I spun back around automatically. "It's funny that you're calling them liars. Are you ready to tell me exactly what happened between you and Bethany?"

Liam's entire face fell. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb. I'm not an idiot, Liam. You can't keep pretending that there's not something going on between you guys."

"It's not what you think." His eyes darted toward the door as though he was afraid she'd hear or something.

"Well, then, tell me, Liam. What happened?"

When it was obvious he wasn't going to answer me, I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me further into the hall. He wasn't holding me that hard, but when I wasn't able to free myself, I began to panic.

"What are you doing? Let me go!" I didn't realize I had shouted the words until the door to the cla.s.sroom swung open and Alistair Reynolds came barreling out.

"Dude, lay off!" He pried Liam's hand off my arm and threw it down. "What's your problem?"

"Kate, I didn't mean..." Liam began, but Alistair's arm was already thrown around my shoulder, my head pulled close to his chest.

"Just leave me alone." Even as I said the words, I wanted to take them back.

Before Alistair guided me back into the safety of the cla.s.sroom, I couldn't resist one last long, hard look at Liam. He was still gorgeous. No denying that. His longish hair was messy in a way that somehow ended up looking stylish. His khaki pants fit low on his hips, and he'd layered another one of his vintage tees beneath the required white-collared shirt. The thin material of the b.u.t.ton-down gave way to words underneath. This one looked like it might be an old-school-band T-shirt.

And then it hit me.

Naomi had seen someone running from the chapel with longish hair and a Rolling Stones T-shirt.

"Come on, Kate. Let's get back inside," Alistair said.

"You go first," I said, distracted, waiting for the door to close behind him. I pointed at Liam's chest. "Is that...a Rolling Stones T-shirt?"

Liam looked at me like I was a little crazy. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Turn around," I practically shouted.

Sure enough, when he spun around, a faint pair of lips with a tongue hanging out could be seen through the white.

Without another word, I lunged for the door of the cla.s.sroom and yanked it open, leaving Liam in the hallway staring after me. Liam was the missing piece of the puzzle. He was the one Naomi had seen running through the woods that night.

Chapter 36.

As soon as I was free from the h.e.l.l that was centerpiece planning, I sprinted through the empty halls to Station 3, marveling at how the station inscriptions shifted based on the kind of day you were having. Faber est suae quisque fortunae. "Every man is the artisan of his own fortune." Last time it had been doughnuts; today it was petty theft. Lucky for me, it was Tuesday, which meant Seth had afternoon duty at the office. My fortunes were looking up.

When I arrived at the office and peered through the gla.s.s walls, I found just who I was looking for. His red curls sprung out from behind a filing cabinet.

"Hey, Seth," I said, poking my head into the office.

He popped up like a little groundhog and smiled. If nothing else, Seth was always happy to see me. With everything that'd been going on in my life, I was grateful for that.

"What's up?" he asked in a voice that was about ten decibels too loud for my taste. Mrs. Newbury shot us a disapproving look, so I grabbed Seth's arm and yanked him into the hall. I scanned the hallway to see if any teachers were within earshot. The coast was clear.

"Can you pull a few files for me?" I asked quietly.

"You mean, like, student files?" he said, clearly shocked by the idea.

"Yeah, I need to know the deal with Liam, Bethany, and Taylor. I got another email from Grace, and she mentioned Liam's name. And something tells me that if there's a secret society at Pemberly Brown, Bethany and Taylor are in on it."

"Whoa, wait a second. You've had an actual conversation with Taylor Wright?"

I shook my head, annoyed. "Um, not exactly, but I had to join Concilium. It's a long story. But I need the files. Can you help?"

"Okay, okay. Sorry." Seth's eyes darted around skittishly. "I don't know...if we got caught..." Seth trailed off.

"Look, Seth, you spend all your time reading those crazy books about unsolved mysteries and conspiracies, and you're finally in a position to help me solve what might be an actual murder. But we can't do anything unless you're willing to take some risks."

I needed to know what had really happened between the two of them, but more than that, I needed to know exactly what Liam was capable of. If he really was some kind of pyro, maybe he had somehow played a role in what happened to Grace.

"Fine. I think I can do it. Mrs. Newbury always leaves early on Tuesdays for her bunco game."

"Great. I'll save you a seat on the late bus," I said, already starting to walk away. I wanted to get out of there before he changed his mind.

"Oh, and Seth." I turned back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you!"

