Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6

by Freethy, Barbara

  And not just with the city but with Cole.

  "So what happened to Cole?" Laura asked. "I noticed the bandage on his head."

  "His girlfriend threw a stapler at him."

  Laura's eyes widened. "Really?"

  "That's what he said in the emergency room. Josh was with him. Do you remember Josh? He was one of the twins who grew up next door to the Parish family."

  "The laughing, smiling one, or the dark, brooding one?"

  "Laughing, smiling. The other one was Dylan."

  "Right, the magician. I wonder what happened to him."

  "I have no idea."

  "What did you do when you saw Cole?"

  "I was startled." Which was an understatement to say the least. Natalie didn't bother to explain that she'd taken off and Cole had made it his business to find her. Instead, she said, "I told him about the book and the signing. That's why we were together today."

  "So, any lingering sparks?" Laura asked, a curious gleam in her brown eyes.

  "We barely spoke," Natalie prevaricated. "And it was a long time ago."

  "You know what they say about first loves. You never forget 'em."

  "Well, you married your first love, so you can't forget him," Natalie said, changing the subject. "Tell me about your wedding. Did you wear the white dress with the long train that you dreamed about? Did you have the evening ceremony in a small chapel lit only with candles?" Laura's mouth trembled and Natalie could see she was on the verge of crying again. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

  "I just can't believe you remember that."

  "You talked about it enough," Natalie said lightly.

  "I guess I did." She looked down at her coffee, then back at Natalie. "It was a morning wedding, big church, hundreds of people, many of whom I didn't know. It was wonderful."

  Somehow Natalie didn't believe her, but she didn't want to get into what was obviously a touchy subject.

  "My parents love Drew," Laura continued. "My dad considers him the son he never had." She paused, a somber expression on her face. "Marrying Drew was the smartest thing I ever did. That's what my mom always says. And she's right. He gave me two great girls. I live in a beautiful home. What more could a woman want? Nothing, right? My life is perfect."

  "If you weren't trying so hard to convince me, I might believe you," Natalie said quietly, taking a sip of her coffee. "No one's life is perfect."

  "It's just that Drew works a lot. I haven't even had a chance to tell him about the book. I know he'll be shocked." Laura leaned forward as she said, "When you read the book, Natalie, didn't you feel like one of us was talking? It's crazy. I didn't write that book, and I don't think you had anything to do with it, so who? Madison?"

  Natalie hated to think that Madison would have done anything to exploit Emily's memory, but someone had to have spoken to the author. "It seems the most likely possibility."

  "Maybe we should try to find her. She might be here in the Bay Area. Her parents lived in Marin County. It would make sense for her to be somewhere around here. Although she could still be in Europe." Laura took a breath. "Do you remember that Halloween when Emily dressed up as a fortune-teller and predicted our futures? She said Madison would live in Paris, meet a sexy painter, and make love all afternoon. Maybe that came true."

  "Maybe, but she also said you would marry the prince of a small foreign country and wear a tiara in your hair. And I would end up globetrotting the world with an adventurer, braving rapids, climbing mountains, and jumping out of airplanes. That was the silliest prediction of all." It saddened her to realize that no one had ever predicted a future for Emily. Why hadn't one of them donned the fortune-teller's cape and looked into the crystal ball for Emily?

  They sat for a moment just looking at each other. The air between them was thick with sadness and regret, two emotions that Natalie had spent a lot of time living with. She glanced down at her watch, relieved to see the time. She had to go to work. Work was the only place where she could forget. "I have to go to the hospital.”

  "All right, but what are we going to do about Malone? I think it was you he ran away from, Natalie, not me."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because if you read a little farther in the book, you'll see that..." Laura's voice dropped off. "Never mind. Just keep reading."

  "What am I going to find out?" Natalie asked, feeling suddenly queasy.

  Laura bit down on her bottom lip. "I could be wrong, but you know in the prologue how he says one of us knew what happened to Emily that night? Everything seems to be pointing to you."

  "In what possible way?"

  "In the book, Ellie asks Nancy to get her a drug from the health center to help her focus on her homework better, because Nancy works there and has access to the medication."

  "But I didn't have access, and I told Emily that she should never take anything that wasn't prescribed by her doctor, that it would be dangerous."

  "I know that, Natalie, but in the book it makes it sound like you and Em had a huge fight about it. And we both know she got that bottle of pills somewhere."

  "But she didn't take any," Natalie said, as her heart sank to her stomach. The police had found a bottle of Adderall in Emily's dresser drawer, a medication used to treat attention deficit disorder, and one that had become the drug of choice for normal kids wanting to improve concentration in late-night cramming sessions. Which reminded her that this nightmare was getting worse. If the book became connected to her, if St. Timothy's found out that she was supposed to have played a role in someone's death with medication she'd stolen from a health center, her reputation could be ruined. She couldn't stand the thought of losing everything she had worked so hard to get.

  "It might not have been the only bottle," Laura said. "No one knows where she got it or how much she had. But that's not all. The story line also implies that you and Emily were fighting about Cole, that Emily was against your relationship, that she thought you were using her to get to Cole."

