Secrets and Lies(33)

This time, something interesting popped up. It was a site featuring Massachusetts Estate Sales. Sale 3241, the link read. Tenley clicked on the site excitedly. Your valuables, sold with care, the page read at the top. Some of the sales had family names or addresses attached to them, but Sale 3241 was marked as anonymous. The seller’s list of items was impressive, everything from a Persian rug to an extensive collection of Fabergé eggs. There had been some jewelry, too. It had all been taken off the market, but the pictures were still up, and Tenley couldn’t help ogling them. There was one seriously glittery emerald bracelet, along with a pair of sapphire earrings, a matching ring, and the largest diamond pendant Tenley had ever seen. Whomever these had belonged to had some serious money.

Tenley tore her eyes away from the jewelry and kept skimming. Halfway down the page, she spotted it. Steinhard Circus Train, part of a limited edition run. This collector’s item is in moderately good shape, with just one scratch along the back. It comes with its original papers, certifying that it was the 111th train produced in the 250 train run, as corroborated by the number on its back wheel.

Tenley bolted forward so hard her nose almost hit the screen. 111th train! Her eyes flew from the photo on her phone back to the computer screen. The number on the back wheel was the same on both.

She’d actually found it. The very train Caitlin had seen in her kidnapper’s basement was now part of an estate sale online. An active estate sale.

Tenley leaned back, her head spinning. The question was: Why now? The dares start and suddenly the kidnapper is trying to get rid of the one item that Caitlin had remembered from her kidnapping? There were other items in the sale of course, but still… It couldn’t just be a coincidence.

Tenley let out a frustrated groan. It was definitely a connection, but it didn’t bring her any closer to uncovering the darer’s identity. All it told her for sure was that the kidnapper definitely wasn’t related to Joey. Not only had Joey’s train been stolen long before sixth grade, but there was no way anyone in the Bakersfield family had ever owned a massive diamond pendant or Fabergé eggs.

She gazed unseeing at the screen. The estate sale was listed anonymously, but maybe there was a way to dig up some more information… She clicked on the CONTACT US tab. Beneath an e-mail address and fax number was a single line. For questions on listings or how to bid, give us a call! Listed next to it was a phone number. Tenley grabbed her phone and dialed before she could change her mind.

“Massachusetts Estate Sales!” a peppy voice answered.

“Hello.” Tenley lowered her voice in an attempt to sound older. “This is Lady Marie Cornwall.” Inwardly, she blanched. Lady? Where had that come from? She cleared her throat, trying to recover. “I’m very interested in estate”—she quickly clicked back to the page featuring the train—“number 3241.”

“Well, that’s wonderful to hear!” the woman trilled on the other end of the line. “It’s certainly one of our most impressive estates.”

“Certainly,” Tenley agreed. “I would love to place a bid, but first I just need to know a little more about the origin of the estate.”

“Unfortunately, this estate has requested that all background information remain confidential,” the woman said apologetically.

“Of course, of course,” Tenley replied. “It’s just…” She thought quickly. “Being a lady, as I am, it’s essential I be confident that I’m not bringing anything… well, unseemly into my home. In these days of bedbugs and hidden germs, you can never be too careful!”

“I can assure you that with Massachusetts Estate Sales, no such issues will arise.” The woman’s voice had become markedly less peppy. “We take the utmost care in vetting the items on our site.”

“I’m sure you do, but if you could just—”

“I’m sorry, Lady Cornwall,” the woman interrupted. “I really can’t help you any further with this.”

“You can’t even tell me the seller’s town?” Tenley pressed.

Her response came in the form of a resounding click. The woman had hung up. Tenley threw her phone onto the desk and glared down at it. Another dead end.

“Hey, Ten.” Tenley gave a start as Emerson dropped down at the computer next to her. Emerson raised her eyebrows when she noticed the website open on Tenley’s computer. “In the market for some antiques?”

