“The secret diary that Olivia Langstrom just confirmed Lindy kept after her mother burned her first one.”
“The one with the picture of Mrs. Frauke screwing Mr. Bonner.” He smirked.
“William, this is serious.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at her shoulder.
She snapped her fingers. “Dammit, I don’t have time to play twenty questions. You said you were bed bunnies with Lindy for a year, a totally secret relationship that no one knew about, not even me, and you didn’t ever see her write in a book? She was that discreet?”
William sighed and his shoulders sagged. “She might have had something, but I have no idea where it is. She didn’t share it with me.”
“But you’ve seen it.”
“A couple of times I saw her writing in a black leather book. In her clubhouse. For all I know, it’s still there.”
Or the killer took it. Or the police have it. Why wasn’t it part of the evidence?
“I need to find it.”
“After thirteen years?”
“It has to be somewhere.”
“Maybe her father has it.”
“He doesn’t.”
William blanched. “You talked to Mr. Ames?”
“Yes. And he was far more cordial than anyone else.”
William seemed stunned. “But you sided with Kevin.”
“He, too, has his doubts.”
“He’s old—”
“Oh, jeez, William. He’s your father’s age. And for the record, Kevin lied about his alibi.”
“We all know that. He couldn’t have been home if he killed Lindy.”
“He was with Olivia.”
The information shocked her cousin. “Olivia Langstrom?”
“Yes. She confirmed it. So get off your high horse and either help me, or stay out of my way. Because I’m not leaving town until I find out who killed Lindy.”
*
Max was even later than twelve thirty when she arrived at Atherton Prep. She quickly slipped out of her heels and into sneakers so she could comfortably walk the grounds.
Jasper was talking to the headmaster, Greer Bascomb, who hadn’t seemed to age since Max graduated thirteen years ago. He’d looked forty-something then, he looked forty-something now. She knew, however, that he was fifty-eight. Bascomb had been the headmaster of Atherton Prep for nearly twenty years. They were having a big fund-raising gala in his honor next month to celebrate this milestone. Fortunately, Max wouldn’t still be in town. Ever since Lindy had told her that his secretary gave him head under his desk, when she saw the diminutive man she wanted to laugh.
With Jasper and Bascomb was also a woman who looked familiar, but Max couldn’t place her.
“Maxine Revere,” Bascomb said and extended his hand. “Good to see you again.”
She shook his hand, then turned to the woman next to him. She wore little makeup, and her light brown hair was cut in a stylish bob. “Hello, Maxine Revere—did we go to school together?”
The woman seemed surprised that she recognized her. “Yes, I’m Faith Voss, I graduated the year after you.”
“Volleyball—I should have remembered.”
She laughed lightly. “I was a benchwarmer most of the time I played.”
Voss—she had a sister, too, who’d graduated the year before Max. Carrie. She had a far wilder reputation than her sister. Faith had always been smart and sweet, from what Max remembered.
“Do you work for Jasper?”
“I’m the admissions director for ACP.”
Max couldn’t imagine working at her alma mater. She hadn’t liked high school much.
“What’s Carrie up to these days? She went to Berkeley, right?”
“Good memory. She dropped out and moved to Europe.” A hint of sadness clouded her expression.
“Carrie always was spontaneous.”
Bascomb said to Max, “We are so fortunate that your uncle, Archer Sterling, and Jasper have given so much to Atherton Prep. We were in dire need of a new gym, and the Sterling Pierce Sports Center is the perfect solution.”
That was his subtle way of telling her she hadn’t given to her alma mater.
“I agree,” she said.
“You should visit more often,” Bascomb said. “Career Day in October, perhaps. Faith, make a note.”
Faith wrote quickly in her notepad, the charms on her bracelet clinking. Admissions director and personal secretary, it seemed. Max handed Faith her business card. To Bascomb, she said, “You could always invite me to keynote graduation.”
“I, um, of course, I’ll bring that up to the board, but as you know, it’s both a board and student decision on which alumnus is asked to give the commencement speech.”
He was talking so fast Max wanted to laugh, again, at the weasel. He was such a glad-hander it made her cringe.
“That’s right—my uncle Brooks is on the board. I guess I won’t expect an invitation anytime soon.” She winked at Jasper, who looked bemused at the conversation.
Bascomb couldn’t leave fast enough. He thanked Jasper for talking to the donors, then made a lame excuse and walked back to the main campus with Faith on his heels. She glanced back at Max and rolled her eyes. Max laughed.
“I hope Faith gets paid well to work for that sycophant jackass,” she muttered.
Jasper laughed. “He wasn’t here when I was in school, but his credentials are impeccable.”
“I’m sure they are. For an administrator and fund-raiser, he’s done well for the school, so I have no complaints there.”
“But?”
“But nothing. Let’s go for a walk.”
Jasper waved over a short, burly man in a flannel shirt and faded jeans. He introduced her to Brian Robeaux. Brian shook her hand firmly. He said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to look into my nephew’s murder. I haven’t slept well since it happened. I knew I should have come here with him that night.”