The Lying Game Complete Collection - Sara Shepard Page 0,278

Emma shot up just as the door swung open. Mr. Mercer appeared, a startled look on his face. “Sutton?”

“Uh, hi,” Emma said, running a hand through her hair, her heart beating hard. She stepped in front of the fallen racket.

Mr. Mercer leaned against the doorjamb, one eyebrow raised. “Does Laurel know you’re in here?”

“Um.” Emma’s mind flew in a zillion directions, trying to find an excuse. “I was just looking for a bracelet Laurel borrowed. I wanted to wear it to your party.” She shrugged and lifted the palms of her hands. “But no luck,” she said. “I guess she’s wearing it today.”

Mr. Mercer checked his watch. “Speaking of which, I guess I’d better get ready, too.” He patted the door. “I can’t be late to my own party, huh?”

Emma forced a smile. As soon as Sutton’s father turned away, she kicked the racket back beneath the chair like it was any old tennis racket and not a possible murder weapon. Her stomach churned as images of Laurel bashing in Sutton’s head swirled unbidden in her mind.

And they were swirling in my mind, too. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to call to mind the memory of Laurel pummeling me to death…but there was nothing. Just as I was about to give up, an image flashed in front of me: Laurel and me perched on a rocky cliff overlooking Sabino Canyon—the same cliff I’d taken Thayer to. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I’d asked her. Her light eyes scanned the canyon’s walls, and a sly smile appeared on her face. And then, she said, clear as day, It’s the perfect place to disappear.

15

THE BIRTHDAY SURPRISE

Emma climbed out of Mr. Mercer’s car and watched him hand his keys to a blond valet in a red and gold uniform. “Welcome to Loews Ventana Canyon, Mr. Mercer,” the valet intoned, gesturing to the hotel behind them.

“Thanks.” Mr. Mercer nodded, then strode toward the resort entrance as though he’d been here a hundred times. He probably had—and likely Sutton had, too. But to Emma, this place was all new. Bentleys, high-end Mercedes, and shiny Porsches filled the parking lot. The resort itself was made of clay-colored stone, and it seemed to blend into the cacti-speckled mountain behind it. Two large fire cauldrons flanked the entrance, and Emma could see a sleek marble lobby through the grand double doors. Small-town Girl Goes Five Star, she headlined in her mind. It made the day spa in Nevada where she’d worked as a towel girl look like a ramshackle car wash.

A prickle of a memory edged my vision. I saw myself and my friends taking a yoga class on the grounds. I could tell it was summer, because all of us were sweating and it was only 7 A.M. At the end of the class, when the instructor had everyone lie down and clear their minds, mine had swarmed with whirling thoughts. I couldn’t tell what I’d been worrying about, though. Two-timing Garrett with Thayer? My jealous little sister? Did I know I was weeks—maybe even days—away from my death?

“We’re just getting here now,” Laurel said into her phone as she and Emma entered the lobby. She was on with Mrs. Mercer, who’d come hours earlier to put the finishing touches on things. Grandma had gone with her and was probably rearranging the table linens and silverware.

Laurel slid her phone back into her clutch and gave Emma a sidelong glance. “You don’t seem like you’re in much of a partying mood tonight. Cheer up!”

Emma tried not to flinch. Laurel had arrived back at the house mere minutes after Emma had escaped from her room. Emma had watched her go into her bedroom and stand in the middle of the carpet, one finger tapping her lip. Then she’d wheeled around and stared at Emma, who’d quickly turned and hurried into the bathroom as though she hadn’t been staring. Did Laurel know she’d been in there? Did she know what Emma had found?

Images of the bloody racket filtered through my mind as I stared at Laurel. Did she feel remorse? How could she pretend everything was okay?

Shrugging off Laurel’s comment, Emma followed Mr. Mercer up cobblestone steps and past a crystal fountain filled with orange-and-white goldfish the size of hamsters. She caught her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors just inside the lobby, barely recognizing herself. She’d chosen an emerald green cocktail dress and gold kitten heels from Sutton’s closet. The dress had still had a price tag attached; it