Page 11 of Privilege


  But you don't care, Ariana thought. Because she doesn't care about you.Once the dress was unzipped, Ariana stepped back. Normally Noelle and Ariana would have lifted Kiran up so that Taylor could reach in and yank the dress to the floor, but this time Ariana had no help. She decided to just leave it. If Briana Leigh got uncomfortable enough, she would wriggle out of the thing herself.

  "Okay. Time for bed!" Ariana said in a bright voice.

  Briana Leigh crashed back onto the bed and rolled over. Face to the comforter, she half-crawled, half-slithered up the bed until her head was in the vicinity of the pillows. Ariana unfolded the cashmere throw at the foot of the bed and placed it over Briana Leigh.

  "Thanks," Briana Leigh said, pulling the blanket up under her chin as she curled into a fetal position. "You're a good friend."

  Ariana's mouth twitched into a smile.

  "You're not going to leave me, are you?" Briana Leigh asked.

  Ariana's chest welled with pride. She had already done it. Already made herself indispensable to Briana Leigh. But the pride was unexpectedly tinged with guilt. She realized with a start that she felt sorry for the girl. Clearly Briana Leigh had her lonely, vulnerable side. She

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  was starting to depend on Emma Walsh, and all Emma Walsh was going to do was use her and bail.

  "No. I'm not going to leave you," Ariana lied, a lump forming in her throat.

  "Good." Briana Leigh closed her eyes. "I love you, Kaitlynn." Ariana froze, hovering over Briana Leigh's bed. Her blood hardened in her veins, the guilt, pity, and sorrow instantly obliterated. For a moment she had forgotten why she was here--what Briana Leigh had done. Had been lulled by her loneliness. It must have been all the alcohol. Now, feeling suddenly sober as she stared down at Kaitlynn's mortal enemy, she could have torn her own hair out in penance for that lapse.

  I love you? I love you? Ariana thought of her friend curled up on her bed in the Brenda T. while this murderous bitch cuddled into her imported Italian comforter in her multimillion-dollar compound. If Briana Leigh had really loved Kaitlynn, then what she had done to her was all the more evil. Trembling, Ariana's fingers slowly curled in. For the first time since she had broken free, she saw red.

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  DEAR KAITLYNN

  Ariana took a step back from the bed and breathed.

  In, one... two... three...Out, one... two... three...

  In, one... two... three...

  Out, one... two... three...

  It took several moments for her to come back to herself. For her pulse to stop rushing in her ears. She breathed in one more time, and the room snapped back into focus.

  She could not harm Briana Leigh. That was not what this was about. As much as it pained her to think of it in these terms, she--and Kaitlynn--needed the girl.

  But she would have given anything to be able to teach the girl a lesson. Maybe someday... Maybe someday she would have the chance. But not now. Not today.

  Slowly, Ariana stepped away from the snoring heiress and made

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  her way out of the room. As soon as the door was closed behind her, Ariana felt more in control. She had come so close to the edge. Too close. She had promised herself a new start. There was no way she was going to get that new start if she let herself cross over to the bad place.

  The adrenaline rush had one benefit, however. It had cleared her mind of any residual effects from the alcohol. Ariana was fully awake and alert and saw everything around her with crisp clarity. Briana Leigh was completely passed out. This was her chance.

  Ariana took off her shoes and jogged downstairs, the Southwestern-style tile floor frigid under her bare feet. The house was as still as a graveyard as she raced into the long hallway off the great room at the center of the Covington home. Briana Leigh hadn't given Ariana the full tour, so she had to stop to open each of the curved wooden doors along the way. Ariana found a pair of guest rooms, a gym, and what appeared to be some kind of indoor Zen garden. Here Ariana paused, taking in the lush greenery, the burbling waterfall and pond, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Buddha sitting at the center of the room. It was all so soothing. She could picture Kaitlynn sitting here for hours. Maybe she would build a sanctuary like this in her new mansion. The one she planned to build for herself and Kaitlynn with Briana Leigh's money.