  "God," Natalie said on a sigh. It was getting worse and worse.

  "And you were drunk the night of the party—so drunk you couldn't remember where you'd been or who you'd been with."

  Natalie didn't need to be reminded of her behavior that night or the fact that she hadn't been able to remember where she'd been or what she'd done. It had been a defining moment in her life. After Emily's death, she'd taken a good look at herself, at who she was, what she'd become, and she hadn't liked what she saw. So she'd changed. But changing hadn't brought Emily back. And not being there for her friend, not being able to remember what she'd done in those few important hours, would haunt her for the rest of her life.

  "So I'm the villain," Natalie said, feeling a surge of anger. "Who the hell does this guy think he is to accuse me of things he knows nothing about?"

  "Well, he knows more than nothing, that's for sure. Maybe no one besides us will recognize the story," Laura added hopefully.

  "I doubt that. There are too many people reading the book. And there were a lot of people at the party that night."

  "What can we do? We can't pull the book off the shelves."

  "Maybe the publisher can—if they believe the book has been misrepresented as fiction. I'm going to call a lawyer, find out what our options are."

  "Wouldn't we have to prove that the story was true? Wouldn't that mean bringing it all out in the public? Do we want to do that, Natalie? Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

  Laura was right. The last thing they needed was more publicity. "At the very least we should find out what choices we have. Then we should try to find Madison. If you didn't talk to Garrett Malone, and I didn't talk to him, then it had to be Maddie."

  "Why would she tell?"

  "Money," Natalie tossed out. "If there was ever a girl who knew the value of a dollar, it was Maddie."

  "She wouldn't sell out Emily."

  Natalie looked Laura straight in the eye. "If she didn't, then one of us is lying."

  Chapte
r Four

  Madison Covington sat at the head of the conference table. Three of her coworkers awaited her instructions. Since transferring from the New York office three months earlier, she had been promoted to senior account executive for Barney and Baines Public Relations in San Francisco. With any luck, she intended to change the name of the firm to Barney, Baines, and Covington Public Relations in the very near future. The masquerade ball they were planning, the event that had brought them all together on this Saturday afternoon, was going to blow the lid off celebrity charity events. Madison intended to raise over five hundred thousand dollars in one night for crippled children. Her future would be made. And the crippled children wouldn't be bad off, either.

  "I want everyone to wear masks," she said. "No exceptions. This masquerade party will be the talk of the town." And she would be the talk of the PR world, the queen of the celebrity charity event. She so enjoyed being the queen, she thought with a small smile. But first she had to get back to business. "Lisa, how are we doing with the hotel?"

  The twenty-two-year-old newly minted college grad glanced down at her checklist. "Everything is on target. The menu is set. The decorations have been ordered. The seating chart is almost complete." Lisa hesitated, then said, "We've had some last-minute cancellations, Ms. Covington. I have the names right here."

  "Who?" Madison asked, suddenly worried that it would be the Parishes sending regrets. Ever since she'd seen their RSVP come in, she'd been waiting for them to figure out it was her party, giving them more than enough reason to pass. She was one of the girls who had led Emily astray, and she hadn't even had the decency to stick around for their daughter's funeral, not that that was her fault. Her parents had given her no choice.

  She knew coming back to San Francisco would mean seeing the Parishes at some point, especially Richard and Cole, who ran the Tribune. It was her job to work the press, and they were the press. Her boss had already suggested on more than one occasion that she find an opportunity to get personally acquainted. So far, she'd managed to put that off without explaining why. "Well?" she asked impatiently as Lisa shuffled through her papers.

  "Gwen Parker. She has to fly to Madrid for an early start on her movie."

  That wasn't so bad. Gwen Parker wasn't that big of a star.

  "And Harry Stone," added Jean, an older woman who had returned to public relations after taking ten years off to have babies. "His wife is nine months pregnant and doesn't want to attend any more parties this close to her due date."

  "Who do we have to replace them?"

  "Stephan Paoletti, the tenor," Jean replied. "He just had a special on HBO. And Colin Davies, the quarterback of the 49ers."

  "Good. Now on to entertainment. We still need a pre-party act." She turned to Robbie, a junior account executive with a lot of ambition. "What have you found?"

  "An illusionist," Robbie replied. "He runs the new club south of Market that specializes in virtual reality, techno-magic. Everyone is talking about him. His name is Dylan Somerville. Have you heard of him?"

  Her heart skipped a beat. Had she heard of him? She'd lost a lot of sleep over Dylan Somerville, and she was a woman who prided herself on not losing sleep over anyone. She'd figured Dylan was somewhere in San Francisco. She'd even thought about trying to hook up with him again but to date hadn't quite found the nerve to go looking for him. Now an opportunity had just landed in her lap.

  "He's very good," Lisa added. "His club is sold out every weekend."

  "What would he do at the event? Pull rabbits out of a hat? This is a classy party."

  "He can make things disappear," Robbie replied. "Big things, like a car or a person. Right before your eyes."

  "Sure he can," she said cynically.

  "It's true," Lisa said. "I was in the front row last weekend and he did some amazing tricks, really cool stuff. You should go see him, at the very least. I think magic would add a nice touch to the masquerade party."

