She unlocked the glove compartment and reached into the back. Her fingers found her purse and the velvet bag she had stashed there the night before. Instantly, her pulse relaxed. Kaitlynn hadn't thought to check it. The Osgood paranoia had paid off this time.
Just to reassure herself, Ariana overturned the velvet bag. Dozens of priceless jewelry pieces tumbled into her palm, all lifted from Grandma Covington's bedroom the night before she and Briana Leigh had left. Ariana grinned. Hocking these would pay for a new wardrobe and computer. Her heart tingled with pride as she congratulated
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herself for thinking ahead. She opened the wallet and looked over her Briana Leigh Covington IDs, then looked for the twenty-four hundred dollars from Briana Leigh's checking account, which she had stashed in there, as well as the credit cards Briana Leigh had given her. All present and accounted for.
Kaitlynn hadn't seen any of this. Which meant she still didn't know exactly what Ariana's plan was. Ariana hadn't had a chance to tell her. Thank goodness. And unless Kaitlynn had realized that Ariana's new hair was supposed to serve some purpose, she was clueless. The thought that she knew more than Kaitlynn on at least one score soothed Ariana even further.
She turned the rearview mirror toward her to look herself in the eye and caught a glimpse of tan leather in the backseat. Her heart skipped a happy beat. Kaitlynn hadn't seen the jacket either. That was definitely going to come in handy for covering up her bloodstains until she could buy some new clothes.
Popping her green contacts out of her eyes, Ariana looked at herself in the mirror again.
"Briana Leigh Covington," she whispered to herself. "Hi. I'm Briana Leigh Covington."
She still couldn't get comfortable with the sound of it, but, in the words of Briana Leigh herself, beggars couldn't be choosers.
Ariana's heart squeezed suddenly. Briana Leigh had hidden feelings of loss and guilt and loneliness behind her bitchy veil. She had been so trusting. So generous. Yes, Ariana had been doing her a favor, but she had been so quick to give up control of her whole
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identity, just so that "Emma Walsh" could go to a good school. Could have a life.
And now she was dead. Needlessly dead. All because of Kaitlynn Nottingham.
"I'm so sorry for what happened, Briana Leigh," Ariana said, gazing out at the lake. "But don't worry. I'll take care of her. Sooner or later, she'll pay for this. I promise."
Then she started up the car, threw it in reverse, and turned around, speeding away from the lake and all the demons it held.
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SOME CRAZY
Ariana stepped inside the lobby of the Philmore Hotel and Spa and breathed in deeply. Breathed in the scents of opulence. The fresh lilies bursting from crystal vases. The pungent wax on the gleaming marble floor. The clean leather and velvet furniture. The Chanel No. 5 of the distinguished-looking middle-aged woman at the concierge desk. She took in that breath and tried to calm her terrified excitement.This was where she belonged. This was the life she deserved.
But would these people recognize her? If anyone had seen her photo ten million times, it was the staff of the Philmore. Just standing inside the gold-t
rimmed door was risky. But Ariana simply could not stay anywhere else. She had to be near the lake. Had to keep her eye on the proceedings. It was the only way.
She lifted her head and strode toward the registration desk, her brand-new Louis Vuitton trunk--filled with neatly folded designer
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items, thanks to Grandma C's jewels--zipping along behind her.
The thirtysomething man behind the counter looked up at the auburn-haired girl in D&G sunglasses approaching him. Ariana saw his eyes flick over her outfit, sizing her up with one glance. He took in the Miss Sixty jeans, the Donna Karan blouse, the leather jacket, the diamond studs (the one item of Grandma Covington's she had kept). He smiled, not a trace of recognition in his eyes. There was nothing but approval.
"Good afternoon, miss. Welcome to the Philmore," the man said. "How may I help you?"
Ariana placed her Calvin Klein clutch on the desk and smiled apologetically. "I know it's last minute, but I was hoping you might have a room available," she said with a slight Texan accent.
"Absolutely, Miss... ?"
"Covington," Ariana said with a smile. "Briana Leigh Covington."
"Yes, Miss Covington. And what type of room would you like?" he asked, typing away on his keyboard. "We have several levels. Luxury, luxury suite, deluxe luxury suite with lake view--"
"Lake view? Really?" Ariana's heart skipped in excitement. "I assumed those would all be booked at the height of summer."