“I know she had one, but I never saw it. She told me she’d been keeping it since she was thirteen, when her parents were going through their divorce. Candace said journaling helped her more than talking to the psychologist they sent her to. That I understood. I’ve always preferred writing out my problems than talking about them. Why do you ask?”
Regan had been hoping Richie had the journal or knew where it was.
“The police never found it in her room or car.”
“That’s weird,” he said. “That journal was important to her. I had a feeling that she wrote down things she wouldn’t say out loud.”
He was right. Weird. And suspicious.
Because now Regan thought her killer took it. And maybe the reason Candace was killed in the first place was because of something in her journal.
Twenty-Six
After his morning class, Lucas grabbed a sandwich and went to his office in the communications building. He propped the door open with his garbage can because the small window didn’t open and the room was stuffy.
He had a list of everything he needed to investigate about Sigma Rho and the girls who went there, both with Candace and before her time. He’d done basic research before launching his podcast—he knew the names and graduation status of every girl who was at Sigma Rho during the time Candace was there. But finding most people after graduation hadn’t been his focus.
He started reading the Sigma Rho newsletters from her first year. The rush class, pictures of the girls, events, names. Candace was all over it: she had been popular then as well as when she died.
“Hello!”
He jumped.
Lizzy stood in his door and laughed. “Scared ya.” She pushed aside the garbage can so she could walk in. “Whatcha doing?”
“Researching the sorority.”
“Fun. Need help?”
“It’s not fun.”
She sat on the chair across from him. “Maybe I just want to spend time with you.”
He warmed at the thought. Lizzy was flirty—she always had been, he now realized—but he’d never thought she was interested, until last night.
“You can start digging into Vicky Ryan while I finish reading these newsletters.” He pushed over his notebook where he had a list of questions about Vicky Ryan.
“It is fun. I’m looking for dirt.”
He quickly wrote out the other names he was looking at—every name that had come up over the course of his research—and slid that to her. “If Vicky has a connection with any of these girls, make a note.”
“You think she’s the one who killed Candace?”
“No.”
“Then, why do this?”
“Candace mentored her, she was at the party, and she doesn’t want anyone in the sorority to help us solve Candace’s murder. And Regan put her on the list.”
“I like her.”
“Vicky?”
“Regan. She’s a sharp tack. All calm, cool, and collected. I can totally see her as a badass marshal. Do you know why she left?”
“Not really. I know her son died, but Professor Clarkson didn’t say anything more.”
“That’s so sad.”
They worked in silence for several minutes.
Lucas went through each person on his list, starting with Kimberly Foster, the alumna who had allegedly been a witness to the argument between Candace and Taylor.
Kimberly Foster—middle name Anne—was from Payson, Arizona, a small mountain town famous for hunting and gold mining, though that industry had mostly dried up decades ago, going from over eight thousand mines to fewer than three hundred. Still, it was a nice area to camp, fish, hike, and hunt. Lucas and his brother used to go up there to fish with his grandpa, before he died when Lucas was in high school. They were some of his favorite memories.
Kimberly had graduated cum laude from the Health and Human Services College. He wished he could do a wide search on the Sigma Rho website, but all the newsletters were PDF documents, and he had to search each one separately, which was time-consuming. He almost wished he had asked Lizzy to split the newsletters with him.
He found Kimberly’s rush statement, which clearly showed she was an overachiever.
Extracurricular activities in high school: Varsity Cheerleading, 4 years. Captain, senior year. Student Council, 4 years. Senior Class Vice President. Varsity Cross-Country, 4 years. Peer tutoring, 4 years. Debate Club, 2 years. Class Valedictorian.
Rush Statement: Sigma Rho is the only sorority I wanted to join. The smart women here are focused on the future, with the overwhelming majority majoring in science and math. I am an only child and have always wanted sisters—joining Sigma Rho would complete me in ways that only another only child would understand. My strengths are organization, coalition building, and loyalty. I will always support my sisters in whatever they choose to do, and I look forward to lifetime friendships.
Lucas cringed. Were all of these things so sappy? Maybe he was being negative because the sorority had closed ranks and wouldn’t talk to him.
He saved each page to his desktop so that he could review them later. He already had all of Candace’s information; it had been one of the first things he’d done. He found Taylor James, Annie Johnston, Alexa Castillo, who Annie had mentioned as having volunteered with Candace, and Vicky Ryan.
He then started running a variety of Google searches on Kimberly Foster, and after several tries, he found her.
Kim was now the public information officer for the largest biotech company in the southwest. She made six figures and lived in Old Town Scottsdale in a condo now worth more than $600,000. She was single but had dated a professional baseball player, as well as the CEO of a software company. Kim had been profiled as one of the Top 30 Women under 30 in a statewide business magazine last year.
She had done very well for herself. He wondered if she would talk to him, or Regan, about Candace. He saved her social-media pages and her work email and phone number and made a note to talk to Regan about how to approach her.
Kimberly Foster had been privy to the fight between Taylor and Candace, and now two of those three were dead.