Guilty Secrets (Campus Love and Murder Sorority Eyes Romance Book 1) (12 page)

Brad had kept Davina's secrets. Davina had kept Dean's secrets. It wasn't a perfect circle. Others must be keeping both Brad's secrets and those of the Dean. But whom?

I was no closer to discovering how any of these uncovered secrets contributed to Madison's death.

All I knew was things would become clearer at Dean Everhardt's weekend party when I planned to discover whatever secrets he was hiding.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The weekend came without further incident. When Saturday arrived I woke up with the familiar feeling of frantic butterflies, dive bombing inside my stomach.

My first thoughts were of Harry. I checked my cell phone. He hadn't called. Conflicting emotions had made me hesitant. I hadn't called him since the date.

My fingers hovered over his number in my contact list when I heard a knock at my bedroom door.

Mai entered. "Need help with your make up for the Dean's party?"

I nodded. "Quick shower first."

In the bathroom I studied my face in the mirror. The bruising looked worse than it really was. Some of the swelling had receded. The color was grotesque.

I jumped in the shower and instantly felt better under the hot pummeling jets. Like everything in the apartment, the shower was total overkill. In this instance, the shower had jets pointing at every angle. The feeling was of one complete sensuous indulgence. Before long my mind wondered how Harry's experienced love making touch on my virgin body would compare to the heady sensations of the shower's jets.

Jets thundered down on my neck and shoulders. Two jets of water massaged my nipples. A third strategically placed in the wall together with a forth jet in the floor shot bursts of water directly into the sweet spot between my legs.

I was soon lost in the anticipation of Harry's touch.

I imagined each jet was Harry's full lips teasing my body. Finding my secret desires and unleashing them. I found a dial in the wall that enabled me to control the level of pulsing, water and simulate Harry's rock hard manhood moving in and out of me.

Before long my knees began to tremble as I panted softly under the torrent of pulsating jets of water. I moaned, "Harry take my virginity..."

It was then I noticed a shadow on the other side of the glass wet room door.

Mai called out, "Lover boy's on the phone for you."

"Who?"

"How many have you got?"

"Oh. Harry?"

"Yes, Harry. Shall I tell him he's lost out to your power shower?"

I turned off the shower and stepped out. Mai looked up and down at my naked wetness with amusement and handed me a fresh, warm towel.

I took my cell phone from her and shooed her away.

"Um, yes, Harry?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

Are you calling for me? Or because of Madison?
"Tonight? I've been invited to Dean Everhardt's party."

"Cancel."

So he really is interested in me. Don't be a fool. He's only interested because you remind him of Madison.

"I can't, Harry. Sorry."

"Everhardt's on Madison's list?"

I hesitated and whispered, "Yes."

"Call me when you're done."

He hung up.

I replayed the conversation in my head. It felt almost business like. I told myself that it was for the best and sighed.

I had more important issues than my barely controlled lust for a man who could be involved in Madison's murder.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Dean Everhardt's house was on campus grounds. A stately mansion with a long winding drive through mature grounds.

I parked up Rust Bucket away from the rows of Bentleys, Aston Martins, Mercedes and assortment of other European dream cars, just in case Rust Bucket got any more malicious ideas.

Greek columns supported the facade of the front exterior as I joined the throngs of the privileged invitees, taking the white stone steps up to the open double doors.

Dean Everhardt and his wife waited inside the marble lobby and greeted all in turn. She was far prettier than I imagined a wife of his might be. Mai had told me that she was his second wife. The younger trophy wife.

Quite what had happened to his first wife, Mai didn't know. But there was no divorce that anyone had heard of.

I was swept up into a ball room. I spotted Kublai Khan and turned away to admire a row of portraits on a wall.

A moment later I felt an insistent tapping on my shoulders. I took a deep breath and turned on my heels with a readymade smile for Khan. But to my surprise and horror I stood facing Professor Davina Cole.

