The Lies That We Tell

Chapter 1

“What do you mean she’s missing?” Tate’s father asks. His face is pale, and beads of sweat dot his forehead.

When Rhyann didn’t return from the bathroom, my brother went in after her. All I got from him was a two word text that pretty much shut the entire gala down.

“I told you, all I got was a text from Dev saying ‘She’s gone’. I don’t know anything else,” I explain to Adrian.

Adrian glares at me. He’s always thought of Rhyann as his daughter. Treated her as one after her parents died. So, it’s no surprise that he’s panicking like a father whose daughter just went missing. “And, where is your brother?”

Now I begin to worry. Devon hasn’t answered his phone since he left to go find Rhyann. “I don’t know. He isn’t answering his phone.”

The two detectives from earlier this week make their quiet entrance and approach the small group consisting of me, Adrian, and the Devereux family’s lawyer. I explain to the detective every detail of the evening, answering every question they ask without missing a single detail. I’m wrapping up my short story as Tate and his fiancee finally make their appearance.

“Where have you been, man?” I ask. I know my tone is a little accusatory, but considering all that’s happened today, I can’t help it.

“Sorry, Aubree was held up at home.” Tate looks to the thin blonde beside him, then to his father. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what we are trying to figure out,” is all his father says before turning to the detectives to speak with them privately.

“Rhyann’s missing, Devon took off and isn’t answering my calls,” I explain to the perplexed newcomers.

“Maybe the two of them ran off together,” Aubree adds in her sickeningly sweet voice. God, I hate her. I’ve only met her a couple times, but the fake sweetness, the I’m a delicate southern girl act, it all makes me sick. I can’t understand what it is Tate sees in her.

“They wouldn’t do that,” Tate says before I have a chance to say something. He’s right- Dev and Rhyann wouldn’t take off like this. Tate pulls his phone from the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket.

“Baby, let’s go dance. I’m sure this little bit of drama will resolve itself.” Aubree tugs at Tate’s arm.

Tate pulls his arm back, his eyes not leaving the screen of his phone. She continues to whine for another thirty seconds before the orchestra music stops and Adrian is on stage making an announcement.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt tonight’s event, but we have an unfortunate situation on our hands,” Adrian explains. “All doors in or out have been locked, and no one is permitted to leave until they’ve been cleared by the two gentlemen beside me. I appreciate your patience and understanding, but tonight’s event is canceled. Thank you all.”

“Oh,” Aubree pouts. “This isn’t fair. We just got here.”

“What is your problem?” I snap at the girl. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest like a spoiled bratty child.

“My problem is this is the second time that girl has ruined my night,” she says.

Tate looks up from his phone, ignoring his date’s pleas to leave. “Aubree, go get us a drink,” he tells her in a not-so-kind tone.

“But—” she starts to protest, but Tate cuts her off.

“Now, please.”

“Fine.” She stomps off, her high heels making an audible clicking across the hard marble floor.

Once she’s out of earshot, Tate looks at me, concern written all over his face. “I have her phone’s location.”

“You what?” I ask.

“I put a tracking app on her phone after she fell asleep the night of the attempted kidnapping. Just in case,” he explains, showing me the screen. It’s a map, and there’s a blue dot moving south down the 680 freeway. Why he would send Aubree away to show me this is beyond me, but I can’t help but sigh with a small amount of relief at seeing that blue dot.

“So we can find her?”

“Well, her phone, at least. Let’s just hope that whoever was dumb enough to take her took her phone too,” Tate says before turning to go tell his father and the detectives.

I’m right behind him when my own phone starts buzzing. I pull it out from my pocket to see my twin’s name and face on the screen. About fucking time.

“Where the hell are you?”

“They won’t let me the fuck in the ballroom,” I seethe.

“So you’re here?” my brother asks.

My eyes roll as I let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s what I fucking said.” Pacing the floor in front of the ballroom doors, I fight the urge to clock the uniformed officer keeping me out. “She’s fucking gone, Li. Gone.”

“I know, Dev. But we’ll find her. Tate has her phone’s location.”

I stop dead at Liam”s words. “He what? Where is she?” Liam is quiet and I hear male voices mutter in the background, something about the freeway headed south. “Liam, where the fuck is she?” I ask again, rushing out the main entrance.

“We’re not sure if she’s even with her phone, man,” Liam says, his voice laced with concern.

“I don’t fucking care, I’m going after her. Where is it headed?”

“He says he’s going after her,” my brother explains to someone. There’s a rustling sound and then someone who is not my brother speaks into the phone.

“Mister Morris, this is Detective Myers,” the man says in a nasally voice. “You would be hindering our investigation if you pursue Miss Devereux’s phone location.”

I stop, ready to turn around and strangle this fucking idiot of a detective. “You and your investigation can suck my fat cock, Detective.” I decide to continue the path I’m already on. “If you’d have been doing your job right in the first place, Rhyann wouldn’t be missing right now. Put my fucking brother back on the phone.”

“Dev, I’d tell you not to do anything stupid, but—” Liam sighs once he’s back on the line.

“You know me better than that,” I sigh. Liam has put up with my self destructive bullshit since we lost our sister years ago. We’ve both always known I’ll be the next one he has to bury. But not before I save Rhyann.

“Listen, Dev,” Tate interrupts the call. “Her phone is moving south down the 680 toward the 101. They’re not moving very fast. So, either they’re trying to avoid attention or the phone isn’t with her.”

There’s a feminine whiney voice in the background that can only be Tate”s bitch of a fiancee. “Not now, Aubree. Please go sit down and I’ll be there in a second,” Tate tells her. I can hear her complain about his request before Tate returns to our conversation. “Be careful man, and if you find her, keep her safe.”

Before I’m able to hang up, my brother talks into the phone again. “Download the app I just sent you and use the login I sent over. That’ll log you into Tate”s tracking app with her location. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, we’re coming to look for you. Got it?”

“Yup,” I say and hang up the phone.

I download the app and log into the account my brother sent me, and sure enough, there’s a blue dot, moving down the freeway, not too far from where we are considering how long ago she left our table to use the bathroom. As long as there isn’t heavy traffic, I should be able to catch up to the vehicle before they reach the 101. That interchange is a pain in the ass and busy at times. I need to get to her before then.