Perfect Scoundrels by Ally Carter

he said, “I’m not really the heir, am I?”
    Of all the lies Kat had told in her life, not one was harder than the truth.
    “I don’t know. But something’s wrong, Hale. We don’t know what, exactly, but your grandmother did leave some papers in that desk.”
    Hale spun on her. “What did they say?”
    Kat hung her head. “Garrett got to them before I did. They’re gone, Hale. I’m sorry.”
    “What did they say?” he asked, his voice cold.
    “We don’t know,” Gabrielle said. But Hale just kept looking at Kat. “Sure you do. Don’t you, Kat?”
    “It might have been a will. I don’t know, though. Like I said, Garrett got to the papers first. And then he destroyed them. They’re gone, Hale. I’m sorry. I’m so—”
    “So you think Garrett’s behind all of this? So he can…what? What’s his endgame? What does he want?” Hale sounded very much like someone trying to look at things objectively. As though it were just another job.
    Kat shrugged. “We don’t have a clue.”
    “You know who might have been able to help with that?” Hale shouted. “Me!”
    “Hale,” Kat said, reaching for him; but he pulled away. “I wanted to tell you, but—”
    “But what, Kat? But I couldn’t be trusted? But I’m too immature to keep a secret? Maybe you think I’m a screw-up, too.”
    “That’s not it.”
    “Then what is it?”
    “I saw him destroy those papers, Hale,” Kat countered.
    “Yeah. Exactly. Papers. They could have been anything. This proves nothing.” He stormed toward the door, then stopped short. “No. Wait. It proves I don’t have a girlfriend anymore.”

S leep every chance you get. Eat every chance you get. These were two of many lessons that Kat had learned at her father’s knee and her uncle’s table, but on the long flight over the Atlantic, she couldn’t manage to doze. She wanted to blame it on her coach-class ticket, but every time she closed her eyes, she heard Hale’s words and the slamming door. It felt like a dream on a constant loop inside her head, and as much as she wanted to press pause, it just kept playing over and over, and the scene never changed.
    Not on the walk through the airport. Not during the long ride in the back of the cab. Even standing on Uncle Eddie’s stoop, Kat still saw the look on Hale’s face, and for once she had absolutely no idea how to steal the thing she really wanted.
    “Don’t worry,” Gabrielle said. “He’ll get over it.”
    Kat put her key in the lock and looked out over the sleepy street. Newspapers lay waiting for owners; the bakery on the corner had hot bagels and warm coffee. Gabrielle gave a full-body stretch and never once complained about the discomfort of the flight. There are some things even worse than flying coach internationally, and Gab knew it.
    “He’ll come around,” she said. “Trust me, boys always come around.”
    But that wasn’t it, so Kat shifted. “I’m not worried. I’m scared.”
    “Hale will be fine. He’s just got to—”
    “Not about Hale. Garrett. There was this moment in London… It was like…” She trailed off, unable to say the words aloud.
    “What?”
    “It was almost like he knew I was there. Or he was expecting me to be there or something.”
    “You’re getting paranoid in your old age,” Gabrielle teased, but Kat didn’t think it was funny.
    “Remember what Marianne said? About Garrett?”
    “You mean how she was surprised that Hazel never got around to firing him?”
    “Well, looks like that’s not exactly correct.” Kat handed Gabrielle the piece of carbon paper that she had found in the desk.
    “How old is this?” Gabrielle asked with a laugh, but then her eyes scanned over the copy.
    “Hazel typed that letter four days before her coma—two days before she arrived in New York.”
    Gabrielle stopped reading. “So Hazel was old-fashioned? What does that…”
    “Read the first line. Right there.” Kat pointed to the words. “It’s a termination letter.