  With a smile, she closed the door to the garden and continued the search. Finally, toward the end of the hall, she found a room that seemed promising. It was an office of some kind, outfitted with dark brown leather furniture and animal pelts and woven Native American tapestries, like an upscale western lodge. The desk in front of the picture

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  window was huge and imposing, made out of roughly hewn oak. It was a man's desk. Briana Leigh's father's desk.

  For a moment, Ariana paused in the center of the bearskin rug, feeling the ghost of Briana Leigh's father in the very walls around her. She wondered what he would think of her plan. Had he forgiven his daughter for murdering him in cold blood, or would he want to see the traitor get what was coming to her?

  Ariana felt a thrill run up her spine, and somehow knew it was the latter. She opened the file cabinets and dug through the folders, giving herself several stinging paper cuts as she hungrily searched the pages and pages of documents, all having to do with Mr. Covington's many business deals. His money may have come from old oil, but he had his hands in a number of different flourishing businesses. After perusing all six drawers' worth of boring tax documents Ariana had not found what she was looking for.

  She moved to Mr. Covington's desk. Nothing in the top drawer but several gold pens. The second drawer was full of blank white printer paper. Ariana was about to slam it shut when something out of place caught her eye. The corner of a piece of parchment paper, ivory, shoved into the center of the pile. Completely different from the rest of the pages in the stack.

  Curious, Ariana dug the page free. There was writing at the top, only three words. Ariana squinted and held it up to the moonlight pouring through the window behind her. Her heart seized as the writing came into focus.

  My dear Kaitlynn,

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  Ariana could hardly breathe. Someone had started a letter to Kaitlynn on this very page. Ariana studied the lettering. It was totally androgynous. Could have been a man or a woman. Maybe Briana Leigh had started to write to her friend in prison. An apology letter perhaps? Briana Leigh had already professed a preference for writing actual letters. It would have been poetic to write this particular missive in the office of the man she had murdered. The man at the center of the entire mess between her and Kaitlynn. Maybe she had made a start, lost her nerve, and stashed this here to come back to later.

  Ariana slipped the unfinished letter back into the center of the paper stack where she had found it, just in case Briana Leigh decided to finish unburdening her heart. She didn't want the girl to find it was missing and get suspicious.

  Taking a deep breath, she powered on the computer. Right on the desktop was a direct link to the Bank of Central Texas. Ariana smiled and double clicked the link. Of course, she needed a password to get in to the accounts. Quickly, Ariana tried the most obvious choices. Briana Leigh's name. Her mother's name. Her grandmother's name. None of them worked.

  "Birthdays... birthdays... ," she whispered, the bluish glow of the screen lighting her face. "Briana Leigh, four, fifteen."

  She typed it in, and the bank's welcome screen greeted her.

  "Yes! Yes, yes, yes," Ariana breathed, her heart pounding with excitement.

  She placed her hand on the mouse and closed her eyes, letting the full force of her triumph wash over her. She could only imagine the

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  huge dollar amounts that were going to greet her on the next screen. This was it. She was about to find out exactly how rich she was going to be.

  Ariana opened her eyes and clicked on "Accounts." The page opened. There was only one account listed. A checking account. Worth $2,401.56.


  "What?"

  Ariana quickly clicked back and tried again. The same number greeted her. She scanned the page, looking for links to savings accounts or CDs or money market accounts. Anything. But there was nothing. Nothing but the tiny little checking account.

  Her fingers gripped the mouse so tightly it slipped from her grasp. This wasn't right. It could not be right. Briana Leigh had millions. Hundreds of millions.

  "Okay. Okay. Take a deep breath," Ariana told herself. "Maybe it's in a different bank. This must just be her petty cash account. You just have to keep looking."

  She logged off the website and checked the desktop for other financial links. Nothing. Nothing in the recent browser history either.

  "Dammit," Ariana said under her breath. She had been so close. So sure that her search was over. Where the hell was the rest of the money?

  A footfall sounded in the hallway. Heart pounding, Ariana hit the power button and crouched on the floor behind the desk. Waited until the door was opened, then closed. Deciding it must have been one of the staff, Ariana waited another three minutes, counting the

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  seconds off in her mind. By the time she was done, the many events of the day had come to rest on her shoulders and she suddenly felt exhausted.

