Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
“You’ll obviously need to conduct it or lead it—or whatever you call running a séance,” Aunt DeeDee said matter-of-factly, sounding less like my aunt than I’d ever heard her.
“This from the woman who made me burn a pack of tarot cards someone gave me in sixth grade?”
Aunt DeeDee gave me a look that said this ask was completely different. “You know this isn’t the same.”
Do I though?
“It’s exactly because you know it’s a load of hogwash that you have to do it,” she explained. “Maybe Presley—or whoever the murderer is—will reveal themself.”
I blinked at my aunt, the woman who hadn’t wanted me to trick or treat when I was five years old because Halloween was “the devil’s holiday.
” She and Momma had gotten in a disagreement that was less a fight and more a bemused discussion before they’d compromised.
Aunt DeeDee would take me to the church’s fall festival, where sweet old ladies handed out lollipops taped to a book of Psalms, and then I would trick or treat with Lacy around town.
Momma had indulged Aunt DeeDee, figuring that any child would like double candy.
“You do realize that I have no idea how to conduct a séance,” I said.
Aunt DeeDee waved away that excuse. “Fiddlesticks. You sit in a circle, light some candles, and wave your hands around while mumbling to summon the dead. I would do it, but no one would believe me.” Her eyes lit with an idea. “You can use the Vampire Room.”
“Oh, Lord,” I breathed, wondering if it was some kind of twisted fate that I’d discussed this very room with Savilla last night in front of her to-scale dollhouse.
“Language, dear,” said my aunt.
The irony was almost too rich.
“How do you know about the Vampire Room?”
“There’s very little I don’t know about this pageant, darlin’.”
“It’s not the worst idea,” Joe said, speaking up for the first time. “Not that I think Presley had anything to do with Brett’s death, but if someone else did, then maybe they’ll out themselves.”
The two of them were right. It struck me once again that Aunt DeeDee believed in Joe, that she basically lived her life trusting people until they proved she shouldn’t.
Before I could respond, my phone rang, startling me more than it should have. It was Lacy.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Where are you?” Lacy’s voice was tear-filled.
I didn’t know how to answer. If I told her I was in Joe’s room discussing a possible séance with my aunt, there would be too many questions. “On the fourth floor,” I said instead. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Can you meet me in the back garden?”
“Sure.”
“Near the rose hedge maze.”
“Be right there.” I hung up. “I’ve got to go check on Lacy. I guess, spread the word about the… the séance?” I could hardly believe I was saying those words.
“We’ll do it in a couple of hours,” Aunt DeeDee decided. “When the moon is high in the sky. That sounds like a thing people would do.”
I screwed up my mouth as I studied this woman who seemed nothing like my aunt.
Still, this might give me enough time to help Lacy.
That email was supposed to go out to her clients at midnight, but perhaps if we got Presley—or whomever—to confess, they would suddenly remember useful information to help us break into Brett’s account.
Between searching for an email password, where the diamond might have been hidden, and a murderer, my night was packed.
Aunt DeeDee gave me a knowing look. “You can figure this out, Dakota. You can.”
I was grateful for her confidence because in that moment, knowing that both my friend and half-sister needed me as much as the investigation did, I certainly felt less than.
When I reached the back garden, the stars were blaring through the indigo haze of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Anton was pacing in front of the maze, staring at his phone and fuming. As I drew nearer, I spotted Lacy on the bench, leaning forward, her eyes down. She looked up as she heard me approach.
“What happened?” I asked, glancing between the two of them.
He stopped and held up the screen of his phone so I could see words that were too tiny to read from that distance. “Brett Brinkley’s email,” he said, through clenched teeth. His face was a deep red and he was practically spitting.
“He set it up to send early to Anton, along with a threat,” Lacy said, trying not to cry.
“If this man weren’t already dead, I would kill him myself.” There was venom in Anton’s words.
I read the screen as Lacy came to my side.
Anton,
Please enjoy the photos Lacy shared with me. To me, she’s like a rare jewel, an irreplaceable gem, though not the one that got away. Encourage her to behave before these are shared with her clients. I know TMZ would love to get their hands on these.
Sincerely,
BB
TMZ, huh? That very same supposedly-news outlet had likely already spread the word of his death.
If Brett had actually auto-timed the images to go to them tonight at midnight, they’d be very confused—and likely very excited.
An anonymous missive was always fascinating, especially if it carried the hint of sex and murder.
These images would be not only visible to Lacy’s clients.
They would be everywhere by tomorrow morning, and Lacy’s name would become a household term for the kind of woman who didn’t meet society’s puritanical expectations.
