The Sorority Murder (Regan Merritt, #1)

“Oh my God, where have you been?”

“I told you.”

Silence.

“Don’t do this,” Taylor finally said. “Please don’t.”

“I didn’t find anything. You win.”

“It’s not about winning, Candace, it’s about survival.”

“It’s about doing the right thing.”

“The police are looking for you. Everyone is. Annie reported you missing. What are you going to tell them?”

Maybe this was her chance. Her opening. And maybe, just maybe, they would listen to her, even if Taylor refused to back her up.

“Candace, tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Please, Taylor. Please understand that this is the only thing we can do.”

“This is about that little punk, Lucas Vega, isn’t it?”

“No.” Yes. “Sort of.”

“Don’t do this to me.”

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Taylor. But if you join me, we can give Lucas, we can give everyone, closure. It’s the right thing to do.”

“I don’t know.” Taylor sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

This was the opening she needed to convince Taylor to join her.

“I’ll be back in less than three hours,” Candace said. “Let’s talk, just you and me.” If she could get Taylor alone, convince her, they’d go directly to the police. Before anyone else talked to Taylor and changed her mind.

“Okay. Come to my dorm.”

“No. I’m never going back there. The aquatic center, okay? It’s private, it’s quiet, just you and me, and we’ll hash this out, and together we’ll figure out what to do. I promise, Taylor, I won’t do anything without you.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes.” No. She didn’t know if she could trust Taylor, but she wanted to. Deep down, Taylor was a good person, she just needed to be reminded of that.

“Okay. Three hours. I’ll be there.”



Twenty-Four


Thursday

After only a handful of hours of sleep, Regan needed both food and coffee. She arrived at the diner at quarter to seven so she could caffeinate her system before Lucas showed up.

She saw Jessie sitting in her favorite corner booth and slid in across from her. “We didn’t have a date, did we?” Jessie asked.

“Nope.”

Susan brought over coffee. “What can I get you this morning?”

“Nothing yet. I’m meeting someone.”

“No problem, let me know when you’re ready.” Susan walked away.

“Tripp?” Jessie asked.

“Why would you say that?”

“He’s back in town. I see him in here all the time. I thought you knew.”

“I ran into him the other day.”

“He’s always had a crush on you.”

“Bullshit,” she said.

Jessie laughed. “You’re cute when you’re angry. But you know I’m right.”

“He’s JT’s best friend. I’m not even going there.” She paused. “Jess, I have a conflict this weekend.”

“You’re fucking canceling on me?” Jessie said. “I won’t let you. We haven’t gone out once since you’ve been back.”

“Lucas Vega was threatened, I need to keep him close,” Regan said. “And he found one of Candace’s friends dead last night. He took it hard, feeling guilty that his podcast may have led her down a dark road—it’s a probable OD. He tried to save her.”

“Poor kid, I get it, but dammit, Regan, the weather is finally perfect, and you’re playing psychotherapist.” She drained her orange juice. “Bring him with us.”

“I doubt he could keep up. He’s a beanpole and doesn’t look too robust.”

“I’m not happy.”

“As soon as this is over, we’ll go.”

Jessie snorted, finished her waffles. “You’re buying my breakfast.”

“Fine.”

Jessie nodded toward the door. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” Lucas didn’t look like he’d had much more sleep than she had.

“You’re right. Scrawny. A hike would do him good.”

Jessie got up, introduced herself to Lucas as he approached. “I’m Jessie Nez, Regan’s best friend, and she bailed on me for you, so I hope you appreciate it.”

“You’re impossible,” Regan said and shook her head.

“I gotta bolt. Dead deer off Route 66 in Bellemont. Doesn’t seem to be a vehicle involved, but I need to check things out. Be careful, Regan.”

“You, too, Jess.”

Lucas sat down across from her and Susan came over with menus and more coffee for Regan. “Coffee for you?” she asked Lucas as she put a mug down before grabbing Jessie’s empty plate.

He grimaced. “Yeah, I need it.” He liberally poured sugar in his cup.

They ordered, and then Regan said, “How you holding up?”

“I didn’t sleep. I feel awful about the whole thing.”

“Like I said last night, Taylor’s OD is not on you. How are we going to handle this on your podcast?”

“My plan was to recap what we know, read the anonymous letter, and then I guess now talk about Taylor’s death. But I feel bad about that. I don’t want to say she ODed without knowing it’s true or not. Will they have the autopsy done by then? It’s usually twenty-four to forty-eight hours, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it before it’s official.”

“You don’t have to give cause of death. The media would say an apparent drug overdose, pending investigation.”

“Right. So talk about that, and how people need to dig deep because what one person remembers another might remember more, and so on.”

“We already have solid sightings. I’m particularly interested in the library sightings. And,” Regan continued, “I think you need to share all the details about Candace’s death. Beginning to end.”

“I planned to. I just wanted to do this chronologically.”

“That makes sense on paper, but consider this. You received a possible threat. We were followed. Taylor died, either on purpose or by accident, we don’t know. And you have more information about Candace’s death. You mentioned that she didn’t die in the lake, but you need to reveal all the details. It will interest some people, horrify others, and they’ll talk—and talking is where people will remember. Okay?”