He turned bright red, and a huge smile practically split his face in half.

a a a True to my word, I sat on the bus waiting for Seth. I had the entire bus to myself until Bradley and Alistair decided to climb on, draping their arms over the seat in front of me.

"Oh, hey, Kate. I didn't know you were on this bus." Alistair smiled lazily.

"Um, yeah. Most days, actually. I didn't know you guys even knew buses existed," I shot back. What the h.e.l.l were they doing here? Seth was supposed to be here with the files any minute, and I didn't have time to deal with these jackholes.

"Yeah, we're not exactly bus people, but we were pa.s.sing by and saw you sitting all by yourself and wanted to say hi." Bradley's smile was so bright, I had to look away.

There was a knock on the window next to the boys, and we all looked down to see Porter waiting outside, guitar and all.

"What're you doing, Al? Mom said you have to take me to guitar practice today. I'm not walking again," he called through the open window. I wasn't sure if it was the pathetic note in his voice or the news that Porter actually took lessons and was still that abysmal at guitar, but I found myself laughing.

"Well, duty calls." Alistair shrugged and stood up.

Bradley hung behind for a second, and his almost black eyes pierced mine. "Take care of yourself, Kate." What the h.e.l.l was that supposed to mean?

I nodded and watched him jog off the bus and over to Alistair and Porter waiting outside. Alistair and Bradley shoved at Porter as they walked, and I heard Alistair make some snide comment about Seth's rolling backpack when he crossed their path.

Seth's geriatric bag caught along the edges of the seats as he pulled it down the aisle. It made my heart hurt a little that he seemed so unfazed by the bullying outside, but I was soon distracted by the three fat files he delicately lifted from his bag as he sat down.

"I got them," Seth said, looking around the bus like he was an undercover agent of some sort. "Not sure what you're looking for, but whatever it is, it's probably in here."

We started sifting through the files and found all sorts of interesting information.

Apparently, Taylor's father had donated a huge chunk of change to the school right before she was accepted. Guess she didn't have to fill out that tedious application to get into PB like the rest of us.

As interesting as it was to learn about Taylor behind the scenes, the information wasn't exactly what I was looking for. I thumbed through the pages in search of her guidance records. I knew from experience that the guidance counselors were forced to doc.u.ment every student visit by completing a form.

Taylor had a huge stack of guidance forms. Most of them were boring requests for more honors cla.s.ses and petty complaints about teachers or students who had dared to defy Pemberly Brown's reigning queen bee.

But one form had been flagged with a sticky note that read, "Urgent." The entire page was filled with notes, and the counselor had stamped CONFIDENTIAL in huge, red block letters at the top of the sheet.

Taylor suffering from severe depression. Doctor has prescribed Zoloft to alleviate symptoms.

Taylor depressed? I felt like this must have gotten stuck in the wrong file. It was dated last November, so apparently she'd spent the last year stuffed with antidepressants too. This shouldn't have made me happy, but it sort of did. I wondered if she went to Dr. P. I'd love to see the look on her face if I caught her in the waiting room.

Bethany's file was completely useless. No trips to the guidance counselor, just a bunch of demerits for getting into fights throughout lower school. You'd think someone would have gotten this girl into anger-management counseling at some point.

But Liam's file was just as fat as Taylor's, although for a completely different reason. His guidance forms told a stereotypical bad-boy-with-issues story. One session from his middle-school years outlined feelings of loneliness after moving from school to school after his mom died. Detentions, suspensions, and one expulsion riddled the other forms, while another counselor marked notes about Liam's struggle to transition from public to private school.

I felt a twinge of guilt looking through all of his confidential information, but I reminded myself I was doing this for Grace. I flipped through every form in the file, but there was nothing about a fire. Was it just another rumor?

"I thought you said Liam had some kind of history with fire," I hissed at Seth.

"He did. The form should be in the back. Here, let me see."

Seth grabbed the folder from my hands as we rounded a corner.

"All right, it's got to be in here somewhere," Seth whispered. "But I don't see it. I know it was in here at the beginning of last year. I saw it when I was transferring files after the office was remodeled." He sounded confused.

"Are you sure? Like, really sure? Because if he didn't really do it..."

"Wait. What's this one say?" Seth asked and picked up another form flagged with a sticky note. The bus. .h.i.t a b.u.mp, and the file's contents spread out on his lap. His forehead wrinkled as he read. "Something about community service."

