“Hi, Lizzy. I’m so glad I caught you here.”
“Almost missed me! I let the children out early today because I was hungry. Do you want to get lunch?”
“I can’t. Can we go back into the classroom where we have some privacy?”
“Sure.” Weird. Lizzy led the way to the class, opened the door. Yes, her math-challenged kids had fled quickly, and the room was empty.
Nicole relaxed and sat down on one of the desks. “Thanks,” she said. “You’re probably thinking, What does Nicole want? I haven’t talked to her in a year.”
“I know what you want.”
Nicole stared at her. “You do?”
“Yeah. We haven’t talked in over a year, and now I’m helping Lucas solve Candace Swain’s murder and you’re coming to me because we know each other.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”
Nicole was math-smart, but there wasn’t a lot of common sense there, Lizzy realized.
“So? What’s up? You’re not going to convince me to work on Lucas to dump the podcast.”
“No, why would I?”
“Because…your sorority is all hush-hush, shut it down.”
“No. I mean, yes—officially—but there’s a group of us who really like what he’s doing, and we want to help, but we can’t.”
“Define can’t.”
“I don’t want to get kicked out of the sorority.”
“Can they do that?”
“Yeah. They can, if Vicky has enough votes.”
“She’s your best friend.”
“And I really thought I could convince her to at least let those of us who want to call in do so. That girl? Who said she saw Candace on Sunday night, in her car? That caused huge problems. Vicky and the council figured out who she was, brought her in to talk. Said if she knew anything about Candace to go to the police and not talk to anyone else or she would be out of here, period. She’ll be on probation through graduation, and she could lose her pin and all alumnae perks if she breaks the agreement. She’s heartbroken.”
“So you’re taking a risk talking to me?”
“I don’t want to lose this sisterhood. I mean, you’re not in a sorority. I don’t think you understand how much having this group of women helps. Not just now, in college, always having people you can go out with and talk to, but in the future, the connections and job opportunities that can come your way.”
Lizzy shrugged. “I’ve heard. Not my thing, but I’m not judging you because it’s yours. But I don’t understand why you’re coming to me.”
“I’ve been roommates with Vicky for four years. If I call in, she’ll know it’s me. And I’ve been pushing her to cooperate.”
“Okay, explain me this,” Lizzy said. “Why wouldn’t she cooperate?”
“Because Lucas is a student, not the police. Vicky is very law-and-order, which is great, but I think she has too much faith in them. It’s been three years, and they haven’t figured out what happened to Candace. And they don’t care. I mean, I’m sure they care, but it’s not the same. Vicky is positive that the homeless guy killed her. I mean, she believes it like she believes the sky is blue.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I mean, I suppose anything’s possible, but Candace was acting really, really weird before she disappeared.”
“How so?”
“Mostly, she kind of removed herself from the sorority her last semester. I mean, she lived there and everything, but she didn’t do anything with us, didn’t come to movie nights, missed several council meetings. Vicky was on the council as the first-year representative, and she complained about Candace all the time. Candace was Vicky’s mentor, and she felt she was getting the short end because Candace kept canceling on her and not telling her why. But at the same time, Vicky worshipped her. Candace was smart and beautiful and everyone liked her. Vicky wanted to be just like her.”
“So if you don’t think that Joseph Abernathy killed Candace, what do you think happened to her?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I think this podcast is a good idea.” She leaned forward and whispered, “What if it was someone in the sorority? We were talking last night, the group of us who are fascinated by this case, and were wondering if maybe Taylor James killed her, and that’s why she overdosed. They were arguing a lot, not just at the party.”
“About what?”