Liars, Inc.

Anna takes a step back. “Why are you asking me all this?”

 

 

“I can’t explain it,” I say. “But it’s really important.”

 

“He just went to school one morning and never came back.” She fiddles with her handful of napkins, rolling them into a cylinder between her palms. “The teachers said he never made it to class.”

 

I stare hard at the picture. The hair is much darker than Preston’s. Could I be wrong? Could it really be a picture of some other kid? But then why the hell did Preston have it? “Do you remember when it was that Adam disappeared?”

 

“Maybe eight or nine years ago?” she says. “The LA Times did a piece on how we might lose our funding. I’m sure you can find the information there.”

 

“Number four-forty-one,” the counter guy calls.

 

Anna looks down at her receipt and accidentally drops one of her napkins. For a second she freezes, like she’s debating whether she should rescue the napkin from the sticky floor or just leave it.

 

“I got it.” I bend down to get the napkin, which has tumbled its way across the floor and is sticking to the bottom of the trash can. I ball it up and toss it in the trash.

 

“Thanks, Max.” She bites her lip again. “It was nice to see you, but I have to go. My daughter has a soccer game tonight and I’m running a little behind.”

 

I nod. “It was nice to see you too, Anna.” Once more, a bunch of sappy gratitude swells up on the tip of my tongue. “You were . . .” I crack my knuckles as I try to come up with the right words. “The one thing about Rosewood that didn’t suck.” By the time I spit it out the cashier has abandoned Anna’s order to ring up the next person in line.

 

Anna smiles faintly. “Thanks. I hope everything is okay, Max.”

 

“It will be,” I say. She leaves and I order a trio of tacos and a drink for myself. I stare at the photograph of who I thought was Preston while the food is being prepared. Now what?

 

The cashier calls my order number in a monotone voice. I grab my tray, load up on napkins and soda, and take my food to a booth in the corner. I set the picture on the bench next to me and unwrap the first taco.

 

Could Preston have a twin or brother I don’t know about? It seems far-fetched, the wealthy and powerful DeWitts giving a kid up for adoption, but who knew what politicians were capable of? I finish the first taco in about four bites and crumple the waxy wrapper into a ball. I suck in a long drink of soda. Parvati thought Violet was Preston’s mom. Maybe she was closer than I thought. Maybe DeWitt had an affair and this Adam kid is Preston’s half brother.

 

I bite into my second taco. A couple of diced tomatoes and chunks of flaky cod fall from the shell and land on my paper-lined tray. Tomato juice runs down my chin and I swipe at my mouth with a napkin. Maybe Preston somehow figured all of this out and went looking for his half brother, not knowing that Violet had actually given her child up for adoption. Violet might have gotten upset about being found, about Preston tricking her into meeting him, but why did they both end up dead? I crumple another wrapper and take a gulp of soda.

 

And then it hits me like a twenty-foot wave. Maybe Preston and Violet were the people blackmailing Senator DeWitt! I try to remember if one of the folders on Pres’s hard drive was called RD, or anything else that might stand for the senator, but the two-letter folder names are just a jumble in my head. It makes sense, though. If Pres had video cameras rigged in the spare bedroom, surely he had them in other places around the house too. Who knows what he had caught his father saying, or doing?

 

And what if Adam was in on it, and he’s still alive somewhere? Maybe Langston is looking for him and he thinks Adam will try to contact some of Pres’s friends.

 

Maybe DeWitt bailed me out as bait.

 

My fingers shake a little as I finish the third taco and ball up the wrapper. Wiping my hands hard on a napkin, I stare down at the scuffed tabletop, at my three crumpled paper balls. Preston. Adam. Violet. What if the three of them had threatened to expose DeWitt’s affair and subsequent abandonment of his other son just as DeWitt was about to get appointed to the president’s cabinet? I know how much Preston liked money. I wonder how much he could have gotten for keeping a secret this big. But would he really sabotage his father’s entire political career just to make a quick buck? Maybe he was so angry about being lied to and denied his only family that he wanted everyone to pay for it. Either way, I still couldn’t believe that Senator DeWitt would really kill Preston to shut him up. Politics couldn’t possibly mean more than his own children.

 

Did Preston ever tell you about his childhood? I glance around, suddenly nervous. If DeWitt did kill Preston, that means Langston and Marcus know about it. And that means they’re just keeping tabs on me to make sure I don’t figure it out.

 

 

 

 

 

THIRTY-ONE

 

 

 

IT’S TIME TO DO MORE research. If I head home now I’ll get caught in traffic, so instead I drive through the streets of Rosewood until I find a small brick building with a sign that says LIBRARY out front. It’s mostly empty inside, but a handful of college students and older people look up curiously as I stroll through the metal detector. A librarian with thin lips and a cone-shaped pile of graying blonde hair on top of her head stands as I approach the desk. It’s like she’s already judged me as a troublemaker and is preparing to throw me out by my ear.

 

“Yes?” One word. Curt. Sharp.

 

“I need to, uh, is it possible to use the internet?”

 

Her mouth twists like I just admitted to a hard-core porn addiction. “Do you have a library card?”

 

“No.” I’m about to tell her I don’t live in Los Angeles when I get a better idea. I lower my voice. “I’m from Rosewood Center, you know? The group home.”

 

Her voice loses a bit of edge. “Why do you need the internet?”

 

“Research,” I say. “School project.”

 

“So why not use the internet at Rosewood?”

 

I look down at the floor. “I got in trouble there. For online gaming. I’m not allowed any internet or video games for a week, but I’ve still got to get this paper finished.”

 

“Ah. Well, I suppose I can set you up with a one-day pass,” she says. “But they’ll have to get you a library card if you’re planning to come back.”

 

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