Page 31 of The Debutantes
“Whatever happened to her, I think it has something to do with what happened at the ball. Whoever was in that Jester costume. And I know it’s one of the Dukes, so—”
“You think something happened to her?” Aiden’s stare snaps back up to meet mine.
“You have a lot of irredeemable qualities, Aiden, but a lack of deductive-reasoning skills isn’t one of them. That stunt at the ball was obviously some kind of threat, and now Lily’s missing. What else are we supposed to think?”
He sighs, pulling a hand through his hair. “No, you’re right. I just…”
“What?”
For a moment, he’s quiet, like he’s weighing his words. “You’re good at solving problems,” he says. “Personally, I think it’s one of yourleastirredeemable qualities. A pretty good one, actually.”
There’s a little flicker of something low in my stomach, and Vivian’s stupidPride and Prejudicething worms its way into myhead. I remind myself this is a perfectly reasonable response to being complimented. Scientific, even.
“But?” I press.
“But I don’t think it’s smart to get all mixed up in this. I’m sure the police and Lily’s family are on it, and the LeBlancs…” Aiden looks over his shoulder, like he’s making sure no one else is listening in. “They practically run the whole city, and digging around in their business, even with the best of intentions…” He shakes his head. “All I’m saying is, families like theirs always have skeletons in the closet. Things that tend to come out when something like this happens. And I think it’s dangerous to be the one who finds them.”
He seems genuinely worried for me right now, and even worse, I know he has a point. Aiden and I both come from wealthy families, same as pretty much everyone at Beaumont, but there’s a stark difference between being a Johnson or an Ortiz and being a LeBlanc. They’re the people with politicians and police in their pockets, whose daughters are Queens instead of Maids—they’re royalty, and we’re just lucky enough to be in their court.
Still, I can’t help hearing echoes of Marty in Aiden’s words.
“So you think we should do nothing,” I say. “Just sit back and hope they find her.”
“No, I—” He frowns, but then his gaze softens again. “I just… I think you should be careful, Piper.”
For half a second, there’s that stupid warm feeling again, but it’s quickly hammered down by annoyance. He doesn’t want me to be careful because he’s worried about me—it’s because he thinks I can’t figure this out on my own. Because he thinks it’s not my business.
“Sure,” I say. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Wait, I didn’t mean—”
“Do you have any helpful intel about last night or not?”
Aiden watches me for a second. Then he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know anything else. I wish I did.”
“Fine,” I tell him. “Thanks anyway, I guess.”
I turn around and head back into the living room. So Aiden was a bust. I should have expected that. But at least I can still grill Milford.
Only, finding him might be a challenge, too. Our house is packed with kids from the ball and older Deus members, everyone decked out in their festive-casual finery. I scan the room for everyone my age, all clustered with drinks, bent over their phones—probably planning their next move, because this party is so obviously only a pregame for them, a way to get plastered for free before heading out to one of the grimy college bars near Tulane. One thing I’ll never understand: the desire to be anywhere with a sticky floor on purpose.
I spot April in the corner, watching the party with an uncomfortable look on her face. I wonder if I should go check in with her, but then someone tugs on my arm. Jason. I flinch.
“What?” I snap.
“This is Wyatt’s,” he says, holding out a phone.
I take it, and the screen lights up with his background photo: him and Lily, his arms wrapped around her after one of her soccer games.
“He left it by the beer,” Jason adds, lifting his own fresh bottle in explanation. “I’d give it back to him myself, but he’s in a hell of a mood. Fair warning.”
Before I can ask whatthatmeans, Jason is lumbering away.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. The last thing I need tonight is Wyatt on his worst behavior.
I scan the room but don’t see him, so I spin around and march down the hall. I’m just passing the staircase when I get an idea. Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, I type our birthday into the passcode keypad.
The phone unlocks.