  Standing up straight, she stretched her arms over her head. It was three a.m. Time for a well-deserved rest. Tomorrow, the search would continue.

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  THE PROVERBIAL NAIL

  The shaft of sunlight hit Ariana square in the face like a well-placed slap. Her temples were pierced with pain and she rolled away from the windows, squeezing her eyes even tighter."Time to get up, lazybones!" Briana Leigh trilled. She slapped Ariana on the ass and Ariana's eyes popped open.

  You can't kill her. You cannot kill her.But she couldn't bring herself to force a smile, either.

  "You're in a good mood," she said as Briana Leigh bounced into view. She was wearing lime green terry shorts with a white side stripe and a matching workout tank. Her auburn hair was back in a French braid, her sunglasses perched atop her head. How was this girl not hungover? She had drunk enough to level any respectable truck driver--and his wife. Ariana had sucked down all of three drinks and her head was pounding like a bass drum.

  "Teo and I had a long talk and everything's going to be fine," Briana

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  Leigh said, bouncing from foot to foot. "Now get out of bed. I haven't had anyone to hit balls with in forever. You do play tennis, right?"

  Ariana glanced over her shoulder at the blazing sun. She imagined it was at least a hundred and five degrees out there. All she wanted to do was stay inside with the air-conditioning and sleep for another five hours. But this wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what she needed. And she needed Briana Leigh to keep her around.

  "Sure," Ariana said, shoving the comforter aside and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her head exploded with pain again. "Just let me throw some cold water on my face."

  Ariana would have killed for a shower. In all her life she had never been seen in public without one. But she had a feeling Briana wouldn't stand for waiting. So this would be a first--a disgusting first--at Briana Leigh's hands. It made Ariana hate her that much more.

  "I left a tennis outfit and racket on the dressing table."

  Ariana looked over. Bright blue and red stripes. Totally garish, of course.

  "Come on! This'll be good for you!" Briana Leigh cooed as Ariana slowly rose from the bed. This time she picked up her own tennis racket and used it to smack Ariana's ass. Ariana was not enjoying this new habit. "It's always good to get a healthy glow going before a big date."

  Ariana paused on her way around the bed. She must have misheard.

  "A big date?" she repeated.

  "You, me, Hudson, Teo," Briana Leigh confirmed. "We're all going out tonight."

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  Ariana's heart both fluttered and dropped at the same time. An odd, contradictory sensation. She touched her face self-consciously, then crossed her arms over her chest, shoving her hands under her arms. There was no way she could see Hudson again, as much as she was suddenly longing to. Ariana knew herself well. If she saw him, she was going to let him in, and she could not let that happen. There was too much at stake.

  "I don't remember being asked out on a date," Ariana said, trying for a light tone.

  "You weren't," Briana Leigh replied, twirling the racket in her palm. "Hudson apparently couldn't stop talking about you, so Teo and I arranged the whole thing."

  Ariana took a deep breath. She had to play this one carefully. She couldn't give a flat-out no. There had to be a good reason.

  "Briana Leigh, the thing is... I'm not really interested in Hudson," Ariana said slowly, stepping forward. "He's not my type."

  Briana Leigh's blue eyes flashed. "So?"

  "So... I'd prefer not to go out on a date with someone I'm not interested in," Ariana said. "Why don't you and Teo just go?"

  "Because he's Teo's friend and Teo wants us all to hang out," Briana Leigh said. Suddenly she seemed angry. Menacing. "And you're my friend, so you're going to do this for me."

  It wasn't a question. Ariana's collarbone grew hot and she knew that her face was about to flush with irritation. She took a deep breath and beat it back.

  "But I--"

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  "God, Emma! It's just one night!" Briana Leigh snapped, bringing the side of her racket down on the edge of the desk. The slam made Ariana flinch. This girl was crazy. "I am giving you a place to live."