Tenley clicked out of the estate sale and took a quick glance around the room. The freshman girl was gone; they were all alone. “I’m following that train lead,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure if it’s going anywhere, though.” She was about to say more when Emerson suddenly leaned in close.

“I need to talk to you, Ten,” she cut in. Her voice was tight, and there was a cautious look on her face.

Tenley tensed. “About you-know-who?”

“Kind of.” Emerson wrung her hands together. “You know that photo everyone’s been talking about today, of Anaswan’s Purity Club president kissing her gym teacher? Well… I’m the one who e-mailed it.” She picked nervously at her nails. “The darer made me. I—I created an anonymous e-mail address and everything.”

“You sent an e-mail to the entire Anaswan Listserv?” Tenley burst out. Emerson looked alarmed, and she quickly lowered her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought the e-mail address was just a single person,” Emerson said miserably. “I didn’t know it was a Listserv! I didn’t think anyone else would find out.” Emerson buried her head in her hands. “But now two entire schools know and the gym teacher is being fired and the girl is probably being tormented and it’s all my fault.”

“No way,” Tenley said fiercely. “It’s not your fault.” She squirmed angrily in her chair. “This is the darer’s fault. Just like everything else. Seriously, Em.” She grabbed Emerson’s shoulder and tried to shake her out of it. “You can’t let yourself spiral. It’s what the darer wants. Besides, is what you did even that bad? The girl was hooking up with her gym teacher, for god’s sake. She was kind of asking for it. And so was he.”

Emerson jerked her head up sharply. She blinked several times, looking as if she’d just been slapped. “Really,” Tenley promised. “Don’t look so guilty. This is not your fault. Besides, you did make one person’s day.”

“Abby,” Emerson groaned. “I know. She’s been telling anyone who’ll listen that the Purity Club is definitely winning that stupid competition now.” Emerson ran a hand over her glossy black hair. “Just the person I wanted to do a favor for.” She blew out a long breath. “This darer is out of control, Ten. Whoever it is… we have to stop them.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Tenley sighed. “I’m just trying to work out the whole how issue.”

Emerson leaned forward in her chair. “I’ve been thinking a lot about who Tricia might have been cheating on Sean with. And I think Sean could be right. Hunter really does make the most sense.”

“Impossible.” It slipped right out, and Tenley’s eyes widened at her mistake.

Emerson gave her a strange look. “Why?”

“It’s just…” Tenley thought quickly. “I don’t know if you saw the posters, but Hunter and I are finally official.” She was lying through her teeth, but she had no choice. She’d promised Hunter she’d keep his secret. “The other night he, well, he told me he’s felt this way about me since I moved back. He said he hasn’t been able to even think about another girl, let alone hook up with anyone. So there’s no way he was seeing Tricia secretly. It’s got to be someone else.”

Tenley chewed her lower lip, thinking. “What we need is proof of whoever Tricia was seeing behind Sean’s back,” she said. “And I know where we can look for it.” She pulled up Tricia’s Facebook profile on the computer. Emerson leaned in, looking over her shoulder.

The first few pages were filled with messages and photos and quotes, tributes to a lost friend and a Lost Girl. Tenley ignored them, scrolling further back, to before her death. Tricia had posted a whole album of photos from Tenley’s housewarming party, and Tenley skimmed them quickly, refusing to focus on the ones of Caitlin. Nothing in the album stood out; they were just typical high school pictures from a typical high school party.

Her other posts were just as boring: photos of Sean and the cheer squad and a day trip she’d taken to the beach with her parents. Love ya! she’d written to Sean only days before her death, including a stock photo of a kitten sitting on top of a Saint Bernard. “Nothing,” Emerson groaned.

Tenley gritted her teeth, scrolling further back. They looked at page after page, but eventually she had to accept it: They weren’t going to find anything useful. At least not here. In fact, there was only one place she could think of where they might be able to get a glimpse into the real Tricia. “We need to get into Tricia’s bedroom,” she said.