Diamonds in the Rough Page 24

  “And where did it get you?” Savannah asked, happy when Peyton’s only response was to shrug. “That’s right—nowhere.”

  “We don’t know that,” Peyton said. “Maybe now she’ll apologize for lying to us. Because I don’t know if you’ve realized, but she hasn’t said anything close to an apology yet. All we get are excuses after excuses. Is it so hard for her to admit she messed up? She might not be drinking anymore, but beyond that, nothing’s changed. She’s as irresponsible and selfish as ever.”

  “You both need to stop this,” Courtney said, her fingers pressed against her temples. “What’s done is done, and arguing is getting us nowhere. Grandma will help us smooth this out when she gets back. For now, let’s clean up this mess.”

  She handed Savannah a broom and a dustbin, and they got to work.

  * * *

  Cleaning the kitchen didn’t take long. Once they were done, Grandma still wasn’t home and Mom remained locked in her room. The apple cobbler was in the oven staying warm, but none of them felt right eating it without Mom, Grandma and Aunt Sophie. So while they waited for them to get back, Savannah took her phone to the outside deck to chat on FaceTime with Evie.

  Her best friend’s freckly face and red hair popped up on the screen after one ring. “Hey, girl!” Evie said. “I take it you’ve arrived back in CA?”

  “Got in late this afternoon,” Savannah said. “My grandma and mom live in Napa now…. Check it out.” She reversed the camera to show Evie the sprawling deck and back of the house. When she was done, she switched back to the front camera. “This house is like a resort. It’s amazing.”

  “Looks nice.” Evie’s eyes flashed with longing, but it disappeared a second later. “I obviously can’t visit tomorrow because of Thanksgiving, but my mom said she’ll drive me over on Friday so we can hang out. Does that work?”

  “Yeah.” Savannah smiled at the thought of seeing her best friend for the first time in weeks—especially since the last time they’d seen each other, Jackie’s volleyball party, hadn’t ended well. “Sounds great.”

  “So, how’s everything with your mom?” Evie asked.

  Savannah gave her the rundown on what had happened since she and her sisters had arrived. “Now my mom’s locked in her room, Grandma’s not home yet, Peyton’s watching TV and sulking and Courtney’s reading. But enough about that. Have you gotten an answer from your mom yet about coming to Vegas for my Sweet Sixteen?” Savannah had invited both Evie and her mom, since Mrs. Brown had always been like a second mother to her, driving her to volleyball practice and letting her sleep over practically every weekend.

  “She said as long as you’re sure the hotel room will be free, we can come!” Evie squealed. “But the flights are my Christmas present, so we better have tons of fun.”

  “Trust me, we will.” Savannah made a mental note to buy Evie the best Christmas present ever to make up for the flights. “I’m so excited you’ll be able to come! The party’s going to be amazing.”

  “I can’t wait,” she said. “How’s it going with filming for My Fabulous Sweet Sixteen? I still can’t believe your party will be on the show.”

  “It’s going okay.” Savannah shrugged.

  Evie raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  “No.” Savannah sighed and slumped in the chair. “I’m terrible on camera. I don’t know why Rebecca thought I would be any good at this. Just because I can sing and record videos for YouTube doesn’t mean I can act.”

  “It can’t be that bad….” Evie said.

  “Trust me,” she said. “It’s that bad. Every time the camera starts rolling, I freak out. And everyone thinks I’m going to mess up, which makes me mess up more. It’s an awful cycle. And the other day I heard the director telling Rebecca…” She swallowed, a lump forming in her throat as she recalled the conversation she’d overheard. She hadn’t told anyone about this yet—not even her sisters. “I heard him telling her that if they couldn’t get enough useful footage, they might pull my episode and replace it with someone else’s.”

  “They can’t do that.” Evie gasped. “Can they?”

  “They sounded pretty serious about it.”