"That could be for any of these little incidents. What does it say?"

"Replanting trees...picking up garbage...rebuilding a garage..."

I was starting to get bus sick reading over Seth's shoulder. I looked out the window to see how much longer we had and then glanced back at Seth. He was staring at the file, deep in thought. "They give an address. Maybe if we look it up we'll be able to find more info."

"Fine. I'll check it out tonight and see what else I can find."

The bus jerked to a stop, and our driver pulled the door open. I shoved the papers back into Liam's file and, with a heavy heart, stepped down into the fresh air.

The street was blanketed in red, yellow, and orange leaves that crunched beneath my feet as I headed home. Only yesterday, the leaves had been arranged neatly on branches, vibrant against the blue backdrop of the sky. Now they had all come tumbling down, edges curled, color faded, making the world look a whole lot less beautiful.

I regretted ever getting involved with Liam, regretted ever trusting him, letting him in, liking him. I used my finger to catch the tears before they fell, wiping them across my skirt.

Whoever said "The truth hurts" wasn't kidding.

Chapter 37.

Google is a beautiful thing. When I plugged in the address, "2547 Longview Drive, New Albany, OH," all sorts of things popped up. First off, I could actually see the property, a gorgeous home set on a stately lawn (thank you, Google Earth), and one hit was a helpful news article-a blurb from the local newspaper's police blotter.

This particular blurb referenced the address in Liam's file. Apparently a minor had been charged with arson. A shed had burned down and a neighboring house damaged.

Liam.

It had to have been him, and I had to find out exactly what had happened that night. I spent the entire night planning my attack. I couldn't avoid him anymore. I'd have to pretend like everything was fine in order to infiltrate. Yes, I said "infiltrate." I was taking this investigation to a whole new level.

It also occurred to me that I was starting to sound like a spy from one of Seth's crazy-a.s.s conspiracy theories. Obviously my new sidekick was wearing off on me.

Mental note: no matter how tempting it may seem, do not start hanging out in tree houses and reading books about how the moon landing took place in some studio on Hollywood Boulevard as opposed to the actual moon. The last thing I needed was more distractions.

a a a I sat in the office sending as many brain waves as I could muster toward Mrs. Newbury. Bunco, bunco, bunco. Seth and I needed her to get the h.e.l.l out of there so we could effectively launch Investigation Firestarter. Yes, that's a code name, and no, it definitely wasn't my idea.

Finally Mrs. Newbury leaned under the desk to grab her purse. "That about does it." She swung the bag over her shoulder. "I leave the office in good hands." She ruffled Seth's red curls, and I felt a little guilty about what we were going to do next.

We gave Mrs. Newbury exactly seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds to leave the building. A habitual woman, she stopped to visit with the same three people: Mrs. Laney in guidance; Mr. Stewart, one of the youngest male faculty members, who we were fairly sure she had a tiny crush on; and Bob, the nicest custodian on staff. If my calculations were correct, Liam would hold the door for Mrs. Newbury after he finished hanging out with his friends in the courtyard on his way in to grab books from his locker.

"Okay," I said, staring at the clock on my cell phone. "Now!"

Seth picked up the phone receiver and pressed the "All School Page" b.u.t.ton. He lowered his voice approximately three octaves and said, "Liam Gilmour to the main office. Liam Gilmour to the main office." He sounded like a serial killer.

"It'll be a miracle if Liam or any remaining teachers in the building don't call the police after that page." I couldn't help myself.

"I didn't want him to recognize my voice," Seth replied, hurt.

I decided not to mention that Liam wouldn't have been able to pick his face out of a lineup, let alone his voice. "Okay, so you have your a.s.signment. Hunter-green Jeep, zip windows, lower-left area of parking lot, license plate number EIO315."

"On it!" Seth scurried out of the office in the direction of the parking lot, and I waited to see whether Liam would actually show up after that bomb threat of a page to the office.

Sure enough, about four minutes after Seth made his exit, Liam casually pulled open the gla.s.s doors. When he saw me, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Did you hear someone page me?" He set his book bag down inside the office. "I thought maybe Mrs. Newbury needed help. It sounded like an ax murderer."

"Oh...um...yeah, it was just a temp that they hired for after school, but...um...he had to step out." Wow. This was going well.

"So you've decided to talk to me again? I've tried calling and texting every day and nothing, but now you're waiting for me in the office?"