She was dressed in a red silk dress that matched her flame hair. She smiled enigmatically. She leaned in and whispered, "I know you have it."

I felt my eyes widen. I swallowed hard.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play coy, you little minx."

"I really don't know what you mean, Professor."

Over her shoulder Kublai Khan cut through the throng of bodies. I caught his eye and he made a bee line toward me.

"There you are," he exclaimed. "When I heard you had been invited I told myself I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

I stuck out my hand and he ceremoniously kissed it. Only then did he acknowledge Davina who was by now breathing heavily through her flaring nostrils.

Her gaze never left me as her eyes narrowed. "We shall speak later. Perhaps then I shall be able to prod your memory."

She slithered away and was lost in the party.

I caught Khan's knowing smile.

"Would you like to know a secret?"

I shrugged. "Who’s secret?"

He took my arm and led me through the party, through a set of French doors to a secluded balcony overlooking the lake.

The light of a full moon illuminated the vast lake. From shore to shore it must have been at least two miles. On the distant shore stood a mansion house with lights blazing.

We strolled along the balcony until he stopped outside another set of French Doors. We were alone.

"Robyn, it is one thing to outsmart the Red Queen in the game of secrets. Another entirely to realize she owns the game."

I held his gaze like a deer frozen in the headlights.

"I don't follow your meaning. Who’s the Red Queen?"

“Davina, of course.”

“Why do you call her the Red Queen?”

He smiled a pitying smile. “Pray, you never find out. You scored big. Now she's vulnerable. But not for long."

I wasn't convinced he knew for certain I had stolen Davina's secrets about Everhardt.

"Robyn, if you want my advice, you'll start making alliances now. Before the Red Queen comes for you."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You are a breath of fresh air to a stagnant game. For too long a detente has existed. Your presence in the game has electrified my world."

"Why do you call everything a game?"

"Isn't that what this is? Think about it. We are all chess pieces on an invisible board. Each of us keeps a secret about one of the other players. None may make the decisive play for victory for fear of what another player holds over their head. Strategically, we all know the end game is coming."

"Do we?"

He stifled a laugh. "Robyn, you remind me of the girl who vanished last summer."

"Madison Loxley."

"Yes. It took me a while to figure out your motivation. But now it's obvious."

My stomach spasmed. "Is it?"

"Your disregard for your own safety betrayed your true identity. Your kind of conviction comes at a price only another Loxley daughter would gladly pay."

Shit.
"Price?"

"Revenge, Robyn Loxley. Revenge."

I glanced around, but no one seemed to be within ear shot.

"What proof do you have?"

"In this game, we don't wait for proof before we act."

"Is this a threat?"

"Friendly advice. Act quickly before the other players realize you are their one true enemy. For when they do realize it, they will have no choice but to strike without mercy."

"Why are telling me this?"

He shrugged. "Say I enjoy the chase. It gets my blood up."

"This end game you speak of. When it happens, whose side will you be on?"

"The side of the victorious. Now, if you're the girl I think you are, go. I'll distract Everhardt while you do what must be done."

"What exactly is that?"

"We are standing outside Dean Everhardt's private study."

I glanced at the French doors.

"Where exactly?"

He smiled. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Robyn, don't you agree?"

With that, he kissed my hand and left.

He seemed sincere, but could I trust him? I watched him re-join the party. He began conversing with Dean Everhardt.

I turned the door handle and slowly opened the French doors to Everhardt's study. I glanced over my shoulder. No one was in sight, I quickly entered the room.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

I kept to the shadows of Dean Everhardt's private study. It was an L-shaped room lined with portraits of medieval knights.

I turned to the portraits on the wall. I peeked behind each but found no wall safe or indeed anything as fortunate as a thumb drive attached to the back of any of the paintings.

By the dim light I could just about make out the inscription on the gold plaques beneath each painting. I stopped at the central one.

It read: Sir Neville Everhardt.

An ancestor of the Dean's?