  “I’m sure it’ll work out.” It was nice of Evie to say, but she had no way of knowing that. “I’m not an actress or anything, but I did take drama last year, and I wasn’t half-bad at it. Maybe it’ll be easier if instead of thinking about how you’re putting yourself out there, you pretend like you’re playing a part. Don’t be yourself—be a character.”

  “Be a character instead of myself,” Savannah repeated. It sounded strange, but wasn’t that what she’d done in real life when she’d first moved to Vegas? And she’d been okay at it then. “I’ll try that. Anyway, I hear a car coming down the driveway. It’s probably Grandma. I have to go, but I’ll see you Friday!”

  “See you then!”

  Savannah shoved her phone in her back pocket and walked into the house, praying Grandma could help them make peace with their mom before the Thanksgiving meal tomorrow.

  Chapter 22: Courtney

  The Thanksgiving meal went better than Courtney had hoped after Mom and Peyton’s fight yesterday. Once Grandma had gotten back from dinner last night, she’d helped them smooth things over and convinced Peyton to stop with the instigating for the rest of the holiday. And the entire time their mom had been locked in her room, she was doing yoga. It apparently helped her relax by “getting rid of negative energy and focusing on being mindful in the present.” Whatever that meant. All Courtney cared about was that it worked.

  After the meal, Aunt Sophie went to her room to go to sleep, and the rest of them gathered in the living room to watch a movie. They weren’t past the black-and-white part of The Wizard of Oz when Courtney’s phone vibrated—a call from Brett.

  Her heart fluttered. In the weeks between Halloween and now, they’d been spending more time with each other—as friends—but it was getting harder to deny the pull between them. Since arriving in California, Courtney hadn’t stopped wondering what he was doing back in Vegas, hoping he was also thinking of her. He must have been—why else would he be calling?

  “I’m going to take this.” Courtney pointed at her lit-up phone and excused herself from the living room. It was too chilly to go out on the deck, so she let herself into Grandma’s room, since it was the closest to the living room, and shut the door behind her.

  She took a second to calm her racing heart, then answered the phone and pressed it to her ear. “Hey,” she said, trying to sound relaxed and not act all giddy just because Brett had been thinking about her enough to call.

  “Hey back.” She could hear the smile in his voice, which made her smile, too. “How’s everything in California?”

  She played with her key necklace, thinking about the blowup at dinner yesterday. “About as well as could be expected, I guess.”

  “That bad?”

  She told him the basics of what had happened. “Things are still shaky between Mom and Peyton, but at least they’re being civil. For now.”

  “Sounds rough,” he said. “I’m glad they called a truce for Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah.” She paced in a circle. “Anyway, how’s everything going in Vegas?” Brett was spending the holiday with his dad’s side of the family. He didn’t talk about his dad much—she had a feeling he got along better with Rebecca.

  “Same as every year,” he said. “Everyone asking the same typical questions. Anyway, I’m still at my dad’s and people will notice if I’m gone for too long, but while I was here I had an idea.”

  “About what?”

  “What we talked about on Halloween,” he said. “About your records. We know searching through Adrian’s files to find whatever secret you think he’s keeping from you is impossible.”

  “Right…” She doubte
d he’d figured out a way around Adrian’s security—they would have more luck stealing the crown jewels.

  “But we have this tradition on my dad’s side of the family where every Thanksgiving, we go through family albums and scrapbooks and stuff that’s stored away for the rest of the year to remind us of everything we’re thankful for. It got me thinking—if you think your parents are hiding something about when you were younger, maybe you’ll have better luck discovering it at your grandma’s house than in Adrian’s office.”

  “Let me get this straight.” Courtney stopped pacing. “You want me to snoop through my grandma’s stuff on the slim chance that I might find something that reveals whatever my parents have been hiding from me?”

  “It’s not slim,” he said. “You spent time at your grandma’s growing up, right?”

  “Right…”

  “Was there a spot in her house she didn’t want you and your sisters looking through?”

