“Ravi isn’t gay,” Dan said. “I caught him checking out my boobs.”
“Well, Bradley reckons he is, and his gaydar’s on point. And everyone checks out your tits, honey. I check out your tits. They’re great tits.”
“Yours aren’t bad either, babe. I got a whole bunch of new underwear while I was in London. From Black Lily—you know, the place Max’s fiancée owns? Have you been there? I bought one corset, and when Ethan saw it, he ordered me half of the store.”
“I might have an outfit or two from there. But not corsets. How do you breathe in those things?”
Uh-oh. I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and hurriedly backed up a few steps.
“Ready to go?”
We had casual Alaric today. Well-worn jeans and a T-shirt since he’d be staying at the house for a while. I liked him in the sports coat, but this new look wasn’t bad either. Don’t think of those arms around you, Beth.
“Uh, almost. Do you want coffee? Or breakfast?”
“Wouldn’t say no.”
It was eight thirty when I arrived at Lone Oak Farm, just in time for a second breakfast courtesy of Stéphane. I’d happily muck out every day in return for Belgian waffles with whipped cream and maple syrup.
“Ready to get started?” Harriet asked after we’d finished our coffee. “Rodrigo’s gonna feed the cows and fix some broken fencing while we do the horses in the barn.”
“Why not?”
Yes, I liked my new job. And I also liked Harriet. She handled the horses firmly but kindly—exactly what they needed—and she was happy to chat too. Although inevitably, after we’d told our war stories and compared scars, talk turned back to the case.
“So you really think Kyla Devane planted that awful video?” she asked.
“Not personally, but Emmy thinks it was somebody working for her. Or maybe he’s more than an employee? One of the witnesses thinks they crossed that line, although Eric Ridley’s almost old enough to be Kyla’s father.”
“Kyla and an older man? That doesn’t surprise me one bit. She was failing math in high school until she screwed the math teacher. Ditto for chemistry.”
I went into a coughing fit.
“You okay?”
“Just swallowed a hayseed or something.” Or something. “What, she was sleeping with both of them?”
“Yah-huh. What were they gonna do? Complain to the principal?”
I guess not. “Did you ever hang out with her?”
“No way. She was two years ahead of me, and I avoided her like the plague. All of my friends did too. Kyla Devane’s a nasty piece of work, and she always has been. If she gets elected, it won’t be thanks to anyone in this town. And you know what? She probably will get elected. Nobody’s ever made her face the consequences of her actions. Never. She’s brazen, but she’s careful, and on the rare occasions she does get caught, she’ll throw anyone under the bus to escape punishment.”
“What else has she done?”
“When she was sixteen, she crashed her mom’s car into Bubba Morten’s pickup before she got her driver’s licence. Daddy’s little angel convinced her boyfriend to take the rap, except Jarrod had been drinking beer in the Tumbleweed Tavern all night, so he got arrested for DUI and locked up for six weeks while Kyla got a neck brace she didn’t need and a mailbox full of sympathy cards.”
“Didn’t he tell the truth after?”
“Sure he did, when he realised he was going to jail. But Kyla sobbed a lot and Mr. Devane’s lawyer painted Jarrod as a guilty man out to evade responsibility for his mistakes. Ironic, huh?”
“How do you know Jarrod was telling the truth?”
“Because one of my friends saw Kyla get out of the driver’s seat.”
“Did your friend tell the police?”
“No, because Jarrod was a jerk, and she didn’t want to face the wrath of Kyla either. Cross her and you’ll pay. Like the time Piper Simms got voted homecoming queen and Kyla was only a princess.”
Dare I ask? “What happened to Piper?”
“Who knows? She vanished a week before the parade. That was thirteen years ago, and nobody’s seen her since.”
“Did the police look?”
“Officially, the sheriff’s department searched, but guess who was the biggest donor to Sheriff Tucker’s re-election campaign?”
“Was their surname Devane?”
“Good guess. Bribery makes the world go round. Anyhow, Kyla pretended to be really cut up about Piper’s disappearance. They were supposedly best friends before the homecoming quarrel, but did she forgo the crown when she ‘inherited’ it? No way. And a month later, a note arrived from Piper, saying she’d moved to LA to pursue a singing career and she was having a great time.”
“Did anyone compare the handwriting?”
“I heard it was typed.”
“Wow. That’s crazy.”
“Yup. So you see, the stunt with my father was nothing for Kyla. She’s had years of practice. I only hope your friends know what they’re doing.”
“They do,” I assured Harriet, although I wasn’t totally sure about that. The team of Emmy and Alaric had worked well against a muscle-bound psycho in London, but Kyla Devane was a whole other level of cunning. Now that I knew a little more about her past, I needed to warn Alaric what he was dealing with. “What do you think happened to Piper?”
“I have no idea, but I don’t think she’s belting out show tunes in musical theatre.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
When Harriet trundled off to empty her wheelbarrow, I tried phoning Alaric, but my call went straight to voicemail. Rather than leaving a long, rambling message, I sent him a text.
Me: Would you mind calling when you have a moment?
Could eighteen-year-old Kyla really have been involved in her friend’s disappearance? For a homecoming crown? It seemed somewhat drastic, but then again, she might well have bribed a sick senator with an expensive stolen painting and then tried to destroy a rival with underage porn. Perhaps it was all in a day’s work for everyone’s favourite political candidate?
“Enough about Kyla,” Harriet announced. “I need to check on Daddy, but do you want to try barrel racing
