn’t sure whether I was now supposed to take the bus or walk or if I was supposed to ride with him.

  But he opened the car door for me and seemed to assume I was going to ride in it. So I did. Not that I wanted to go, anyway. Because I still didn’t.

  But Harrison was right. This was information that we needed to have. Watching how other people looked and acted at a funeral seemed to be the most likely way to find suspects. So I’d worn a bit of black to school and slid on some dark sunglasses as a final touch. People would think I was in mourning when really I was spying. Harrison had changed into white slacks and a white button up shirt. It seemed like a strange choice, but I supposed it wasn’t my business what he elected to wear to his cousin’s funeral.

  The church that Harrison drove us too was large and new. I’d never been there because it was nestled at the foot of the Sandias in the kinds of neighborhoods where I’d feel like an imposter if I so much as pulled over to make a phone call in their parking lot. It didn’t matter though. I’d learned at my mother’s knee that no matter how awkward you felt, or how much you didn’t belong, you acted like you did.

  Though the building and parking lot were large, it was clear that Nate’s funeral had drawn an enormous crowd. I looked over the cars, nearly every spot filled, and people were starting to park out on the street.

  “Who are all these people?”

  “I don’t know. Some of them are members of the family and Nate’s friends, I’m sure.”

  We had to fight our way into the church, and it was standing room only. Nate wasn’t like some pillar of the community, so I was pretty certain we were talking about curiosity seekers here. Unless he’d been a lot more popular than I’d taken him for judging from Harrison’s descriptions. We took up a spot against the wall. I scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces. I did see Van and some of his flunkies, including Ana and a very, very bored looking Yoko Ono. I didn’t bother asking Harrison why they hadn’t come together. It wasn’t something I wanted to know anyway. I had to say, though, tha
t I was kind of impressed they’d shown up at all, since Nate wasn’t in any way related to them.

  The casket was closed, thank goodness, though there was no apparent reason since I’d seen him freshly dead, and he’d looked all right. Above the shoulders anyway. But whatever the reasons, the dark wood casket was sitting up there all shiny and closed, and the preacher stood in front of it.

  The preacher was doing the vague “I don’t actually know the victim, but listen to the nice things I’m saying” thing. I scanned the crowd. There was a large contingency of staid middle-aged people that I pegged as friends of Nate’s parents. Then there was the thuggish, younger crowd who looked like they’d learned how to dress for a funeral from a rap video. Finally there was a massive group of people dressed in East Indian traditional clothing, almost all of it white. There was so much white, in fact, that I felt a little awkward in black.

  “Are all those people related to you?” I whispered.

  He glanced that way and shrugged. Leaning in he whispered, “Some of them are. That group right there, especially. The woman with the gray bag is actually my mother. I didn’t know she was coming. But most of them are my uncle’s family. They’re here to take Nate’s ashes back to India so they can be sprinkled in the Ganges River. Normally there would be an open casket, and then the family would take the body out to be burned. Everything is different this time because Nate was murdered.”

  He pointed to the casket. “That’s empty. The ashes are already ready to be shipped. Nate’s parents are Hindu, sort of, but mostly they’re actually Christian. A strange combination of both, I guess. They would have buried him. They could since he’s unmarried, but my uncle’s family wouldn’t allow it. The Ganges has special properties to help people in their path to reincarnation, and they’re worried because Nate led a less than stellar life. When they’re done here, they’ll throw all his things away, and the clothes they’re wearing will be thrown out too.”