I searched the rest of the room. There was an antique mahogany desk. Locked drawers and plenty of books on shelves.

All seemed too mundane to be good hiding places for something as important as the secrets that Khan implied Everhardt to be keeping.

I turned back to the paintings.
What had I learned from the others? Hide in plain sight.

"Well you can’t hide something in a painting, Robyn. Think again."

Each of the paintings was set in a large frame. Almost works of art in their own right.

I ran my fingers along the bumpy surface of the ornate and lavishly decorative frames of lilies and grotesque gargoyle heads.

Eventually, I came to the portrait of Sir Neville Everhardt.

My fingers rested on the head of the ugliest creature on the frame. One eye had popped out of its head and dangled on a stalk. It seemed to watch me walk around the room.

I was running out of time before someone would miss me. I paced up and down.
Fight the panic
.

Wait. What had Khan said earlier? Something about beauty is in the eye of the beholder?

I touched the bulbous all-seeing eye of the ugliest creature. Its jaw popped open and revealed a tiny metallic thumb drive. I took it out and noted it was etched with the symbol of the Knights of Kimberley.

I tapped the eye again and the jaw closed up.

My cell phone rang. It was Harry. I quickly sent the call to voicemail and muted the ringer.

It was then I heard someone trying the door handle.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

I fell to my knees and crawled into the darkness of the alcove around the corner from the desk. I crouched below a window that looked out to the lake.

From there I saw a figure stride purposefully into the room and pause at the desk. It was a man, I could tell from his cologne. He stood in the moonlight and sniffed.

I watched his shadow move closer to my position. In any second he would discover me cowering in the corner.

I held my breath.

The sound of a ringing phone cut through the silence.

I heard Everhardt's voice say, "Yes?"

He listened to the caller then in a raised voice said, "Information? What information?"

He paused to listen for a moment.

"What's so important that we have to meet in person?"

Another pause.

"Oh I see. Deputy Sheriff, I am interested in hearing more, but I can't see you right now..."

Another short pause.

"Very well. Ten minutes. Out by the lake. South side. The old jetty? Yes."

Everhardt ended the call and marched to the door. He opened it and slammed it shut. Locking it from the outside.

My mind reeled from the conversation. Had Harry sold me out to Everhardt? If so, there was nothing I could do from inside the locked study.

I tried the window. It was unlocked. I opened it and crawled out. It was a short drop to the ground floor.

Keeping to the shadows, I ran to Rust Bucket. A large Bentley tore along the driveway. I quickly curled up into a ball as it rumbled by and vanished into the night.

Two minutes later I was driving down the winding road.

Mai's apartment was empty. I kicked off my heels and opened up my laptop. I inserted the thumb drive and waited for Dean's well kept secrets to reveal themselves.

CHAPTER THIRTY

In the video, the trunk of a blue and white Kimberley campus police car popped open. The camera seemed concealed by the film maker. The person leaned into the trunk and reached out for a dozen plastic bags of white powder.

A hand with a knife slit one bag and put the blade with a sliver of fine white powder up to their face.

A muffled voice said, "You're set up to supply the entire campus?"

Another muffled voice said, "No one will suspect an officer sworn to protect and serve. Deal?"

"Deal."

My stomach back flipped. The video went dark.

I found a scanned document of a page of Madison's journal.

It simply read:

This is H.G's secret. I feel the betrayal like a knife to my heart.

H.G. had to be Harry. Who else with those initials could move around campus selling drugs without being suspected by anyone?

I threw up in my mouth and swallowed hard as tears flooded down my cheeks. I'd fallen for Harry just like Madison. And just like Madison, he was betraying me.

My cell phone rang. It was Harry.

"Robyn, where are you?"

"Home."

"You're safe. Thank God. You didn't return my call. I was worried."

"I'm fine." My voice felt dead.

"Did you find any of Madison's journal?"

I hesitated. “No.”

"Are you OK? You sound strange."

His perfect sensitivity and caring facade made me throw up in my mouth again.