XX

T u e s d a y, 2/4/19

Dear Diary,

"Tiffany? The mini Barbie?" Spencer spluttered. "Shut up."

"No. I'm serious!" I exclaimed, my tone one of urgency. "We can corner her. Demand some answers. Trap her in her own little game. Because whatever is going on here, she is a part of it."

"But then she'll go running off to Miss Andrea and tell her that we're suspicious!" Spencer complained. "We can't just confront her. We need a strategy. We need a way to get the answers out of her without her knowing."

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Look, my dad's a lawyer. If anyone can help us in a word-game, he can. Let's go."

Ten minutes later and we were pulling up in front of a beautiful, creamy-coloured mansion decorated with fairy lights and golden sculptures.

My mouth fell open as I followed Spencer into the house. "Spence. This place is amazing!"

Spencer shot me a smile. "Sure is. All Daddy's hard work payed off eventually. I would give you a tour but we've kinda got a deadline here."

I nodded. "That's all good. You can show me some other time."

"Daddy?" Spencer called out as she poked her head into the family lounge room. "Daddy! Oh, there you are."

"Spencer! My darling! You're back earlier than expected," a man, who looked to be in his mid-forties with greying hair and a crisply-ironed collared shirt, turned around to greet us.

"I know," Spencer shrugged off her cardigan and tossed it onto a nearby rack. "Listen, Daddy, do you think you could pull out some of your old law-books? I would like to have a look through some of them if I may."

Spencer's father was only too happy to comply, seeing that law was his passion. After cordially welcoming me, he hurried off to the library to retrieve the books. In the meanwhile, Spencer logged onto his computer and pulled up two tabs as she searched for M i s s    A n d r e a     M e l c o x and M r s.    S a b r i n a    L a h a r t via Google.

"The only Miss Andrea Melcox around these parts is an elderly widow living in the centre of some housing development area inland," Spencer frowned. "It's obvious that Barbie stole the name."

"What about Sabrina Lahart?" I questioned.

Spencer shook her head. "No one by that name resides in Hawaii. Not according to these maps anyway."

Thoughtfully, I nibbled on my lip. "Hmm. Well maybe she's not a Hawaiian? Maybe she's from America. Good luck trying to trace her though. There's probably hundreds of Laharts there."

Spencer groaned and scratched her head in frustration. "We need a private investigator."

I raised my eyebrows. "You have enough money for that, don't you?"

Spencer shrugged. "I'll look into it." Straining her neck, she looked around me towards the door as her father, juggling a pile of books, entered the room.

As I settled myself down on the satin covered couch next to Spencer, I made a mental note to myself.

1. Speak to Tiffany and 2. Find out more about the real Andrea Melcox.

After I was dropped home later that afternoon, I could only be sure of one thing:

My life was messed up.

Spencer had a stolen gun in her car that she wanted to throw into the ocean. Andrea was not Andrea at all but some con artist intent on stealing my Dad's money. Camden thought I was someone I wasn't.

What had things come too?

With a frustrated groan, I flopped, face-first, onto my four-poster bed and buried my head in my mountain of feather-filled pillows.

Geez. If Grandma and Grandpa knew what was going on they'd freak.

"Jo," Luna called up the stairs. "Your father wants to see you in his office."

Great.

Disgruntled, I thumped down the carpeted steps winding towards the secluded room. Tearing my fingers through my dark, tangled hair, I pushed the office door open with my elbow and froze.

Dad was sitting back in his wheelie-chair, going over a stack of important-looking papers, while Andrea, or rather, Sabrina, was standing behind him, playing with his hair.

Upon hearing me enter, they both looked up. Dad flashed me a smile as he motioned for me to sit down opposite him.

Slowly, I lowered my body down onto the cushioned chair that had been set up for me. "Luna said you wanted to see me?" I ventured, my eyes darting towards Andrea every now and then.

"Yes, I've been thinking, darl," Dad leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk in front of him, "I would like you to be at our wedding."

"It's only a month away," Andrea hopped in. "It'd give you plenty of time to prepare."

"Prepare?" I crinkled up my forehead quizzically. "Prepare for what?"

Dad glanced up at Andrea before looking back at me. "Jo, I - that is - we would like you to be a part of the bridal party. How do you feel about being Andrea's bridesmaid?"

I nearly threw up.

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