The Sorority Murder (Regan Merritt, #1)(52)

He turned his computer screen around so she could see what he’d done.

“Think whoever wrote the note will reach out?” she asked.

“I hope.”

They chatted while he ate his cookie. It was nice spending time with Lizzy. She told him about all the drama in her apartment—she lived in campus upper division housing with three other girls on the far southern tip of campus. Ten minutes later, he was laughing as much as she was.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“My place is in totally the opposite direction from your place.”

“But I can catch the bus down there, it’s not a problem.”

“Then great!” Lizzy said.

He locked up and they walked out. Lizzy was the first person—okay, the first girl—that had him not thinking constantly about his ex-girlfriend, Amanda. He’d tried dating for a while but realized that he compared everyone to his longtime high-school sweetheart. That wasn’t fair to them, and he recognized that he wasn’t over Amanda. But Lizzy...he didn’t compare her. That had to be a good thing.

Except he had no idea what Lizzy actually thought about him, other than they were friends and they spent a lot of time together.

“Quiet all of a sudden,” she said.

“It’s cold.” They headed down the path that led to the southern edge of campus.

“Snow’s gone.”

“Still cold.”

“Can’t argue with that. It just doesn’t bother me.”

He wanted to ask Lizzy out, but not now—not when he was in the middle of the project. Would she go out with him, knowing that he was going back to Phoenix as soon as he graduated?

“When I’m done with this podcast, maybe I can take you out or something.”

“Depends.”

He didn’t expect that answer.

“Depends on what?”

“Do you want to take me out as a thank-you?” she said as she glanced at him. “Or on a date?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. If he said as a thank-you, she’d never know how he was beginning to feel about her. If he said on a date and she wasn’t interested, it would put their friendship in a weird place.

He really hated being this indecisive.

“Earth to Lucas Vega. What is it?”

“Date?” He squeaked out the word.

“Is that a question, or do you really want to go out with me?”

“I really want to go out with you.” He cleared his throat. “But if you don’t, I don’t want you to think that I’m going to get all weirded out on you or anything. I mean, I can handle rejection and stuff.”

“For a smart guy, you’re really clueless.”

They’d reached the quad that housed her apartment and she stopped, turned to face him.

Then she stood on her tippy-toes and kissed him. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was on the lips, and he stared at her in surprise.

She laughed. “Lucas, you’re so damn cute, and you don’t even know it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved and walked upstairs to her apartment.

Half dazed, half confused, and fully happy, Lucas waited for the bus, barely even noticing the cold anymore. He really hadn’t seen that coming.

Lucas was still thinking about Lizzy when he exited the bus and walked six blocks uphill to his apartment.

He didn’t know when it happened, when he’d really got over Amanda and let himself be open to falling for someone else. Maybe it was a long time ago, but he’d been so obsessed with Candace Swain’s murder that he couldn’t see it. All he knew was that for the first time, he was optimistic—that even though it took him nearly four years to find a girl, he’d found someone he really liked, who was smart and funny and cute. Maybe it wouldn’t work out. Maybe it would. But it was okay...because he felt like an unacknowledged weight had suddenly been lifted off his shoulders.

He was really looking forward to finishing this podcast, solving Candace’s murder, and putting the past completely behind him.

When he reached his apartment door, he noticed the lights were all off: Troy must be out with Denise. He unlocked the door and as he opened it, he noticed a paper sticking out from under his mat. He picked it up and flipped on the lights.

Lucas dropped his backpack on the couch. The envelope was standard, plain and white. On the front, his name was written in a red Sharpie in thick, perfect block letters.

His stomach tightened. Something felt creepy, like he was being watched. But that was stupid—he was inside his apartment.

He looked out the front window. The street was quiet, dark, except for a streetlight on the corner. Cars were parked up and down both sides, which was common for this area. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Don’t be so paranoid,” he said out loud.

He opened the envelope. Written in the same red marker, in the same perfect block letters, was a short message.

LEAVE IT ALONE.



Twenty-One


After having one too many margaritas, Regan tossed her dad her car keys. She’d told him about Lucas’s call and the threatening letter. “I know it’s serious, not only because he called instead of texting me but because he sounded scared.”

“He should call the police.”