The Sorority Murder (Regan Merritt, #1)(88)

But what if they were wrong? What if the police had gotten it wrong? Or...maybe Candace really did take the truck and then the creep killed her.

She frowned, rubbed her eyes, and flopped down on the couch in their lounge. She just wanted this all to be over. The podcast was ruining her last year in college. It overshadowed everything she was doing. They were planning this year’s Spring Fling, which was still five weeks away, and all people could talk about was Candace and the podcast.

Nia Perez walked into the lounge, looked around. “Hey, have you seen Nicole?”

Nia was on Vicky’s shit list for contacting the podcast about Candace driving on Sunday. They’d figured out it was her real quick. If they did nothing when someone violated the rules, then everyone would break the rules. They hadn’t expelled her, so why was everyone upset?

“She’s around,” Vicky said. That was another thing. Her best friend didn’t agree with her on this. Nicole said she understood, but she’d been spending less and less time with Vicky and more time with the troublemakers, which was how Vicky saw the minority of sisters who wanted to help Lucas Vega.

“Okay. I’ll check the quad.”

“Did you call her?”

“I texted her. She didn’t respond.”

“Try our room. She’s probably studying.” Vicky had to remember that she was the president: she had to be accessible and friendly to everyone, even the rule-breakers.

“I knocked. She didn’t answer. It’s not a big deal. I’ll call her later.”

Nia hurried away. Probably still felt guilty for betraying the sisterhood. Vicky hoped she did.

Vicky got up from the couch and finished organizing their lounge. She liked things in their place and having a cheery environment to hang out in. Usually Nicole helped her, but she hadn’t been around most of the evening. Probably because she had betrayed the sorority. Betrayed her.

The more Vicky thought about it, the more she thought it was Nicole who’d called in to the podcast and disguised her voice. Why hadn’t she come to her first? Vicky would have listened.

Honestly, she was hurt. Ever since the podcast started, she and Nicole had been arguing. Vicky hated conflict. She needed to figure it out. She didn’t want to lose her best friend. They had done everything together for four years. They’d planned to move close to each other, maybe even share an apartment, depending on where they ended up working.

This whole thing was making her half-crazy. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Rachel had been the only one she could talk to. She’d been solid through this whole ordeal.

Vicky turned off the lights and went up to her room. She unlocked the door; the room was dark. It was eleven, maybe Nicole had gone to sleep, but you’d think she would have left a light on.

Vicky turned on the small light over her desk. Nicole was lying on her bed, fully clothed. “Nicole,” she said. “We really need to talk.”

Nicole ignored her. Was she that upset? Vicky was the one who had a right to be angry about everything that had happened the last two weeks, ever since that stupid podcast started and split the sorority in half.

“Nicole, come on, this is important.”

Vicky sat at the end of Nicole’s bed. She didn’t move. Maybe she had fallen asleep.

“Nicole,” Vicky said, shaking her lightly. “I’m sorry, okay? Please forgive me.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, this was mostly Nicole’s fault, except that Vicky felt bad and she couldn’t lose her best friend over this.

Nicole didn’t respond.

“Are you okay?”

Vicky got up and shook her by the shoulders. Rolled her over. Her arm flopped over the edge.

She wasn’t breathing.



Thirty-Eight


Saturday

Both Regan and her dad were early risers, so she wasn’t surprised to find him drinking coffee in the nook when she came downstairs at five thirty. She poured her own coffee and sat next to him. The sun was just rising, but they couldn’t see any colors in the sky, telling her that it was overcast, even though it wasn’t raining. At least not yet.

“What happened with Lucas?” he asked.

She told him everything she’d learned from Lucas and Alexa. “I want to pass this over to Detective Young, but he’s involved with Rachel Wagner. They’re dating.”

“The advisor? The one you think may have covered up Adele Overton’s death?”

She nodded. “I believe Alexa. If you talked to her, you’d believe her, too. Everything she’s said has been substantiated by the information we have. She could have ignored the podcast and not written that letter. She wants to do the right thing but is legitimately scared. Plus, she has a young daughter. Her boyfriend is taking her out of town, and I have their contact information.”

“Young has a conflict of interest. You should bring this to his boss.”

“Taylor was killed—”

“There’s no evidence she was murdered. You said it was considered an accidental overdose, pending investigation.”

“This is part of that investigation.”

“But Candace Swain is Young’s case, and while NAU has their own police department, they would immediately pass a capital case to FPD, so going to them would just delay the investigation. Like I said, go to Young’s boss, let her figure out whether to reassign or pull Young in.” He paused. “You don’t have enough, do you?”