The Sorority Murder (Regan Merritt, #1)(26)

He? Why do you assume the killer is a he? Candace lived at a sorority, and the sorority has closed ranks. It could have been one of the girls. The killer could be a she.

But could one girl move her body from a swimming pool to Hope Springs Lake? Maybe...but unlikely.

Maybe more than one person was involved. That could complicate matters.

Regan had a thought. “One thing we haven’t discussed is the complexity of living in a sorority. The pressures, the friendships, and former friendships. The friendly rivalries—and not-so-friendly ones.”

“Were you in a sorority during your time at NAU?” Lucas asked.

“No, but Greek Life plays a huge part in the lives of people who belong. There are a lot of positives—immediate friends, a sense of belonging, a sense of being special, contacts for the future. For a sorority like Sigma Rho, you have an added sense of togetherness, since the majority of young women were majoring in STEM. There were nursing students, engineers, math majors—all difficult degrees that require extra study.”

She saw Lizzy snort on the other side of the glass, and Lucas picked up on it. “I suppose those who aren’t math-and science-oriented think they’re difficult, but for some people it comes easy.”

Regan laughed. “You’re right. I wasn’t a math person. Barely passed trig, and for my math requirement here I took business economics, the easiest class I could find. My point is that these are students who are likely taking their chosen fields seriously. Sigma Rho isn’t a party dorm—and I think we all know who is. What kind of pressures did these young women have that might have contributed to Candace’s state of mind when she disappeared?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Lucas admitted. “Maybe someone who knew Candace could share what they know, that might help us get into her head.”

Lizzy indicated they had another caller.

Lucas pressed another button. “We have another caller. This is Lucas Vega with Regan Merritt. Would you like to share your name?”

“No, not really. I almost didn’t call.”

Her voice was quiet, but not because she was trying to disguise it. It was almost as if she was trying not to be overheard.

“I saw Candace on Tuesday morning. After she was reported missing. But I didn’t know she was missing then, so I really didn’t think anything about it.”

Regan asked, “How can you be sure that it was the Tuesday after she went missing?”

“I knew Candace, and she was supposed to meet with me and a couple others from our molecular biology class the night before. We were going to study because there was a huge test on Thursday and if you didn’t pass it, well, you probably wouldn’t pass the course, and we all needed it to graduate. We’d been meeting every Monday for the entire semester, and Candace really understood everything and could explain it in a way that helped. Anyway, she didn’t show and she didn’t answer her text messages, and I was kind of pissed. The next morning was Tuesday, and it was early. Cline Library had just opened, and I saw Candace walk out the side door, not the main door. She ignored me.”

“You and Candace studied together, so she would recognize you.”

“Yes. I mean, we didn’t hang out or anything, but we had a lot of classes together over the years, so we were friendly.”

“Go on,” Regan encouraged.

“The library had literally just opened. I was on my way to a morning lab. I live off campus, but it’s not far to walk. I always pass the library. It’s sort of a shortcut across campus for me. Candace had an oversize bag, like a big, bulky purse. She walked right by me without looking, even though I said hello. I’d wanted to ask where she was the night before, but she looked mad, and she totally ignored me.”

“Why did you think she was angry?”

“Her expression. Like she was furious about something, her mouth set, walking fast. She had on sunglasses, even though it was early, and she looked determined. She stomped down the path heading off campus. She was kind of a mess. Her hair sloppy, clothes all wrinkled. Every time I saw Candace she was always so put-together, you know?”

The more this student spoke, the more Regan believed her.

“What was she wearing?”

“I dunno. Just regular clothes.”

“Jeans? A dress? A sweatshirt?”

“I—” The caller sighed dramatically. “Jeez. I really don’t remember. Maybe a sweatshirt, but everyone wears sweatshirts, so I don’t know. Not a dress or skirt. Just casual.”

“And she came out of the library,” Regan prompted. “It had just opened, which would be about seven thirty, correct? You had a lab at seven thirty?”

“My lab was at eight, but I usually went early so I could grab coffee and food at the student union on my way. And I just had this idea that she’d done an all-nighter, but I remember thinking she couldn’t have done an all-nighter at the library. She never went to class looking like that. I had the feeling she’d spent the night at the library. Then I thought that was stupid, she was probably returning a book or something.”

There were security cameras at the library, but they didn’t cover the entire interior, and if someone didn’t want to be seen, they might be able to hide from Security until after closing.

Would there still be copies of those tapes, three years later? Regan doubted it. She could ask, find out how long they kept recordings.