I cringed as I once again read Brett’s formal-sounding words filled with such malicious meaning and scrolled down to see three attachments that I didn’t open.
“Two are photos.” Lacy sniffed. “The third one is a one-minute video of us in the act. I had no idea he had… something like that.”
Brett had done it again, recording an intimate moment for future use. Bile rose in the back of my throat.
I didn’t need to look at the attachments to know how harmful they were. Lacy’s emotions blanketed her face.
“You know I’m not angry with you,” Anton said, moving to the other side of Lacy and pulling her into his arms. “I’m furious with him, with his sick, twisted…
” He clenched his hands like he’d gotten Brett’s neck in his grip and was ready to squeeze.
He looked at me as if I had some kind of answer.
“Brett dated Lacy a decade ago and he was still obsessed with her?”
“I don’t think he was obsessed with me,” Lacy said, staring at the ground. “He just wanted views for his show, and he thought I was an easy target.”
“Why couldn’t he have hired an actress if he was so intent on having the content for his show?” Anton asked. “Or found some other girl who wanted fifteen minutes of fame?”
My stomach turned over. I thought I might know.
Brett was a man with power, a man who wanted to see if he could actually get away with threatening a vulnerable person.
He likely got some sort of jolt of machismo out of wielding his control, but ultimately, he’d arranged all of this—as well as the blackmailing of Mr. Finch and perhaps at one time even his own girlfriend—because he could.
“It’s after eight,” Lacy said, checking her phone. “I have less than four hours until these photos go to my clients, to TMZ. Until they’re everywhere.”
Anton locked eyes with Lacy, and in that moment I could see how much he loved, even adored, her.
“Okay,” I said. “We have how many more tries with the password?”
“Two, maybe one?” Lacy answered. “I tried it twice last night, and I’m not sure if the count resets after a certain amount of time.”
I read the message to Anton one more time, pointing to the middle phrase: though not the one that got away.
“This is just like in the password hint,” I suggested. “We still need to find the name of this person.”
“Does it matter at this point?” Anton asked. “This email seems less like a clue with some hidden message and more like it was intended to threaten Lacy and make me want to kill him.”
Before I could respond, my phone dinged with messages from Savilla.
Talked to financial guy. He had these images from when Daddy got the diamond appraised a few years ago when he was going to sell it.
My phone dinged again, and an image came through, this one a close-up of the edge of the Rose Diamond, a series of tiny numbers, reading 1434.7.
“What are those?” I mumbled. “A serial number?”
Anton began to pace again, still fuming, while Lacy peered over my shoulder. “No. It’s a code,’ she clarified. ‘It means, I love you more. Forever.”
“How do you know that?”
“The numbers correspond to the number of letters in the words,” Lacy answered. “It’s something Brett used to do. Write me little notes with codes.”
“Is this a thing?” I asked.
Anton, who was listening, seemed as baffled as me.
“Yeah, Katy Perry released an album called 143 last year.” Lacy looked at the two of us as if we were aliens from another planet. “And it’s a line in Brett’s song, in the bridge at the end.” She started humming and then sang the words, “I love you more. Forever.”
I wasn’t convinced, but Lacy certainly was. “It has to be a code from him,” she insisted.
One last message from Savilla confirmed Lacy’s theory.
I asked finance guy to see records. The numbers were added to the stone in 2022 when it was appraised—and before it disappeared.
Which meant Brett must’ve requested the numbers be added around the time he blackmailed Mr. Finch with the video of Savilla, a kind of extra guarantee that Mr. Finch was serious about leaving him the stone.
I considered Brett’s message as well as this new intel, that maybe wasn’t so new. “In the Music Room, what did you say the password hint on Brett’s email was?”
Lacy had memorized it by now. “It said, ‘Diamond numbers, hashtag, lowercase, name of the one that got away.’”
“What did you try?”
“I put in 4#lacy, because he gave me a ring with four tiny diamonds when we were dating.” Realization dawned on Lacy’s face. “But maybe this is the number he was talking about.”
“Since you’re not the one who got away, that part is wrong too.”
We were one step closer to the answer, one step closer to rebalancing the scales of justice.
“I think everything may be connected. Give me a couple more hours, and we’ll figure this out. I promise.” I looked into her eyes, willing her to trust me, willing myself to be right.
Lacy started to tear up as she kept my gaze. “And if we run out of time?”
“Then I’ll make a video of myself riding bareback in the nude and send them to all of your clients to distract them from two silly pictures and a video from before your brain was finished cooking. Deal?”
Lacy didn’t quite laugh but she did give me the edge of a smile. I would take it.