Page 63 of The Debutantes
“It didn’t get much attention because two days later, that same employee retracted her statements. There weren’t any news items about it after that, but I found her on LinkedIn. She was working at a new firm in Florida. I messaged her, pretending to want advice on applying to her alma mater, and we setup a call. When I asked her about the Pierrot, she shut down. Told me never to contact her again. She seemed terrified.”
“You think they ran her out of town,” I realize.
“I don’t know if they paid her off or just threatened her badly enough to make her leave, but… yeah, I do. And it’s not the first time they’ve done it. I found two other stories almost exactly like this one within the past ten years. An allegation gets made about a prominent Deus member, it gets dropped, and the person who made it leaves town. And it’s not just that. Lawsuits against members’ companies disappearing, their DUIs getting reduced to smaller charges or going away completely… the past three Louisiana congressmen elected have been pictured at balls or other Krewe events, chumming it up with active Deus members.”
I shake my head, like that might make it stop spinning, even though some part of me already knew from the moment I saw that place: they’re covering up each other’s crimes. Exchanging favors. Maybe even rigging elections.
“And now,” Aiden says, gesturing at the invitation, “they’re ‘welcoming their newest brothers.’ It’s like a cult. They’re building their ranks. Indoctrinating people.”
“I know,” I say. “I’ve been.”
“What?”
The rest of it rushes out of me before I can stop myself. “They have this club in the Quarter. They all meet there and wear masks and bring these young women and—” I shut my eyes for a second, commanding myself to keep it together. “We think they might have something to do with Lily’s disappearance.”
“Piper…” His face is so full of concern that some instinct in me wants to deny it, if only to make him stop looking at me like that. “How did you end up there? And who’s ‘we’?”
“Me, April, and Vivian. We’ve been investigating ever since Lily went missing. We sort of blackmailed Milford into taking us to the Pierrot. And…”
I hesitate. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of something, like if I finally accept April’s theory, say it out loud, it will make it true. And I still don’t know if I can trust him.
But right now, who else do I have?
I take a breath and pray I can rely on the sanctity of the handshake.
“We think someone at the Pierrot might have killed Margot Landry. And Lily might have known about it.”
I watch as Aiden takes it in, my hands shaky with adrenaline—not just because I said it out loud. But because now that I have, I realize I might really believe it.
“Shit,” he says finally. “So that stunt at the ball, with the projections of Margot…”
“We think it’s all connected. The Pierrot is the reason Lily’s missing.”
“Like how they forced those other women to leave town,” Aiden says. “Or…”
I can feel us both reaching the same conclusion. If Aiden’s suspicions are right, then this wouldn’t be the first time the Pierrot has run someone out of the city for knowing too much. But there’s more than one way to make a girl disappear. And if the Pierrot is truly capable of murder…
With a sudden jolt, I realize just how badly I screwed up by telling April and Vivian we should stop investigating. Because Lily knew exactly what the Pierrot was doing. She knew what they did to Margot, and she was planning to tell us that morning at the Den. But if the Pierrot found out, they would have done anything to keep her quiet. Even if, I realize, that meantwithdrawing money from her account, making it look like she ran away.
Even if it meant killing another Queen.
April was right. I’ve been wanting so badly for everything to be fine that I practically covered my eyes as the evidence piled up in front of me. But now?
Now I’m making up for lost time.
“Come on.” I push out of my chair and start to shove my things into my bag. “We have to find April and Vivian.”
“We?”
I stop. This time, I can’t fight the flush as I look back at him, his warm eyes and the little smirk on his face. “Don’t feel too proud of yourself.”
He smiles wider. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
And then his smile fades. The look in his eyes is dead serious.
“What?”
“If there was something else,” he says carefully, “something that would hurt you… would you want to know?”