  Courtney couldn’t imagine snooping around Grandma’s room, but just in case, she locked the door. “Her closet,” she said. “She hated when my sisters and I played dress-up with her clothes and shoes.”

  “That sounds like a good place to start.”

  “I’ll look, but Grandma just moved,” she said, opening the door to the closet. It was a walk-in—much bigger than the closet in Grandma’s old apartment. “Even if she’d been hiding something in there, she could have put it anywhere in the new house. All I see in here are clothes, shoes, photo albums and some boxes that are so high up I would need a ladder to reach them.”

  “Boxes are a great start,” he said. “Are there any ladders or step stools, or something in your Grandma’s room you could use to reach them?”

  “Don’t you think we’re going overboard?” Courtney sighed, although she did check the room. There were no ladders or step stools—the only thing she could use to step on was the antique wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. And that would be too heavy to drag anywhere.

  Then a memory hit her.

  * * *

  Courtney was young—four or five years old. She was playing hide-and-seek with her sisters at Grandma’s apartment while they were waiting to eat dinner. It was Peyton’s turn to seek, and Courtney was excited because while she’d been searching for her sisters the round before, she’d thought of the best hiding spot.

  Peyton turned to the wall, covered her eyes and counted. Courtney hurried to Grandma’s room. Savannah followed at her heels, always trusting that Courtney’s ideas for hiding spots were the best.

  “Where should I go?” Savannah took her thumb out of her mouth to ask.

  “You go into Grandma’s closet and hide behind her clothes,” Courtney said. “I have a better idea, but only one person will fit.”

  “No fair.” She pouted. “I want the better hiding spot.”

  “It’s my idea, so I get it,” Courtney said. “Go in the closet before Peyton starts looking for us.”

  Savannah did as Courtney said. Once the door to the closet had closed, Courtney walked to the trunk at the foot of Grandma’s bed and smiled. It was just big enough for her to fit inside. Peyton was never going to find her.

  She took the decorative clay bowl off the trunk and placed it next to the bed. Hopefully Peyton wouldn’t notice it was missing. Now for the hardest part—taking off the glass top. She gripped it tightly and tried to ease it off the edge, but it was heavier than it looked, and crashed to the wooden floor.

  She backed away, panicked. If she broke it, Grandma would put her in time-out for sure. Maybe if she got in real quick she could hide from getting in trouble. She hadn’t noticed the lock on it until then, but luckily the hinged lid slid up without a key….

  And Grandma shut it closed so fast it was a miracle Courtney’s fingers didn’t get smashed.

  “What are you trying to do?” Grandma’s eyes blazed, and she hurriedly arranged the glass and the clay pot back on the trunk.

  Courtney backed away, her eyes on the floor. She couldn’t answer for fear of bursting into tears. Savannah emerged from her hiding spot in the closet, and Peyton wandered into the bedroom, asking what was going on.

  “We were playing hide-and-seek and I thought it would be a good hiding spot,” Courtney finally managed to say.

  “Never try that again.” Grandma’s voice was stricter than Courtney had ever heard. Courtney’s lip quivered, and Grandma must have realized how much she’d scared her, because she lowered herself to the floor so their eyes were level. “If you had gone in there and closed the lid, you might have run out of air and suffocated to death before anyone found you. And then there are all those spiders…”

  “Spiders?” Courtney shivered as she imagined eight tiny legs crawling over her skin.

  “Lots of them.” Grandma nodded. “They bite, too. That’s why I keep the trunk closed. Do you promise not to open it again?”

  “Yes.” Courtney trembled at the thought of letting out all those spiders. “I promise.”

  Then Grandma told them the cookies were ready, and that they could each have one before dinner. In less than a minute, the trunk with the spiders was forgotten.

  And they had never tried to open it since.

  * * *

  “Courtney?” Brett’s voice brought her back to the present. “Did you find something?”

  “No,” she said. “But I have an idea. I’ll have to put the phone down to look, and if I’m wrong—which I probably am—I have to go back and watch the movie with my family before they wonder why I’ve been gone for so long. So let’s hang up for now, and I’ll call back if I find anything, okay?”