  They had good points. She could drop by Dylan's club and check him out. She could even personally extend the invitation to perform at her event. And maybe if Dylan didn't react to her with absolute horror, he could be a bridge to Cole; he could help her smooth things over with the Parish family. She loved it when everything clicked into place.

  "All right. I'll go by the club." She glanced around the table. "If that's it, you can take off. Have a good rest of the weekend."

  As her associates left, Madison sat back in her chair, wondering if the past would have come back in such vibrant technicolor if she hadn't made the decision to transfer to San Francisco. Maybe if she'd stayed in New York, she would have been able to keep it all at arm's length, the way she had for the past ten years. Oh, well, too late now. She'd made her choice, and she'd make the most of it. This was a great city with great opportunities. And she was a beautiful, successful woman. Dylan Somerville would not be able to ignore her this time around. Not to mention the fact that she didn't have Emily for competition.

  What a horrible thing that was to think. Poor sweet Emily was dead. And it had never been Emily's fault that Dylan had been infatuated with her. Sometimes Madison wondered if Emily had even known about his crush. He'd certainly kept it hidden from everyone else, including his best friend Cole. But Madison had known. At nineteen she hadn't understood that her attention to detail, to the things that made people tick, would actually become a very handy tool in the business world.

  At twenty-nine, she knew quite well that the best way to get what she wanted from people was to give them something they wanted. The question was -- what did she want from Dylan after all these years? A little revenge, she thought with a self-indulgent smile. Payback for those sleepless nights. Maybe it was time to show Dylan what he'd passed up all those years ago.

  Standing up, she gathered her papers together and turned on her cell phone just in time to take an incoming call. She didn't recognize the number and was startled, not to mention annoyed, to hear her mother's voice. She'd been avoiding her mother all week. "Mom, where are you?" she asked sharply.

  "I'm at Alice's house," Paula Covington replied, referring to her sister. "I left you two messages at your apartment yesterday and today. Are you screening my calls?"

  "I've been busy."

  "Too busy to talk to me?"

  Madison refused to be taken in by the hurt note in her mother's voice. Her mother only wanted to talk to her when it was convenient or when she needed something. Madison had learned that before she was out of diapers.

  "We have to talk about that book. And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

  Madison toyed with the idea of pretending just that, but ignorance would only elicit a long-winded explanation from her mother. "I know about it, but there's nothing to talk about."

  "Of course there is. Someone is trying to create a scandal, and we can't have that. Edward's seat in the assembly is up this year. We can't have any rumors attached to the family."

  "Edward is hardly family, Mother. He's been your fourth husband for a year, and quite frankly, I've lost interest in acquiring any more stepfathers."

  "Madison, that's very rude. Edward has been nothing but good to you. Don't tell me you've forgotten that he took care of everything when you ran out on your wedding last year. You should show some loyalty."

  Madison sighed. She did not want to get into a discussion about her botched wedding plans or family loyalty. "Look, the book isn't about me. It's about Natalie."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. I've read every word."

  "This could still spill over. I know your name isn't mentioned specifically in the book, and you certainly aren't accused of murder, but you could be connected to the story, and we can't have that. I thought this was over ten years ago when we sent you to Paris to get you away from those girls."

  "Don't worry, I'm fine. I really have to go back to work. I'll talk to you soon." Madison ended the call on her mother's protest and closed her phone. She walked over to the window and
stared out at the San Francisco skyline. Yes, it was all coming back. There was no escape. Not for any of them.

  She wondered what the others were thinking, especially Laura and Natalie. Their private moments, conversations, and thoughts had been put into a book that millions could read.

  They'd been stripped naked and exposed... It wasn't fair, but then life wasn't fair. Natalie had told them all that a million times. Natalie, with her fiery hair and intense drive to succeed, was now being called to account for the murder of her best friend.

  Had Natalie read the book? Did she have any idea who was after her?

  * * *

  Natalie couldn't sleep. She'd been tossing and turning since she'd returned home from the hospital just after midnight. It was now almost three a.m. and her eyes felt dry, incapable of closing. She supposed she could read. The book was on her nightstand just waiting for her to pick up where she'd left off. But she was afraid.

  Turning those pages would take her back to a place she didn't want to go. A place where youthful dreams had flourished, where passion had run her life, where friendship and love had been more important than anything else. She'd loved those girls—Emily, Laura, and Madison—loved them as she'd never loved anyone in her life. For fifteen months, a blink of an eye, she realized now, she'd been a part of something special, wonderful, irreplaceable.

  A knot of sweet emotion made it hard to swallow. She closed her eyes willing sleep, blessed oblivion, to come, but instead the past came rushing back to greet her.

  Emily sat up in the twin bed next to hers and turned on the light. She wore her brown hair in two long braids, which made her look about twelve, especially when combined with the pink T-shirt that said GIRLS RULE, baggy pajama bottoms, and thick socks that didn't match.

  "What's wrong?" Natalie asked, blinking against the bright light. "It's two o'clock in the morning."

  "And you can't sleep. I heard you tossing and turning."