brought them home only once a year, for Christmas and New Year’s. Those were the things Tracy really wanted—the diamond necklace with the big emerald drop, which had a bracelet and earrings to go with it. And there was a sapphire tiara. The stones had been specially chosen to match the color of her grandmother’s eyes. Tracy knew they would match her own eyes as well.
But still, there were some nice things in the jewelry box, and she was having a hard time trying to decide which ones to take. She had to leave a lot of it so no one would notice that some of it was gone, and she had to leave some of the best stuff, too.
Except that maybe she didn’t.
A lot of the stuff in the box that she really liked, she couldn’t remember her grandmother ever even wearing, so there was a good chance that her father wouldn’t remember it either.
And some of the things in the box had been her mother’s. She’d leave those—surely her father would give her mother’s jewelry to Carolyn.
She picked up a large jade pendant, carved so that it had a different pattern on each side, and held it up to her neck. The chain was a little too long, but that didn’t matter. The jade itself, she decided, was a perfect color for her—a very pale pink, and, when she held it up to the light, so transparent that the two patterns on either face combined to form yet a third. She opened her own jewelry box, lifted out the tray, and slipped the pendant into the tiny hidden compartment under what looked like the bottom of the case.
Suddenly there was a soft tapping at her door—two knocks, followed by a short silence, and then a third. It was the code she’d given Beth, telling her it would be a secret between them. And Beth, as Tracy had hoped, was too stupid to realize that all it did was give Tracy a chance to hide things before she let Beth into her room.
The whole thing her father had demanded had, in fact, been a lot easier than Tracy had thought it would be. It was almost like a game, and the object was to find out just how stupid Beth and Carolyn really were.
And with Beth, to find out how crazy she really was, so her father would finally have to send her away.
So far, it looked like they were even dumber than Tracy had thought, though she still hadn’t figured out how to get Beth talking about Amy again.
Beth, she’d decided, was really pathetic. When she’d opened the suitcase Beth had brought with her, it had been all she could do to keep from giggling out loud at the junk that was inside. It was nothing but faded jeans, and a bunch of blouses and dresses that had to have come from Penney’s. But she’d oohed and aahed and begged Beth to loan her some of the junk sometime, and Beth had fallen for it.
And then, this morning, Tracy had dug around in her closet until she’d found a dress she hadn’t worn for two years but hadn’t bothered to throw away yet, and offered it to Beth to wear to the funerals. The dress had looked awful on her, as Tracy had known it would, but Beth hadn’t noticed, and neither had her mother.
Instead, they’d both thanked her, as though she’d done something nice.
Now, as the knock at the door was repeated, Tracy shut her grandmother’s jewelry box, and hurriedly shoved it up on the closet shelf before unlocking the door and opening it. Beth stood in the corridor, her eyes wide. Her face was the color of putty. The dress Tracy had loaned her was on a hanger that Beth held high enough so the hem wouldn’t touch the floor.
“I … I got a spot on it,” Beth whispered, looking to Tracy like a frightened rabbit. “I’m sorry—I don’t know what happened.”
Tracy composed her features into an expression of what she hoped was generous forgiveness. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’m sure it won’t cost much to have it cleaned.” She saw no point in telling Beth she was going to throw the dress away anyhow. “Come on in.”
She opened the door wider, and Beth came into the could hardly wait to call Alison Babcock and tell her how Beth treated the old rag like it was a Halston gown.