“And you don’t know the sixth circle?”
“No—just the name. It’s called ‘Secure.’”
“As in ‘to secure’?”
“Yes. I think it might have something to do with forging your future somehow. That’s all I know.”
Her comment was vaguely similar to what Alexis Grey had said about the Sixes taking care of you after college. Phoebe was baffled. It was hard to imagine such a malicious group of girls morphing into a spunky career-networking operation.
At that Jen let her shoulders sag, like a kid who was growing bored and irritated. “I should probably go now.” She rose from the couch and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her slicker. “They might wonder where I am. So you’re going to help, right?”
“The Sixes are still in operation—even with Blair in jail?”
“It’s sort of a mess, but they’re trying to keep it going,” she said.
“Who’s in charge now? Another senior?”
“Yes, but I can’t tell you who,” Jen said. “She’s a friend of mine. We—”
She broke off, looking like she’d given too much away. Phoebe bet it might be Rachel, the girl she saw Jen yammering to that day after class. Rachel was a senior.
“Okay, Jen, I’ll see what I can find out. But you have to do the same for me. About Fortuna. I expect to hear from you.” She paused. “I also need you to find out what the sixth circle entails.”
“But they’ll never tell me that,” Jen said. “Besides, I don’t see how knowing any of that would help.”
“Let me worry about that. Just find it out.”
Jen started to move toward the door
“There’s one more thing I need to know before you go,” Phoebe said. “Was Lily Mack trying to extricate herself from the Sixes?”
Jen sighed, thrusting her hands deeper into her pockets.
“Yes, she wanted out. And I heard Blair was furious about it. She felt really betrayed.”
“How long had Lily been a member?”
“Just since last spring. After her boyfriend left.”
“And why did she want to quit this fall? Because she started to find out what the Sixes were up to?”
Jen finally met Phoebe’s eyes and held them.
“No, it wasn’t really that. She was going through the fifth circle this fall, and the man she was supposed to, you know, seduce . . . she fell in love with him. And she didn’t want to use him in any way. That’s why she wanted out.”
Phoebe found herself swallowing hard. She didn’t like where this was going.
“So who was it?”
“I don’t know. I swear. The only thing I know is that she was on a committee with him. Blair said that was how Lily first got to know him.”
The school, Phoebe knew, seemed to form a committee every time you turned around. That’s how she had met Duncan, after all—on a committee made up just of faculty. There were others for students only, and some that included a combination of faculty, students, and administration. Jen had been on the committee Stockton had organized about student life—that’s where he’d seen her exchange a look with the other girl, Molly Wang, when he raised the topic of sororities. It should be easy enough, for Phoebe, to figure out which one Lily had participated in this fall.
As soon as Jen left, scurrying down the porch steps, Phoebe began to pace. She felt totally wired from the tarot card and now from Jen’s visit. Her gut told her Jen didn’t have a clue about Fortuna. Other members—Blair and the senior council—certainly might. But how could they have ever found out? Glenda was the only one here who knew about Fortuna. Could her friend have told someone?
Phoebe stopped abruptly. She debated whether she should even bother calling Michelson to tell him about the tarot card. Would he even care? The fact that the Sixes might know horrible details from her past and choose to torment her about them would have no relevance to the deaths they were investigating, even if Blair and Gwen were guilty.
She thought back on what Jen had shared about the scarf. If the story was true, it meant that someone was trying hard to implicate Blair—and perhaps by association, the other Sixes. That clearly suggested that the killer was someone at Lyle College, someone who knew the Sixes made a perfect target.
And that took her right back to where she’d started on Monday. If the Sixes hadn’t killed Hutch, then the murderer could very well be a psychopath, someone who received his kicks purely from killing. But there was now something new to factor in, something she should have followed up on before: the new man who’d been in Lily’s life this fall. In her mind she heard the line Lily had supposedly said to Amanda: Wouldn’t I be a fool to date a little boy again?
Phoebe glanced at her watch. It was almost four and she hadn’t heard from Glenda yet. She tried Glenda’s cell again, and when that proved futile, she rang the office number once more.
“I’m sorry, she’s still out, Ms. Hall,” the assistant informed her.
“It’s really urgent I speak to her, and she’s not picking up her cell.” Phoebe realized that she sounded like a child not getting her way.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me telling you,” the assistant said. “She was going to pick up Brandon from school today and help him with his homework. From there she was heading over to a literary magazine fair they’re holding on the quad this afternoon.”
“All right, I’ll try to catch up with her at the fair.” Then Phoebe had an idea. “One more question. Do you know how I could find a list of all the school committees this term, and who’s on them?”
“I’m not sure who would have access to that list. Dr. Johns, of course. And probably Dean Stockton.”
Stockton was the last person in the world Phoebe wanted to ask.
As soon as she hung up, Phoebe realized she couldn’t wait for the fair. She had to talk to Glenda now. She draped a coat over her shoulders, grabbed her purse, and headed for her car. Glenda would probably be back from Brandon’s school by now and Phoebe planned to stop by the house. She would be interrupting mommy time, she knew, but she had to learn if Glenda had ever shared information about her past with anyone at Lyle. Phoebe had driven only a block toward Glenda’s house when she was forced to flick on her windshield wipers because the drizzle had morphed into a light rain.
To Phoebe’s surprise, the housekeeper didn’t respond to her knock on the door. She tried again, and as she waited, she detected music playing inside—a jazz song. Someone was home and obviously couldn’t hear her above the noise.
She pushed the front door open and called out hello. No one responded. The music seemed to be coming from the conservatory, and she followed it, like a thread. She reached the room and glanced around. There were speakers on a small table, the source of the jazz, but no one was in the room.
She glanced out the long windows, across the yard to the driveway. Glenda’s car wasn’t even there. Damn, Phoebe thought, Glenda must have shifted her plans. Phoebe backed out of the room and into the main hall, rushing to leave. As she took a step toward the front door, the landline in the house rang. She flinched. And then from just inside the living room, she heard a male voice answer hello. It was Mark. Phoebe froze in position.
“Yes, I understand,” Mark said. “But never call me on this phone again, do you understand? I told you to use my cell.”
Phoebe stayed still, holding her breath. It wouldn’t be pretty to have Mark discover her presence, but at the same time, she was desperate to hear what he would say next.
“Of course, I told you that,” he said after a few seconds. There was another long pause. She heard him clear his throat.
“I’ll have it for you,” he said crisply. “I said I would, and I will.”
Oh, God, Phoebe thought. He was about to get off and possibly leave the room. She tiptoed to the front door and snuck outside, scrambled down the steps of the porch, and bolted to her car. Once inside she finally breathed and fired up the engine. Before pulling out into the street, she looked back at the house. To her chagrin, she saw the curtains of the living room part just an inch. Someone, most likely Mark, was peering outside.