  A sizzle of fear raced down Ariana's spine. It was amazing how quickly and violently Briana Leigh's temper flared. Was that what had happened that day with her father? Had she been acting all carefree and happy one second, then blown his head off the next?

  Ariana swallowed hard. She kept forgetting that she was living under the same roof with a psychotic murderer. From now on, she would have to be more careful. Briana Leigh had hit the proverbial nail right on its proverbial head. Briana Leigh was the one in control--not Ariana. Ariana hated to admit it, but it was true.

  "Fine." Ariana managed a quick smile. "You're right. It could be fun."

  "Good. Now get your ass in gear," Briana Leigh said with a grin, peppy once again. "Let's see how good the tennis instructors in Chi-town are!"

  Ariana didn't know about Chi-town, but the instructors in Atlanta were pretty damn good. Still, should she let Briana Leigh win? Probably. As much as it pained her to consider it, taking a dive was the safer plan.

  It would be a shame to die over something as silly as a tennis match.

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  ACTUAL FUN

  "I've never done anything like this before," Ariana told Hudson as they strolled down the center of the crowded street in one of Dallas's historic districts. The full-skirted seersucker Ralph Lauren dress Briana Leigh had chosen for her fluttered in the breeze, tickling her knees. Considering the other options in Briana Leigh's wardrobe, this dress wasn't half bad. It made Ariana feel like she was the central character in some 1950s, small-town romantic play, with Hudson as her farm boy suitor. She scooped a small bite of ice cream out of her paper cup with her pink spoon and let the sweet confection melt deliciously on her tongue. The sun was finishing its long, slow trip toward the horizon, and a cool breeze tugged Ariana's hair back from her face. The sensory experiences were all so pleasant, she hardly minded the unwashed children with their painted faces and the screaming parents all around her."Anything like what?" Hudson asked.

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  "Like this." Ariana gestured with both arms to take in the whole scene. "This street fair thing."

  Hudson paused, allowing a gap to open up between them and Briana Leigh and Teo, who were strolling up ahead, wearing the matching cowboy hats Teo had purchased for them from a guy at one of the many clothing stands. When Teo and Hudson had arrived at Briana Leigh's house midafternoon and announced that they were going to be attending the Taste of Dallas Festival, Ariana had balked. Her d
ates usually included five-star restaurants, classical concerts in the park, champagne, and respectful kisses at the door. A daytime street fair with arts and crafts vendors, restaurants hawking five-dollar tasting plates, and clowns on stilts generally didn't factor in. But now that she had spent a few hours there, Ariana realized that she was actually having fun. She wasn't sure if it was the weather or the food or the freedom or the fact that Hudson kept reaching for her hand--probably a combination of all four--but she was actually having fun.

  "You've never been to a street fair? I'd think Chicago would have some good ones," Hudson said, incredulous. His ice cream cone dripped over his hand and Ariana automatically held out a napkin. Hudson thanked her and mopped up his hand, giving her an extra second to formulate a proper response.

  "Oh, well, of course they do," Ariana said, figuring it was true. He launched the balled-up napkin toward a garbage can, missed, then rushed over to retrieve it and deposit it properly, all of which made Ariana smile. "It just wasn't something my family was into."

  "Too upper crust for that, huh?" Hudson teased.

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  Ariana smirked. "How did you guess?"

  "Just something about you," Hudson replied. "You go to Easton, and I just had a feeling it wasn't on scholarship."

  Ariana's pulse quickened at the mention of Easton. So he did remember that tidbit she'd fed him. No good. Plus the scholarship thing now had her thinking about Reed Brennan, which instantly dampened her mood. She felt her face start to redden and looked at the ground.

  In, one... two... three...Out, one... two... three...

  Okay. It's fine. You're fine.

  "How's Harvard Prep?" Ariana asked, desperate to stop talking about herself. "Do you like it?"

  "It's okay. It'll get the job done," he said, taking a bite from his cone.

  "What job's that?" Ariana asked.

  "Getting me into Boston Conservatory," Hudson said, running his free hand through his long blond hair. Most of it flopped right back into place. "They only accept three drummers each year, so it's not going to be easy."