The Sorority Murder (Regan Merritt, #1)(101)

“How so?” Brian asked.

“Because she made it so compelling that Abernathy was guilty. And the girls who spoke to me were genuine about their concerns about him. The campus police had numerous reports. I guess I wanted to believe it was him and he ran because of what he did. But I listened to Lucas’s podcast, and he brought up some good questions that I shouldn’t have easily dismissed—like how Abernathy, a known alcoholic, could have killed her and moved her body without being seen, without leaving evidence. That takes more planning than luck.”

“Did you grab the security cameras from the college?”

“By the time we knew she’d drowned in chlorinated water, the tapes were worthless. The college keeps tapes only thirty days. We had requested the tapes from the weekend of the party and still have those—I’ve gone over them several times. But there is not full coverage. Very few indoor cameras for privacy reasons. Had I known she was seen in the library, I would have requested those tapes, but no one came forward, until now.”

“Buddy, you did what you could with what you had to work with,” Brian said.

“I feel used and manipulated. I met Rachel during the murder investigation.”

Regan had been wondering about that, but didn’t comment.

“I liked her,” Steven said. “She seemed genuine, smart, kind—and I was wrong. If I can date a woman for nearly three years and not know who she really is, that doesn’t make me a good cop.”

“It makes you human,” Regan said.

He frowned.

“Three years is a long time,” Regan said. “Most people get married, move in together, or call it quits.”

“I have a nine-year-old daughter. She comes first in my life, and Rachel understood that. She said she wasn’t ready for a lifetime commitment because she was working on a full professorship and she devoted so much of her time to the sorority, as their advisor. And looking back on it now, it was convenient for me, because I didn’t want a serious relationship, and I enjoyed her company. We were both happy with the arrangement. I admired her career, that she had a life separate from me, and respected my time with Wendy. But she used me. Clear as day now.”

“Where is your daughter?” Regan asked.

“After I talked to my boss this morning, I called my dad and asked if he could take her for the weekend, and I would explain everything later. I didn’t want to call in my regular babysitter, not knowing what was going on with Rachel or what she might do. I can’t see her going after me or my daughter, but as a precaution I didn’t want Wendy in town.”

“I get that,” she said.

She understood more than Steven could possibly know. If she’d had advance knowledge that one of her enemies was in town, she would have done more to protect her son.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

She didn’t know how not to think about it, but she pushed her guilt aside for now.

Brian said, “I need to talk to the DA and the hospital to check on the status of Bergamo. I might have more questions. I have your contact information, Regan. I’ll reach out if I need anything else.”

“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’m going to head to the hospital now. If I hear something first, I’ll call you.”

“Appreciate it.”

After Regan dropped him off, Lucas spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon digging into the life of Rachel Wagner. By the time Lizzy came by at one thirty, he had a headache from reading so much material online, but he was beginning to think he might be onto something.

Candace Swain wasn’t the first person Rachel killed.

“What’s all this?” Lizzy asked, waving her arm toward the coffee table where he had spread out a hundred sticky notes and his laptop was open, its charger draped across the room, attached to an extension cord. Four Coke cans and an empty bag of chips littered the floor.

He quickly picked up. “I’m not this messy, really.”

“I know you’re not. What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out something.”

“Let me help.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about the podcast.”

“Do you think you can put all this aside right now?”

He shook his head.

“Then, spill it. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

She plopped down on the couch, waiting.

He sat down next to her. “Regan told me that Rachel had a lot of stuff in her office about her time in college. She was a cheerleader, in the Sigma Rho sorority, all that stuff. She graduated the same year as Regan, so that gave me a starting point. I went through the Sigma Rho archives from U of A, I looked through local press reports, blogs, things like that. When Rachel was a sophomore, another sorority sister—Brittney Posner—disappeared. It was at the end of the school year, and like Adele, Brittney was expected home but never showed.

“Rachel was quoted in the newspaper, along with two other girls, about Brittney. The police told the press that Brittney had been at an end-of-year cleanup party at the sorority house and planned to leave early in the morning for her parents’ house in Santa Fe. Like Adele, she didn’t show up, but this time, the police had more information. Brittney’s car was still on campus, so they knew she hadn’t left. They tracked down everyone who was at the cleanup party. Two said she left a note that she went running early in the morning. One of those people was Rachel.”