  “All right,” he said. “If you don’t find anything, keep looking the rest of the weekend. You have a much better shot finding something there than here.”

  “I will,” she said. “Thanks for thinking of me and trying to help. And Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “You, too.” His voice sounded so sweet, and she wanted to keep talking to him, but she forced herself to hang up.

  Now to get to business. She jiggled the handle to the door, double-checking that it was locked. Once sure no one could barge in, she removed the display items from the top of the trunk. The ancient wood was cracked and peeling in places. It had looked huge and looming when she was four years old, but it was only the size of a coffee table, just taller. Now that she was older and stronger, the glass top came off easily, and she placed it on the floor, making sure to be quiet.

  Time for the scary part. What if there really were spiders in there? She shivered at the thought. She would just open the top quickly and peek inside, not allowing the spiders enough time to escape.

  She placed her hands on the sides of the lid and took a deep breath. But when she tried to pull it up, it didn’t move. She tried again, and nothing. The lid wasn’t budging.

  She glared at the black metal lock. Yes, she’d known it was there, but when she was four years old, it hadn’t been locked. She’d assumed it would still be unlocked now. But apparently, Grandma was serious about keeping people out of that trunk. If she’d gone to the trouble to lock it, it had to be for a more important reason than making sure the spiders didn’t get let out.

  Courtney sat in front of the trunk and sighed. Now that she was locked out, she wanted to see what was in it more than ever. There had to be a solution.

  Picking up her iPhone, she Google searched “how to pick a lock.” In movies, lock picking looked simple—a girl would take a pin out of her hair and use it to break in. But according to Google, it wasn’t that easy. She could use a paper clip, but she also needed a tension wrench, or pliers or a specific screwdriver—none of which she knew where to find, or what they exactly were.

  She read over the articles, playing with her necklace as she wracked her mind for ways to improvise. But it was more complicated than she’d ant
icipated. She tossed her phone to the ground and ran her fingers through her hair. This was hopeless.

  Then she looked down at her necklace—the antique silver key Grandma had given her for her last birthday. It had been her great-great-grandmother’s. And the trunk, with its peeling wood, could be from around that time, too. What if…?

  Courtney undid the clasp of the necklace and held the key up to the lock. It looked like it could fit.

  There was only one way to find out.

  Not expecting anything, she shoved the key into the lock—it slid in perfectly. She turned it, and her heart jumped at the click. She was in.

  She put the necklace back on, and then placed her hands on both sides of the trunk, steadying herself and taking a deep breath. This was it. Whatever was in there—whatever Grandma had yelled at her for almost finding when she was four—had to be important. It had to be private.

  Courtney chewed on her lower lip. She shouldn’t be doing this. But if Grandma had given Courtney the key, it meant she wanted her to find it, right? So she wasn’t snooping?

  That had to be right. Besides, she was too curious to turn back now.

  She inched the top up slowly. The trunk smelled like dust and mildew—she had to breathe shallowly to keep from sneezing—and the hinges squeaked when it moved. Courtney wouldn’t have been surprised if the last time it had been opened was when she’d tried to hide in there when she was four.

  She didn’t want to open it all the way without checking for spiders, so she used the flashlight app on her phone to do a preliminary search. Not a spider in sight. Her muscles relaxed, and she lifted the lid all the way. The trunk was empty, except for one lone item on the bottom—it looked like a children’s picture book—and it was facedown. She reached inside and lifted it out of the trunk, flipping it over to see the front.

  It was pink with white polka dots, and it said Britney and Courtney, with the B and the C blown up extra big. Courtney would have thought it had something to do with her, but who was Britney? A family member on Adrian’s side whom her mom didn’t want her to know about? But Adrian didn’t have any siblings, and his parents had passed away in a car accident years before Courtney and her sisters had been born. Curious, she opened the cover.